#nobody told me how hard posing is man...

[crowseers]

always two ugly bitches telling each other "exactly."

[countrymusiclover]

3 - Hunting Party

Part 4

Star Crossed Enemies

Three knocks were heard on the outside of my apartment door that was shut. Getting up from my bed I crossed the room barely opening the door seeing my father Jake standing in the hallway. “Dad! Hurry, get inside. Did anyone see you? Mom?”

“Nobody saw me, sweetheart. Your mother is still at work. But I do hope you have thought about my offer to let Marcus Kane pose as your father.” He stepped inside, wrapping me in a hug and I pressed my face against the fabric of his shirt.

Lifting my head up slightly I had to ask knowing the kind of man he called his friend. “You mean the man that enforces harsher than the current Chancellor does. I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Please just consider it, Cassie. I want someone else looking out for you when I can’t.” My father declares with some tears welling up in his eyes.

Lowering my gaze to the floor I wouldn’t realize what his words meant until after he was gone. Sighing heavily I nodded agreeing with his plan. “Okay, dad. I’ll talk with Kane but change my last name to Rhodes.”

Suddenly the door opened and closed quickly showing my mother Abby standing in front of it as she shut it by pressing her back against it. “Mom!”

“Abby! How did you know I was here?” Dad questioned her under his breath.

She stomped up pushing the two of us apart from one another glaring sparingly at each one of us individually. “The whole reason that I told you to get your own place at sixteen was to make sure that the three of us weren’t seen together too much to draw suspicion. And you can’t even follow that simple order.”

“Abby, don’t be hard on her. I came to see her. She didn’t know I was coming today so be angry at me.” My father attempted to calm down his wife but it was no use.

She snapped back at her husband. “She clearly doesn’t understand how serious this is for us. For me, you and Clarke.”

Pure hurt came over me at her words not hearing even utter my name once. I shoved her away from me where she stumbled into my father’s chest completely taken back by my actions. “So that’s how it is huh, mom. You’ve just cut me out of the family completely!”

“Sweetheart, you know I meant you to-“ She started to say but I slapped her hand away that tried to touch me.

“No you knew what you said the minute the words came out of your lying mouth!” Pushing past them I fling the door opened pointing with my index finger for them to leave. “You know just leave me alone. Just get out of my face right now!”

“Cassiopeia.” She spoke simply.

“Get out!” I screamed through heavy tears falling down my face. My mother scrambled out quickly but my father lingered sending me a silent apologetic look before leaving, allowing me the opportunity to shut the door and just sobbed on the cold floor.

“Wake up, grounder girl.” I felt someone kicking me with their boot in the middle of my back waking me from the sleep I had managed to accomplish on the harsh cold floor of their dropship.

Rolling over onto my back I groaned, spreading my hands over my face. “Uhhh…what do you want?”

“Get up. I’m taking you hunting with me.” Bellamy declared resting one hand on his hip that had a metal ax attached to his belt loops.

Peeking through my fingers I glared up at the older man standing over me. “Hunting hmm. Are you needing pointers on how to kill animals since you lived in space all your life.” I teased him by turning over to lay on my side and attempt to fall back to sleep.

The sky boy stepped around my legs and lowered himself down in a squatting position giving him the ability to grab my chin forcing me to look him in the eye. “It wasn’t a question. You’re my prisoner, not a guest.”

“Fine. But I get to have my weapons pack back. I refuse to leave this camp without having my own form of protection.”

Bellamy didn’t say anything for a minute before giving me a simple head nod. “If you try to kill me I will fight you.”

“You kill me.” I laughed at how cocky and confident he seemed. “That’s adorable.”

He stared down at me for a few minutes before he nudged me with the tip of his boot a second time, walking over to the ladder and climbing down. Sitting upright I ran my fingers through my hair undoing the one braid that I had in my hair allowing it all to be loose. Climbing down the ladder I didn’t fall even with having my hands handcuffed. “So if you want me to go hunting with you you’re gonna have to take these off first.” Holding up my handcuffed wrists I stood on the edge of the dropship ramp.

All around me everyone was working on some portion of their camp. They had constructed a wall around the whole dropship and a meat house. Plus many tents so they didn’t all have to sleep in the metal box. The only thing I could see they were missing was proper weapons.

Bellamy takes one long stride forward snagging my right wrist in his grasp cutting the ties with a small knife he had on his belt. “When we get back here these are going back on.”

“Do you really assume I’m so dangerous? I could be the weakest fighter you’ve ever seen.”

He raised his brows knowing I was being very sarcastic. “Nice try, Cassio. You took out three of my guys with a dart gun and held a knife to my throat.”

“So you did learn something from that day. Good I was beginning to worry I didn't scare you well enough.” I glared up at him, shifting my gaze to his deep chocolate eyes focused on me. We remained standing for about ten minutes until someone came over to us.

“Bellamy! Are we going to go kill something or not?” A guy with dark brown hair carrying a metal knife walked up. “What is she doing outside the dropship?”

Bellamy quickly separated himself from me. He handed me my weapon pack before turning his attention to the guy. “We're taking her with us, Murphy.”

“Why don't we just kill the grounder girl. We already have one chained up in the dropship and how are we supposed to know that she won't try and kill us the second we step outside of camp.” Murphy questions his leader.

The older man nodded his head to his right hand man, snagging my wrist leading me outside the camp walls with Murphy and a few other guys following behind us. “We're not going to kill her. And don't worry about her. I'll keep an eye on her.”

Our group trekked through the woods in silence looking for any animals that we could kill for dinner tonight. I wasn’t that familiar with this area. Living in Polis meant that we had hunting parties go out and return with food. I typically only tagged along with them in that specific area. Walking up the side of the hill I paused bending down on my knees I saw a deer standing a few feet in front of me eating some grass. Turning my head slightly around I saw Bellamy walking past me with an ax raised in his right hand till I jumped up snagging his wrist before he could swing it. “Hang on. You can’t do that.”

“I know how to kill something, grounder girl.” Bellamy grunted trying to fight against my type grip that my fingernails had on his wrist.

Murphy pointed his index finger at me in frustration. “I told you we shouldn’t have brought her with us!”

“I can handle her, Murphy.” The older leader intensely stared down at me. “Let go of me. You’re gonna scare off our dinner.”

Digging my fingernails deeper into his wrists that I was holding I pressed my nose against his. He needed to understand that I was trying to help him, even if he didn’t understand it yet. I certainly could just let him miss the deer and simply laugh in his face afterwards. “Shut up and listen to me, Blake. The way you’re currently holding that ax wouldn’t kill the deer. So if you want to bring food back to camp you better start listening to me!”

“You’re lying.” He shakes his head still not believing me.

With my freehand I snatched the weapon from his hand, stomping quickly around him before he could grab me and stop me from what I was about to do. Raising the ax above my hand with both my hands wrapped, the handle as I took a deep breath releasing it only after I launched the weapon forward. The ax went flying into the lower stomach of the deer before it slowly fell down dead on the forest floor. Proudly spinning around on my boots I smirked with my hands clasped behind my back. “Next time you refuse my help keep in mind I won’t be helping you.”

“I’ll be damned.” Bellamy cursed under his breath before the sky began slowly turning a dark yellow meaning the acid fog was coming from the mountain.

“Bellamy.” I shouted back at him.

He finally noticed the sky breaking in a sprint forward grabbing the back of my jacket and the others broke off into another direction for shelter. “There are caves this way!”

[riotouseaterofflesh]

You can wave a white flag; you can be an old woman or a newborn baby or someone else who visibly poses no threat whatsoever; you can be an Israeli hostage calling for help—if they see you, they will try to kill you. The five-month massacre in Gaza is not collateral damage, or an unfortunate side effect of the war against Hamas. There is no war against Hamas. Just this. The only military objective is to kill piano teachers and poets.

What I find really unbearable, though, what sticks in my throat like a clammy marble of rage, is the combination of mass murder and smugness. Israeli soldiers keep filming themselves committing smug atrocities. There’s one video I can’t stop thinking about: not even close to the worst thing the IDF has done, but maybe the most galling. An Israeli soldier stands in the ruins of a classroom in Gaza. He pulls a framed certificate off the wall and smashes it. He takes the time to erase the lessons from the chalkboard. Big man! How brave, this soldier encrusted in body armour and grenades! How heroically you defend yourself against a room where young children learn to read! But that really is exactly what he thinks. He thinks he’s being brave. Standing up against the oppressors of the Jewish people. Refusing to walk meekly into the gas chambers. He even writes it on the now-erased board: עם ישראל לא לפחד; the people of Israel aren’t afraid. Elsewhere Israeli soldiers posed in Gaza’s parliament building, grinning like they’d just taken the Reichstag. What a victory! This murderous ratissage into a city that’s been under Israeli occupation their entire lives, and their parents’ entire lives too. Then they planted dynamite around the building and blew it up. The entire country is mad off this stuff, and I do mean mad: saucer-eyed, loony. Israel’s foreign ministry shrieks like a funeral drunk whenever any government dares to raise an objection to its killing spree. Spain is Hamas! Ireland is ISIS! The whole world is made of Hitler! They also think they’re being brave. A lonely voice for justice. Confronting a cruel world with its complicity. At the Kerem Shalom crossing, protesters draped in the Israeli flag dance and sing and block aid shipments from entering Gaza. More famine! More disease! More stillborn children! They think they’re being brave too. The arctic glint of righteousness in their eyes. Even the more liberal sectors of Israeli society are getting in on it. Someone who was in Tel Aviv recently told me that most liberal Israelis don’t really have the emotional bandwidth at the moment to care too much about Palestinian suffering. They know what’s happening just down the coast from Tel Aviv, but it doesn’t register. They’re still in shock after October 7th, still worried sick for the hostages, still mourning the dead. It’s too early to worry or mourn for anyone else. The person who told me this didn’t think this Zone of Interest-style sociopathy was a bad thing. He didn’t understand why I found it so hideous. In a way, it’s also brave. It takes courage to let yourself really feel what you’re feeling, to sit with your grief, to admit that you hurt. It takes courage to be so emotionally complex. Not like the barbarians on the other side of the fence.

This madness is not limited to Israel. Everyone remembers being bullied at school. Even celebs, film stars, supermodels, beautiful and charismatic people, all seem to have had a hard time of it when they were kids. Some people build the entire foundation of their adult life on having been bullied as a child. You were such a misfit, you were so interesting and different… But nobody seems to remember being the bully, and I promise you that at some point in your life, you were also the bully. I certainly was. I couldn’t comprehend the senseless sadism of the kids who’d gang up on me, back when I was seven years old with dyspraxia and a speech impediment. What had I ever done to them? How could anyone bear to be so cruel? But somehow, all that stuff went out the window as soon as I encountered anyone lower down the totem pole than I was. My cruelty wasn’t senseless. Other people had been cruel to me, which made me a victim: anything I did was, by definition, fighting back, being brave. After all I’d been through, didn’t I deserve to experience the joys of power? Just a little? As a treat?

[astoryofsuchwoe]

Reflections . . .

(ember pov writing WHO CHEERED!!! there's erm. lots of fucked up shit. tw for implied sa, dehumanization/dollification, trans man being feminized, brief mentions of a limb being torn off, murder by choking and blood but we're all alien stage fans/silly dividers by @/cafekitsune!)

(tagging @sotogalmo @tsukacchako <3)

I can't remember the day the segyein brought me to the store.

All I really have memories of is my old name. All I really have memories of is the way that my sisters and I were dressed the same, put up on display as dolls.

We were nothing but dolls to them. That was all they'd ever say. We were forced to pose, to smile, to act like nothing was wrong even when their slimy hands groped and played with us.

Because we were just dolls.

When they pulled too hard, played with me too hard, I had to sit there and take it. Even when they tore my leg straight off. Even when my blood stained my white dress. Even when the pain grew to be too much that I passed out.

Because I was just a doll.

I always wondered what it meant to not be a doll. What it meant, to be free.

I couldn't take it. I was more than a doll. My sisters were more than dolls. We had thoughts and feelings, just like those stupid segyein.

They never cared, though.

All they'd do was push a plastic leg into my nub until it stuck. All they'd do was push me to the back of the store, where all the defects were.

It led to the first time I watched them kill one of my sisters.

She had lashed out at a potential buyer, and the store manager was furious. Choked her out until her body was pale and cold, until the life had left her eyes. We were all forced to stay still as they tossed her out like common trash.

It kept happening, over and over again. My defect sisters were slowly dying one by one, and I knew that even if I sat in silence, even if I did nothing...

I'd be next.

My escape was hard. The leg they had given me was not one that I could move well, and every single step hurt.

But, I still made it. When they had closed the store and left the door unlocked, I never moved as fast as I did that day.

I remembered collapsing out in the street when I finally did escape, not even that far from the store. I remembered being terrified that I would be taken back, that I'd be found by those horrible segyein again.

When I woke up, I was in a place I had never seen before. I was surrounded by humans, people who weren't dressed in white like my sisters and I were. I almost cried when I realized it, that the rumored resistance group some of my sisters heard about was real.

The doctor asked me my name. I was hesitant to give my old one. I told them the first word off the top of my head.

Ember.

It's stuck all this time, and I'm glad for it. Nobody questioned my strange choice. They accepted me the way I was.

As for my savior...I didn't meet Vic until I was cleared to leave the medical wing. I had asked Sytria who saved me, and they pointed me his way, rambling about how "He's a bit cold for a human, but you'll like him!"

He was standoffish when we first met, shrugging off my desperate thanks with a wave of his hand.

"It was nothing," He had said, "Who would leave you out on the street like that?"

Everybody before would have. My perfect sisters, the segyein would have sacrificed me in a heartbeat. But he didn't need to know that.

I grew closer to everyone, after that day. It was scary, to be with people so warm. People who didn't worry about being toys to the segyein. People who were truly and indisputedly free.

I grew closer to Vic, too, as much as he hated it at the start. As I opened up more, becoming the person I'd always wanted to be, I felt more comfortable with him. He would never talk when I was rambling to him, but I don't think he minded. He never said anything about it, anyway.

I can't remember when he started reciprocating my efforts. I remember the first time he arrived in my room with an armful of food, not even saying a word as he dropped it onto my bed and sat down on it. It was a habit I had picked up, and seeing him pick it up too made my heart flutter.

Vic was...is, the light of my life. He's someone that you can't help but look up to. And I thank whatever forces or fate that led him to saving me that day.

What would my life be without him, I wonder? I probably would have been taken back to the shop if he never found me. I probably would have been forced to be a doll again, or killed.

Vic saved me. And I truly don't think he understands how much it means to me.

Ah...I guess I'm getting a bit wistful tonight. It marks the day I ran, after all.

I still think about white clothes splattered in red. I still think about slimy hands on my body.

But now, I think about warm smiles. A meal shared with friends and family.

And now, I truly know that this is what it means to be free.

[dumbjocksub]

"TIM!"

Tim was lying on his bed when he heard his big brother call him from the kitchen. He knew why his brother called him and a big smile formed.

He hurriedly went downstairs, and there he was, his bodybuilder big bro, wearing a tight white wifebeater that showed all his muscular features. As he was about to have dinner, a steak was sitting on the table in front of him.

"Come on, bro. I need my daily protein shot." The muscular man said as he banged the dining table with his hands.

It started as a joke a few weeks before. Tim told his jock brother that cum contains a high amount of protein and is good for muscle building. His brother immediately trusted him as Tim was a nerd and the smart one in the family.

Now every day before dinner, he would ask Tim for his daily dose of 'protein shot.' He would jerk his little brother's dick with his strong bodybuilder's hand and collect the cum in a shot glass before enjoying it like an appetizer. Being gay, Tim didn't complain. It's pretty much his dream come true.

Tim had another idea this time, though.

"Hey, bro. You know that sometimes when I cum I would miss the shot glass and spill it all over the floor and table?" Tim asked as he rubbed his big bro's bulging bicep. Being proud of his body, he didn't mind, of course.

"Yeah. Such a waste." The big bro said, licking his lips after.

"I know a way to make sure it won't happen again. "

"How?"

"Well, what about instead of using the shot glass, you put my dick in your mouth when I'm about to cum so I can shoot directly into your mouth? That way, nothing is spilled." Tim knew his big bro was an idiot who only cared about his physique. He would 100% agree to this.

"That's an amazing idea, bro! Fuck yeah! You are a genius!" He said as he flexed his biceps. "What about pre-cum? Does it have high protein too, bro? "

"I think so" This is definitely not true, but what the hell, Tim thought.

"You leak pre-cum a lot bro, so what if I jerk you off with my mouth instead? That way, We don't waste the pre-cum as well."

Tim was taken aback at what his big bro said. It was even better than he planned.

"O-of course! That is an excellent idea!"

Tim's big bro immediately kneeled in from of him and slid down Tim's shorts. Tim's rock-hard cock twitched as he felt his big bro's breath on his dick. Pre-cum was already flowing from his cock.

"Shit, bro, you're already leaking." Tim's big bro said as he licked the dripping pre-cum, from the shaft all the way to the cock head. Tim shuddered uncontrollably as he felt his bodybuilder brother's tongue on his cock.

Then, he slid Tim's cock in his mouth. A loud moan escaped as he felt the warmth and softness surrounding his cock.

"Ahhhh... You're doing so good, brother. It feels amazing!" It was actually the first time Tim got his cock sucked. Nobody really wanted a skinny nerd like him. But there he was, getting his dick sucked by non-other than his 250lbs straight bodybuilder brother. "Make me feel good, bro! The better you make me feel, the more cum I shoot!"

Hearing that made the bodybuilder go crazy. His tongue was twirling all over Tim's cock. He knew he was doing a good job when Tim's moan grew louder.

"Aaahhh... F-flex your biceps bro! S-show me the progress you've made!" Tim asked, and his bro happily obliged, flexing his massive bicep for him to see.

Seeing his brother doing a double bicep pose as he sucked the life out of him made Tim go nuts. He grabbed his big brother's hair like a cheap whore and pumped his cock deeper into his bro's mouth.

"Here you go, bro! Your protein shot!" Tim said as he pumped his cock faster. "FUCK!!! HERE... IT... COMES!!!!!!!"

Tim's entire body was trembling as he shot his nerd juice into the bodybuilder's mouth. It was the biggest orgasm he's ever had. Tim's cock was pulsing non-stop as he shot more and more of his warm thick protein juice.

After he was done, his big bro pulled away. He could feel a drop of his cum dripping from the side of his big bro's mouth, but he quickly brushed it with his thumb before sucking it up.

"Wow, bro! That was a lot of protein! This way definitely better!"

Tim said nothing and collapsed into the dining chair beside him.

He can't wait for tomorrow night already.

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] Throwback photo of Nadal celebrating. Source ( Rafa Nadal Insta) Tennis fans were in mourning on Thursday as Rafael Nadal, Spanish tennis legend, announced that he would retire after the Davis Cup finals in Malaga next month. In a video posted on social media, the winner of 22 Grand Slam titles was teary-eyed. “I am here to let you know that I am retiring from professional tennis,” said Nadal. “The reality is that it has been some difficult years, the last two especially.  I do not think I have been able to play without limitations.” It has been a very emotional last two years for Nadal. The harder he tried to make comebacks, the more difficult they became. For someone who defined what it meant to be in peak shape physically, age had caught up. At 38, he was trying everything possible in terms of strengthening and rehab to be ready, but it did not work. For a man who played an extremely physical game, the last two years were tough. He broke down in 2023 and took most of the year off, but the planned comeback in 2024 was worse. He wanted to do well at the Paris Olympics, but that also became a painful ordeal.  Left with no options, Nadal was pensive. When he requested the Spanish Tennis Federation to be included in the Davis Cup squad, it became clear that he was contemplating how to call time on his career. His ATP ranking was in freefall, and to restore some balance was tough. Like many more before him, Nadal did not rush toa decision on retirement, but the announcement on Thursday was well-timed. He knew that to play ATP events and lose to tyros would have been embarrassing. It was better to leave as a champion. For those fortunate to have watched Nadal, his magic on clay was peerless. To win 14 French Open titles was scarcely believable. Nobody will ever match it, and that is the legacy Nadal leaves behind. His game revolved around fantastic court coverage, muscle behind each shot and the killer instinct with which he destroyed opponents. Once hisfitness levels dropped, Nadal became increasingly desperate. If he thought rehab throughout 2023 would help him, then this year was no better. To return in 2025 would have been impossible.  When people remember a champion, they usually recall the golden moments. His magic was sublime, and as a left-hander, Nadal was able to create angles which few dared attempt. For him to tear apart the clay-court-specialist tag and win Wimbledon twice was also defining. In the recent context, Nadal winning the Australian Open and the Frenchin 2022 was testament to how hard he played. When he came once to Chennai for an ATP event over 15 years ago, he was a fan’s delight. He posed for photos, was never impatient, and he smiled. These traits made people in Chennai fall in love with him, just as they had with Patrick Rafter when he came to the city. Nadal knows Spanish tennis is in safe hands, with Carlos Alcaraz in top form this year. In all probability, his last match will be in tandem with Alcarazin the Davis Cup final. Tears? They are already flowing. Also read:  Nearly a decade ago, he told me that injuries were part and parcel of the athlete’s life. Now, as he walks into retirement, Boria Majumdar recalls a conversation with Rafael Nadal, where his modesty came to the fore.@BoriaMajumdar #rafaelnadal https://t.co/3CebpZTvS7 — RevSportz Global (@RevSportzGlobal) October 10, 2024 For more sports content: https://revsportz.in/ The post Rafael Nadal leaves fans in tears with retirement announcement appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] Throwback photo of Nadal celebrating. Source ( Rafa Nadal Insta) Tennis fans were in mourning on Thursday as Rafael Nadal, Spanish tennis legend, announced that he would retire after the Davis Cup finals in Malaga next month. In a video posted on social media, the winner of 22 Grand Slam titles was teary-eyed. “I am here to let you know that I am retiring from professional tennis,” said Nadal. “The reality is that it has been some difficult years, the last two especially.  I do not think I have been able to play without limitations.” It has been a very emotional last two years for Nadal. The harder he tried to make comebacks, the more difficult they became. For someone who defined what it meant to be in peak shape physically, age had caught up. At 38, he was trying everything possible in terms of strengthening and rehab to be ready, but it did not work. For a man who played an extremely physical game, the last two years were tough. He broke down in 2023 and took most of the year off, but the planned comeback in 2024 was worse. He wanted to do well at the Paris Olympics, but that also became a painful ordeal.  Left with no options, Nadal was pensive. When he requested the Spanish Tennis Federation to be included in the Davis Cup squad, it became clear that he was contemplating how to call time on his career. His ATP ranking was in freefall, and to restore some balance was tough. Like many more before him, Nadal did not rush toa decision on retirement, but the announcement on Thursday was well-timed. He knew that to play ATP events and lose to tyros would have been embarrassing. It was better to leave as a champion. For those fortunate to have watched Nadal, his magic on clay was peerless. To win 14 French Open titles was scarcely believable. Nobody will ever match it, and that is the legacy Nadal leaves behind. His game revolved around fantastic court coverage, muscle behind each shot and the killer instinct with which he destroyed opponents. Once hisfitness levels dropped, Nadal became increasingly desperate. If he thought rehab throughout 2023 would help him, then this year was no better. To return in 2025 would have been impossible.  When people remember a champion, they usually recall the golden moments. His magic was sublime, and as a left-hander, Nadal was able to create angles which few dared attempt. For him to tear apart the clay-court-specialist tag and win Wimbledon twice was also defining. In the recent context, Nadal winning the Australian Open and the Frenchin 2022 was testament to how hard he played. When he came once to Chennai for an ATP event over 15 years ago, he was a fan’s delight. He posed for photos, was never impatient, and he smiled. These traits made people in Chennai fall in love with him, just as they had with Patrick Rafter when he came to the city. Nadal knows Spanish tennis is in safe hands, with Carlos Alcaraz in top form this year. In all probability, his last match will be in tandem with Alcarazin the Davis Cup final. Tears? They are already flowing. Also read:  Nearly a decade ago, he told me that injuries were part and parcel of the athlete’s life. Now, as he walks into retirement, Boria Majumdar recalls a conversation with Rafael Nadal, where his modesty came to the fore.@BoriaMajumdar #rafaelnadal https://t.co/3CebpZTvS7 — RevSportz Global (@RevSportzGlobal) October 10, 2024 For more sports content: https://revsportz.in/ The post Rafael Nadal leaves fans in tears with retirement announcement appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[athare]

Who will I be?

A truth that was told with bad intent, beats all the lie you can invent. It is right it should be so; man is made for joy and woe, forever.

ㅤ

The first thing that greeted me when the damn wooden door was removed wasn't that bastard DeMarco or Dad's old bodyguard.

Dust, more dust, squeaking wood, and the dim light from the high hall sky that fell as if Jesus had come down and blessed the animal shack that was once his home. But no, I knew he was still here because his corpse—far high in a termite degraded cross—was missing a face and shrouded in shadow. Away from the ghostly pale sick blessing from the half-eaten roof.

"I know ya were here. Show ya self.”

"I lost track of 'em. Everything's safe."

From the corner, as if a piston had been lighted with the speed of a blind grandma going to the bathroom, a silhouette of a strapping man rose. Even from a distance, I could feel the remnants of what he was once proud of. Shaggy hair, the smell of standard issued platoon cigarettes, the cheap scent of John Davis whiskey, and the clomping of boots in tandem with a single metal rod. Ting-ting-ting – the sound that was trying to deceive itself.

"Young Master Donovan," he said with unnecessary reverence. I could see from his hard eyes that he was bargaining with the desire to kill me on the spot. That, and a Berreta M9 that he was showing off in a pretentious manner. A small trickery, and his nerves were frayed. He's a nobody; I've seen worse.

“Your brother? He's in safe hands. Master's loyalists based in Del Rio came to pick him up this morning.”

His face turned upwards.

“They only paid me fifty thousand! That kid is such a hassle, you know! I should have gotten more—”

A flash of lightning and ten foot stomps later, the soldier found the trigger guard in the center of his left head.

“Parrots 'ere prized because they won't fucking shut up, major. Ya were no longer part of the Army now.” I threatened slowly. Half a click, a sharp eye cut, and a whisper were enough to make a coyotte flinch and bleat in fear. “Could've killed ya tonight, ya know?”

“Nobody will recognize ya by that prosthetic alone. And what's one more fire to this undead mud pit?”

Valentine. There was nothing romantic about that name. Especially in this town, where if a guy wasn't a drug dealer, he's either a loan shark or practicing ‘certified’ abortions. I'm no religious, but pretty sure St. Valentine himself was cursing the yankees who pissed on his name in the dry scrub of this desert that was posing as a settlement.

I heard the chattering of his teeth. His back is so tense now, I almost think he's frickin himself under his dirty camo pants. I wonder how many brothel girls have touched those seamy folds.

"You wouldn't dare, shithead. I hear federal lobbyists loyal to your father have put you under the Witness Protection Program under a false identity."

Falsehood after falsehood wrapped in falsehood. Maybe lie was always my middle name from now on.

"...that's none of yer business."

“I sold my soul to the bootlicker in Washington to ensure Harris's escape. And it's absolutely none of yer business, Gordie.”

With a quick shove, he found his flabby belly elbowed and his iron legs digging holes in the wooden floor below. Stuck and helpless, I snatched the gun from his grasp — as easily as taking candy from a baby's hand.

“A little P.S for ya,” I whispered softly to the man who was kneeling in pain, like he was about to propose. “Never question us Donovan's physical abilities. Let alone our political wire.”

I cocked the gun firmly and tucked it into the next pocket. “If the name of Our Family rings in this ear of mine once more, let's just say yer whole hometown is a replica of Dante's inferno. I knew some Turkmen that would've been grateful to step foot on a free visa to the States just to takeover yer identity.”

His hand reached toward me. “Where are you going, son-of-a-b*tch? Gimme the rest of my money!” his eyes bulged—as if they were begging to be popped out.

“California, the wave there was carvin' my name. Tired of southern grilled cheese anyway.”

I continued after weighing on some mind that suddenly crossed my head, “Wanna learn some acting too. Just for the sake of it”

That's how it is. I stripped away the last rope that bound me to my father. And although I had to start over, at least little Harris was safe; maybe he was sunbathing in a villa off the coast of Mexico—with servants and money on his names. Who knows.

I'll see him in a few years from now anyway.

Oh, and that damn old soldier was no longer with us, unfortunately. Last time I checked, there were three bullets in the berreta’s rotating sleeve.

Now there's only one.

ㅤ

[ppravitas]

TAGGED BY: @tacticalvalor TAGGING: you.

MUSE PLAYLIST

► MAIN: aim for the head / creature feature

↳ can i pose a question? / how do you kill what is dead? / i just shoot from the hip / and i aim for the head / he used to be your friend / that was another life / with a single bullet / we're gonna blow his mind [...] nail up all the windows / they've come to settle the score / make sure no chamber is bare / they're right outside the door / this is a test of your strength / and your will to survive / if you give up now, they're gonna eat you alive

► SILLY: nobody likes me / the northern boys

↳ brother, look / wank myself with a single finger, captain hook / then i go smoke my pipe with a random man in a dark and weary nook / bought a transgender man two pints / can i get lucky and fist him tonight? / constrict my cock with a pink hair tie / not too tight, no, i don't wanna die

► DETERMINATION: back and forth / dr steel

↳ i'd never lie to you / y'know i'd die for you / yeah, i love you too / just do what you do / consume and gobble it up, c'mon show me some love / or i'll be blowing you up / i'm lying through my teeth / to get everything that i need / i'll be what you want me to be / that's why i'm dancing back and forth [...] free me / i'll drag a burning smile across this nation

► BATTLE: a soul can't be cut / kit walters

↳ my ears are ringing with a sound / feel the vibrations, my heart starts to pound / give in to darkness, bodies melt / how do we play the cards we've been dealt? / beauty, it's humanity's greatest sin / beauty hiding the beast that lies within / for all our righteous crimes we compensate / but as for me, it's far too late

► SAD: lullaby bye / dr steel

↳ with no one around this robot fell down / and the crank, it broke off of his head / with the jog to his hard drive, he felt all alive / the old robot he used to be, dead there was rage in his brain, there was pain in his frame / there was love, there was hunger, and strife / he felt lonely, rejected, at times disconnected / no answer to the meaning of life / so he sang

► RELAXED: sickness unto foolish death / akira yamaoka

↳ no lyrics for this one :3 but it's about sin and despair. yay!

► CONTEMPLATIVE: childhood (don't) a go-go / dr steel

↳ and i'm constructing this fantasy / imagination is saving me from the world i despise / and what about loneliness? / what about friends? / what about winning and getting revenge? / and what about all of the things that they've done? / it's time for some payback / it's time for some fun

► HAPPY: homewrecker / marina

↳ i'm only happy when i'm on the run / i break a million hearts just for fun / i don't belong to anyone / i guess you could say that my life's a mess / but i'm still looking pretty in this dress / i'm the image of deception

► HARD WORK MONTAGE: kill everyone / hollywood undead

↳ oh no, here comes the riot / does everything have to resort to violence? / if you think you can hide, go and try it / now let's let the fucking gun break the silence / close your eyelids / another shot and then here come the sirens / i thought i told you to keep fucking quiet / somebody's dying, so come say goodbye kids

► LOVE THEME: e.v.o.l / marina

↳ candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker / every kiss you give me makes me sicker / a day in the dark, a day in a cloud of gloom / i look at you, you look at me / milk and roses, squeaky clean / well you're the best i've ever seen / and i'm your dying beauty queen / it only takes two lonely people / to fuck love up and make it evil / it only takes a drop of evil / to fuck up two beautiful people

► BREAKUP / HEARTBREAK: power & control / marina

↳ but love will always be a game / we give and take a little more / eternal game of tug and war / power and control / i'm gonna make you fall / i'm gonna make you fall / we give and take a little more / 'cause all my life i've been controlled / you can't have peace without a war / without a war, without a war

► FAILURE / DEFEAT: cirice / ghost

↳ a candle casting a faint glow / you and i see eye to eye / can you hear the thunder? / how can you hear the thunder that's breaking? / now there is nothing between us / from now our merge is eternal / can't you see that you're lost? / can't you see that you're lost without me?

► FINAL BATTLE: world burn / taylor louderman

↳ i wanna watch the world burn / i got the gasoline / i wanna watch the world burn / and everyone get mean / cady, time to watch your back / cady, time to turn and cough / because you took me down / but you didn't finish me off

[talesofourworlds]

“Ah, Magilou! I’m glad… we’re finally in the same city…!” Ludger had to pause for a moment as he caught his breath. “S-Sorry…Give me a second… I ran for a good few minutes…” With their busy lives, their paths crossed once every scarlet moon. So when he saw that ever recognizable large hat, he’d shoved his way through crowd upon crowd to catch up to her. 

But there was no need to rush anymore. He’d caught up, now it was just a matter of saying his piece.

“Okay, I think I’m good now.” Ludger said after he steadied his breathing, “I wanted to thank you for bringing your marvelous energy across Desolation as you fight against the Abbey. As a Kresnik, I can agree that our world’s malevolence problem needs solving. But the way they’re going about it? I’d say nobody would enjoy it, but joy wouldn’t exist in the Abbey’s ideal world.” 

Such an objectivist solution wouldn’t do anyone any good. The ‘Lord of Calamity�� may be hated by most, but to this Kresnik? She and her colorful companions worked to fulfill a goal everyone ought to appreciate.

“When your menagerie has its way with the Abbey’s head honchos, would Magilou’s Menagerie consider doing a special celebration tour? I’ll pay for premium front row seat tickets every show!” He’d even pitch in extra to bring Julius and Elle, if they ever managed to get past the pesky ‘transfer vessel’ thing. Or maybe once things were settled, the chief wouldn’t see a need to keep his Malak stapled to him. 

Who’s to say? He’d hope for a bright future brought by Magilou’s Magnificent Menagerie which manufactures mirth.

That voice... oh, Magilou recognized it! That was the young man she'd accidentally bumped into once before. And he was a fan of the Menagerie, too. Hard to forget a face of a person like that, she told herself. When Ludger called out to her, Magilou twirled around to face him and let him speak.

"Take your time," Magilou said. "I've got all the time in the world." At least until Velvet deemed they needed to get going again. She wasn't sure how long that would be. Fortunately, Ludger collected himself and got to speaking. What he had to say was enough to take the usually playful expression off of her face, though, and replace it with surprise.

Well, well! Someone who appreciated what Velvet and they were doing for the word! A rare treat, to be sure, and Magilou was quickly back to smiling a bit as Ludger spoke.

"It's Velvet who should be getting most of the thanks," Magilou confessed. "But hey, her cause is worth fighting for. The Abbey and Shepherd don't want anything good for this world." Ludger had put it better than she could have, frankly. Then again, considering that her old master was a part of the Abbey too? It wasn't too surprising that their idea of reason and what was best for the world was messed up.

"You know what? For Magilou's Menagerie's biggest fan? I think we can arrange that," Magilou answered at length. She twirled again, flourishing with a dramatic pose and a smile as she did. Whether Velvet was able to take part or not... well. That depended on how things went. Magilou had her suspicions for what was going to happen. But why spoil it?

"I'll have to make sure we get lots of practice in before the big showdown with Shepherd Artorius," she said. "Wouldn't want to fumble in a celebration of freeing the world, you know?"

[shortnasties]

2590. Cold Case

This is called “Cold Case.” It’s a nice day to be a dream. 

It was midnight. There was a knock at the door. I opened the door. A man was there to stab me. 

      Please come in, I said. He entered. He was dressed for the occasion—wearing a black mask which hid everything but his eyes. Would you like some tea? I said. 

       He said there was no mouth-hole to the mask, so no. While I tittered away at the tea, he sat down and stuck the knife into the table like a morose hunter might do. He put his head in his hands and wept. 

       I have such doubts, he said. 

       There, there, I said. It happens.  

       How do you go on living under such conditions? he asked. 

       I try not to think too hard about them, I said.  

       The man went on to explain how he had murdered countless people, had seen the life drain out of their eyes, become the eyes of statues, figurines, etc., how he had heard the last sounds of a person, had even made a melody up in his head to all the last sounds, but he still felt, every time, an emptiness and anxiety. Why did it have to be like this? he said. 

        I thought of the news article I had read last week of the priest who set a crucifix on fire. He said he did it not because of a spoiling of faith, but because of a fortification of faith. Nobody seemed to understand him. 

       There, there, I told the man in my kitchen. 

       The knife, stuck in its pose in my kitchen table, stared at us.   

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#334

“You a cocksucker?...  Don’t look so surprised.  This rest stop is known for cruising queers.  At least it was at one time.  I’ve been driving for years, and spotting pole riding cum guzzlers is so easy.  So are you a cocksucker?...

“Good!  I have a few hours to kill before I have to head out.  I’ve got full balls that may take a couple of loads to fully drain.  You up for that?  Or are you one of those fags that lose interest after five minutes of play?

“Speak up boy!  You think you can last two or three hours?  Good.  Come with me to the driver’s side.  Even though this place ain’t what it used to be, especially on a Tuesday morning, I don’t want anyone pulling in to see you strip naked for me. 

“You seem to be saying ‘Yes Sir’ a lot.  Are you one of those fags that likes to submit to a real man?...  You like to be slapped around?...  Figured. 

“How old are you?  Twenty-two?  You look younger than that.  Let me see your ID….  Jesus fuck!  You just called me Sir not one minute ago.  Now you balk.  Look I had a run in with a fifteen-year-old a few years back at a truck stop, when I passed on him so that a bud could get his rocks off.  The kid’s father walked in on them in the bathroom and the cops were called.  I don’t need to deal with that shit.  I’m not going to take your word; I don’t trust fags that much.  So give me your ID.  Don’t want to, then fuck off. 

“Thought so.  Hand it to me.  Now strip!  Completely naked, keep your shoes on.  And keep your eyes lowered as you do.  I want to see what I get to play with.  Small frame with little musculature, that’s cool.  I like that.  Knee pads under your sweats?  I love it.  Whore.  You can keep them on too….  Tiny forgettable pecker.  Shaved smooth?  Very nice….

“Look up.  Got it.  Yeah, I took your pic.  I wanted a pic of your ID and your naked body in one pic.  I already got a readable up close one of your ID.  I told you I don’t trust fags.  That’s my insurance policy.  You ain’t going to steal from me.

“Show me your cunt….  What the fuck’s that look for?...  You don’t like the word ‘Cunt’?  Too fucking bad.  It’s the best word to describe that hole between your legs.  It certainly is not an asshole or a shithole.  Real men have shitholes.  It’s not a pussy, as pussies are on women or men that we care about.  Cunts are holes whose sole purpose is to be used for sexual pleasure then tossed aside.  I can’t think of better name for it. 

“Hell, that would describe you.  Ain’t that right Cunt?...  I said, ‘Ain’t that right, Cunt?’…  Cunt, now turn around, grab your ankles, and show me your cunt….  See that wasn’t too hard.  Looks like you regularly get fucked, but since there’s no lube back here, you haven’t been plowwed today.  Is that correct?... Good.  I’ll make sure to load you up before I send you on your way.

“Gather your clothes and go put them in your car, lock it up, and come back here.  You can keep your kneepads and your shoes on.  You ain’t coming up in my cab wearing clothes.  You might have a weapon.  If you want to leave your shit on the ground while I am plowing your cunt and your toilet mouth for hours in my cab, I’m fine with that.  But don’t look for a handout from me if your shit is gone when I kick you out.

“Thought so.  Now go.  Don’t cover up….

“…Fuck yeah boy, now lock it up.  Nobody else is here, so take your time walking back to me….  Stop right there in the middle of the lot.  Get on your knees with your head bowed down and your hands behind your back.  Spread your knees far apart.  Fuck yeah.  Now turn around and do the exact same pose.  Like that!  What’s that in your hand?  Oh, throw your keys to the side.  Now lean forward with your face on the asphalt and your cunt up in the air.  Keep that pose.  I’m coming over.

“Cunt you are a sight.  Buck naked in the middle of a parking lot in the middle of the day, with your cunt open to any man that walks by.  I bet if this place was filled with other drivers, you would be doing the exact same thing. 

“When was the last time you cleaned out your cunt?...  Few hours ago?  You ever have a trucker douche?  That’s where you get cleaned out with the content of a driver’s piss bottles.  I don’t like fag mud, and I want to make sure.

I have one of those sports nozzles on the bottle.  It makes filling you up easier.  I just hold it just in the cunt and squeeze.  Fuck yeah.  You are getting filled with my day-old golden nectar….  Clamp down.  Let me step back before you unleash. 

“Go!  Fuck yeah!  Push it out.  Damn.  You got some cunt muscles on you.  I don’t think I ever had a cunt squirt so far. 

“No cunt crud.  Good.  I have another bottle.  But first, I need to do this….  You weren’t expecting handcuffs, now were you?

“…Don’t care.  I also have a collar here….  Hold still.  You look more like a cunt whore now.  And I’m getting great pics of you.  Yeah, I’ve been taking pics of you all along.  My phone has sent them up to the cloud.  They are for my own use.  When I’m alone at a stop and no fag in sight, I’ll pull those pics up and see a cunt degrading himself for me.  Here comes the second bottle.

“Cunt, your sewer of a cunt is thirsty!  It is chugging it right down….  Clamp down.  I’m pulling it out, and this time I want to get pics from a different angle.  This time I want to get your face in it…. 

“I can see you are struggling to hold it in.  Good.  Just a few more seconds.  Need to make sure my truck is not in the pic.  Now look at me.  Great.  On the count of three, push it out as hard as you can.  One… Two… Three… Squirt Cunt, squirt!

“Keep going.  Fuck yeah.  Damn Cunt!  Anymore inside?...  You shot further than last time.  I’m going to help you get back on your knees….  You are a mess.  Cunts usually are.  Spin around so you can see the piss splatter you made.  No chunks, so you were cleaned out after all.... 

“Hot isn’t it?....  Well, my dick thinks so.  Look at the bulge in my pants.  Huge, hunh?  Let me take it out for you.  This is a prime piece of midwestern beef—eight inches long and seven inches around.  You cunts are always looking for numbers.  Look at it up close.  This is why you are here after all. 

“No, it’s not going in your toilet mouth yet.  First, it’s going to breed your cunt.  Get that face on the ground and that sewer cunt up in the air….  I don’t give a flying fuck what you find gross.  I want your face in that enema piss puddle, that’s why I turned you around.  Now face to the ground now!

“Aww, fuck do I have to do everything?...  That’s where I want your toilet face, in that piss puddle.  Now don’t move.  Cunt, I am in control here, not you.  You need to be made aware of that.  Apparently being naked, handcuffed, collared, and douched out isn’t enough.  Well, my dick will need to reinforce that fact, and I’m only using the residual piss leaking out of your cunt as lube. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t take long.  The first load is always the quickest.  Take a deep breath, cause this is going to hurt.  This is the only fuck that I will let you make noise, cause it’s inevitable.  After this, I will expect a quiet fuck….

“Feel the weight of my dick on your cunt?  You really have me leaking.  So it probably won’t hurt as much as I want.  Ready?...  Don’t care if you’re not….  Oh fuck!  Scream you mother fucker….  Cunt, your cunt is like silk.  Oh man it was made for my cock.

“You are going to get my ginger gunk to impregnate you in no time….  Oh man….  When I tell you to clamp down, do it.  I’m ready.  I’m so fucking ready….  Cunt get ready… 

“Now, clamp down on my cock.  Oh fuck yeah!  Ahh!  Ahh!  Fuck yeah!  Oh yeah! 

“Your cunt is one of the best cunts I have ever used.  Now that I’ve fucked you once, the next few times will take much, much longer.  Hold still, hold still.  You ain’t going anywhere.  Just relax and enjoy my deflating cock inside you.  Shhh.  Shhh.  Hold on I got to relax….

“…Ah there it is.  You are getting flooded with my piss, directly from the source.  This load will be inside you for a while.  I’m going to plug you when we get back to the truck.  So don’t leak on the walk back.  Oh does this feels good to my cock.  Nice and warm. 

“I’m about ready to pull out, so use those talented cunt muscles to clamp down.  Ok.  Ok.  Now!

“Let me get you back on your knees.  Cunt, you are a mess.  Your face has gravel and piss all over it.  Open your mouth and clean me off.  Hey, anything coming out of your sewer cunt needs to be cleaned off with your toilet mouth. 

“We can do this the easy way or….  Thought you would.  Let your tongue run all over it.  Cunt you are learning.  Ok.  Ok.  Let’s go back to the truck.

“It’s hard to walk hunh?  Do your best.  Remember don’t let any of my piss and leak…. 

“Now let me find that plug.  Stand there next to my front wheel facing away from me.  In fact, bend over a bit.  Oh, I have to take a pic of this.  It’s too beautiful not to.

“…Here we go.  Hold still.  This is an unusual plug.  There!  Let your cunt adapt to it.  I know if probably feels weird.  No, no.  Keep bent over.  I have to…  There!  It’s locked into place.  That’s a lockable plug.  Part of the mechanism is that it expands to more than double in width, so it can be pulled out or shit out, not without me unlocking it first.  Speaking of unlocking, let me get those cuffs off…. 

“Now you can stand and turn around.  Yeah, I had to strip off my pants, you made a mess on them.  No problem, I also got my rimseat out.  Time for me to put my rank ass on your tongue.  You are now on ass clean up duty.

“Look at my hand.  This is a remote control.  What’s it control?  That dog shock collar I put on you ten minutes ago….

“…Delivers one hell of a punch, hunh?  That was on the low setting.  It got you on the ground.  It also delivered a message.  You do what I say from now on, or you know the punishment. 

“Roll over on your back.  The rimseat needs to be installed over your face.  Like that.  You are a natural.  Stick your tongue out for one more pic.  I will shock you.  There you go.  Pics are done for now.  Now it’s time for my ass to be taken care of.

“Smells ripe.  Now taste it.  Get used to it as I plan on sitting for a long time.  We are out of view from anyone who should pull in, and I doubt anyone will.  Some men like to be licked all along the crack.  I expect 99% of your time to be devoted to you tongue fucking me.  You may from time to time lick my crack and my shithole, but get back to fucking.

“Let me tell you about your predicament.  I own you.  I own every part of you, your worthless pecker—which will be locked up soon, your sewer cunt, and your toilet mouth.  I own you.

“That collar is locked on and it will shock you should you stray more than 30 feet from the cab.  To give you an idea of what 30 feet is.  The flatbed is approximately 50 feet long.  You can’t even make it to the back of the trailer before being shocked.  Your car is over 100 feet away.  And your keys are sitting in the middle of the lot about 50 or 60 feet.  You ain’t leaving me.

“Keep tongue fucking me.  Don’t slow that down while you are processing what I am saying.  I have a couple of biker friends that will show up in a couple hours.  They will use you before collecting your car and taking off.  I will probably have you drink the contents of your cunt in front of them.  So you have that to look forward to.

“I have been taking pics of you not only for my own enjoyment, but I have just posted them to a slave auction site.  In a couple of weeks’ time, you will be inspected for sale.  If they accept you as a candidate, you will be delivered to them about two to four weeks later.  Until then, you will be locked in my cab. 

“Know this.  I have been collecting cunts like you for some time.  Every single one of them got sold.  It may not have been the first auction house who sold them, but they were sold.  Cunts have tried to escape, but it never worked, and they never did it again.  Later on tonight, I will play for you the videos of their punishment.  No amount of begging or pleading ever stopped me from doing what’s going to happen to you.  In fact, you start that shit, I can activate the setting on that dog collar, the one designed to shock a dog when he starts to bark.  I could set that, and you wouldn’t want to utter one word.

“Oh man.  I warned you not to slow down your tongue fuck.  Well, it is time that you understand that my shithole needs constant attention no matter what is going on in your head.  It’s best to pull back your tongue and close your toilet mouth.  I don’t want you biting off your tongue as I do this.”

[dameronology]

cigarette daydreams (javier pena)

summary: javier pena has been admiring you from a distance for a while - you're young, pretty, and sharp as a goddamn knife. it's just a shame you can't roll your own cigarettes.

warnings: like...this whole thing is just one big mention of smoking. don't smoke in 2022 kids. especially not inside. but in a fan fic set in colombia in the 1980s?? i'll allow it. also swearing and implied age gap.

i haven't written for javi for a while and this idea just hit me in the smoking area of a nightclub so naturally i left early to write it. i don't know what that says about me. enjoy.

- jazz xx

You’d just turned up at the office one day.

Javier couldn’t quite put his finger on when he first saw you. He’d got a glance at the back of your head in the break-room one time, and then from there on out, you’d sort of just been there. In the office, coffee in one hand and cigarette in the other, and out in the parking lot, grinding the gears of your 1974 Jeep just enough to make him cringe.

Everyone in the office took notice of you - it was hard not to, really. Not with the way your heels tapped on the lino floors of the DEA office, or the way you breezed past all your co-workers in a cloud of Coco Chanel and the faded smell of tobacco. It took a lot to turn up every morning ready to speak over men three times your age and tell them that they were wrong; even more so to insist that running after Pablo Escobar in your Louboutins was a completely doable task. There hadn’t been someone like you in the office before. Maybe that was why everyone stared.

Javier Peña was no different; wherever you went, there was a pair of brown eyes following you. To the filing cabinet, to the trash can, to the coffee pot. You moved with such grace and such pose that he could only wonder why you chose to spend ten hours a day at your desk, highlighting case files and passing on information to your uppers. It wasn’t like they’d ever let you out in the field. You’d asked your boss once and he’d laughed. Told you to sit back down and be pretty. You would have hit him over the head if it wasn’t considered gross misconduct.

Javier never managed to actually strike up a conversation with you. Very rarely was he left stumped by a woman; it was normally the opposite, in fact. It was just that coming face-to-face with you seemed like the most terrifying thing known to man. And considering his line of work, that was really saying something.

You seemed like a hard person to talk to - always had the vibe that you didn’t want to be bothered. Nobody could blame you, not in an office full of men who did nothing but stare at your ass whenever you walked past. It was self preservation, really.

He never felt like he could reach you – not until he found you perched out on the steps of the DEA office at 11PM. He’d pulled another late one, trying to pull together enough paperwork so that he could have a relaxing weekend. The bull-pen had completely empty inside, so he hadn’t expected to see anyone. Especially not you.

You were sat on the bottom step, heels kicked off and bag and jacket strewn to the ground. The air was still thick with the Colombian heat; not enough to make your stick to the back of your neck, but certainly enough for your shirt to. The roads were completely quiet now, with the only occasional taxis passing, and crickets quietly chirping in the distance. A cold breeze would come past every so often - that was the only sign that it was Winter, really.

“So, you can’t roll a cigarette?”

You glanced up at Javier, eyes wide with surprise. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Only long enough to see you drop half your tobacco to the ground.”

“Of course,” you snorted. “Steve Murphy, right?”

“Javier Peña,” he corrected you. “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Shit, sorry,” you bit your lip. “Be my guest, Peña.”

“Easy enough mistake to make,” Javier continued, dropping down beside you. “Because it makes sense for the white man to have a latino name-”

“- you two are always lumped together as Peña and Murphy,” you shot back. “I never stared at either of you long enough to work out which is which.”

Shame, he thought.

“Here,” he reached over and took the cigarette papers from your hand. “You’re really shit at this.”

“I can’t be good at everything,” you replied. “Try as I might.”

“Sounds tiring,” Javi said. “Why don’t you smoke straights like the rest of the guys here?”

“I normally do,” you explained. “I left them in the glovebox of my car and it’s in the shop, I only had my back-up tobacco in my desk drawer.”

“Back up tobacco?”

“A good agent is always prepared,” you winked at him. “Even if I can’t roll the damn shit.”

“You could have just asked one of the guys, couldn’t you?” he asked. “Between us, there’s probably about a hundred cigarettes rattling around in that house.”

“And willingly strike up a conversation where I’m called sweetheart, darling and honey ten times?” you challenged. “There’s a reason I stick to myself, Peña. The guys in that office don’t take me seriously.”

“They should,” Javier countered. “You were responsible for half of Uncle Sam’s takedowns last year. Florida, was it?”

“And New York,” you replied. “They transferred me out here for a promotion. It never struck me that the sexism out here could be worse than back there. There’s some real backwards thinking in this place.”

“I agree,” he said. “Don’t listen to them, though. Half of them are desk jockeys and the other half are corrupt. You keep your head up and people are bound to notice you eventually.”

“Eventually,” you groaned. “That’s always what I want to hear.”

Javi snorted, tossing aside your shittily rolled cigarette - he’d given in. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his own, handing you a straight. You didn’t care to look at the brand but if his taste in cigarettes was anything like his aftershave, they were probably flashy and expensive. But after hours of not being able to roll your own and craving nicotine, you just shoved the damn thing in your mouth and snatched the lighter from his hand. Some itches needed to be scratched and they couldn’t wait.

“Shit, that’s good,” you murmured. “It’s only been like…six hours. I really need to cut down.”

“Six hours?” Javi’s eyebrows shot up. “Mierda. You make my chain smoking look bad.”

“My acrylics go to shit way quicker if I chain smoke,” you stuck your hand, waggling your bright red nails at Javier.

“Seems like a lotta effort just for work, no?”

“I could say the same about your mustache,” you shot back. “Why’d you spend so much time on something that’s just gonna scratch the fuck outta the people you kiss?”

“Hey - don’t hate it til you try it.”

“Please,” you snorted. “I’ve known you ten minutes. At least buy me a drink before you invite me to kiss you-”

“ - I didn’t mean it like that,” Javi groaned. “But hey - is that an invite too?”

“To buy me a drink?” you smiled at him. Your eyes met his for a second, trailing up and down his figure until they settled back. “You’re not ugy. And you’re not my superior, either so…why the fuck not?”

“Maybe I can teach you how to roll properly too.”

“No need,” you dusted up your skirt and stood up. “I can just steal your cigarettes.”

Brown eyes followed after you, down the steps and towards the only car left in the parking lot.

“You can have my house if you want.”

[rcksmith]

Desire — Kaz Brekker

(Photo not mine)

Requests: “Hello there! I've been around this blog for a bit now and you are an amazing writer! I was wondering if you would be ok with doing something with 21 28 & 29 from the smut prompts and kaz brekker? If you are uncomfortable please just ignore this!”

“Kaz brekker Smut prompts 28 66?? Love you💖!!”

“I can request Kaz smut prompts 29?❤️”

Smut prompts:

21. “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.”

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

66. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of shot, mention of desire, desire, mention of smut, explicit smut, NSFW.

Word count: 3k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

I hope you like💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There was something about you. Something impossible to decipher, with a glow hovering around you like a electrical energy. Wrapping your whole body in a cloak of magnetism. There was something about the way you spoke, walked, laugh. Something about what it was like to be you, in your beauty and mysteries like a sphinx.

Something that made Kaz Brekker completely furious.

You couldn't be more distorted from the image, in Kaz's mind, than what was to be a peaceful woman. Calm, controled, with steel emotions and wit in eyes. Someone who, like him, knew how to dance the waltz of negotiation, manipulation, who could blend in with the shadows and know the best time to listen more than speak.

You were not like Inej, you were not like Jesper. Hell, you were like nobody Kaz has known in all of his 28 years.

Nothing reminiscent of calm and control would be used to describe what it meant to be you.

Your soul are stormy, loud, obstinate, too stubborn and too talkative. You needed to speak loudly, laugh, move, expose your opinions to the seven winds and to whoever listened the most. You needed to question, inquire, doubt and test the limits of any situation. A direct order for you would be an affront to your free and independent spirit. A command that would curtail your freedom or tame your strong genius was almost like an invitation for you to do exactly the opposite of what they had ordered you to do.

So, for a man of trained reasoning, subtly balanced world, and who was used to his every command being followed vehemently and promptly in blind obedience, such a personality like you was like introducing a disturbing factor capable of shaking all his judgments. Sand in a watch, or stone in a shoe, would be no more a nuisance than a strong nature like your.

The extraordinary stubbornness and mania to counter his orders - when, in your words, they were unreasonable - had made you different from all the women Brekker had ever met. Kaz liked challenges and responsibilities, a good puzzle, but you were on a level far beyond that.

You were a danger to his peace of mind. And you knew that. All his aversion to your indomitable spirit only served as fuel for your own mission in to piss him off. Few men were like Kaz Brekker, you knew that, with a strength of character too powerful to be ignored. He was not just comfortable in his position of authority as he was obviously unable to act in any other way than as a leader. His stoic figure and always so contained in a wall of indifference made you want to ruffle his hair to see if you could remove any emotion. And being a girl who hasn't always liked leaders, Kaz Brekker was a huge temptation. Few moments had been better than those that you managed to piss him off beyond what he could handle.

However, all the reasons why the two of you were so exasperating for each other, did not explain why the air crackled in ambiguity when your eyes met. The hemisphere was adorned in a thought-provoking, poignant veil, like a warm honey flowing down its throat, and there was something else in the way blood flowed like flames of fire through veins of you two.

Jesper said that the sexual tension between you was so tangible that it could be cut by one of Inej's knives, but you refused to think of Kaz that way. At least until that moment.

Not pure images of what the infamous Brekker could do to you between four walls swept you like the strong Arabian wind. Making you be surprisingly breathless. Kaz was not a man whose private life was exposed, nor was he involved with many women, but you have heard two or three of them when they were drunk saying that Kaz Brekker in the room could be incendiary.

Everyone knew that his touch reserve didn't limit him to anything, but that his job was at the top of the priority list and that sexual encounters were almost never on that list.

"It was not my fault!” Jesper defended himself one night, slightly drunk, sitting at the club's round table next to the other crows “I didn't know he was married to another man! That damn pretty face seduced me!”

"Did he seduce you?" You asked, skeptical and playful.

"I swear to God! And it had been a long time since I had sex with anyone, and I went… ”

“But you did sex last week." Inej laughed, chocked.

"Exactly!" Jesper said, as if he were obvious.

You laughed with your beer glass in your hand, taking another sip.

“Is a week a long time to not sleep with anyone?" Matthias retorted, trying not to laugh.

“Are you going to tell me that is not?” Jesper and Nina spoke at the same time.

“If a man has time for sex more than once a week, he clearly doesn't have much to do. And I'm sure I gave Jesper a lot of tasks that would keep him busy.” Kaz narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Jesper hid his guilt behind the rim of his beer glass, looking to the side.

"So you are saying that you are a very busy man?" You teased, trying not to laugh at the scathing look Kaz sent you.

"I disagree. The values ​​of hard work and discipline cannot match the hot body of a woman in bed.” Matthias said, exchanging a brief conspiratorial look with Nina, who winked at him.

"There are more important things." Said Kaz.

"Like what?" You rested your chin on the back of the hand whose elbow was on the table, the playful look of a rebellious student.

"Progress." Kaz held your gaze.

He wasn't going to take your bait. But you didn't give up easy.

"Tell me, if God gave you a deal: all the hunger in the world would be extinguished in exchange for you never being able to have sex again, what would you choose?" your eyes had a teasing feline glow.

At that moment, Kaz felt a shiver up the back of his neck, like a warm breath of autumn. Something crawled, like a snake, across his rib cage and down to his groin, pumping blood like fire through his veins.

He held your gaze, but the feline glow in your eyes promised to contain the most ardent sins. Suddenly, Kaz's mind was flooded by the wave of obscene images of you, on his bed; moaning, squirming, shouting his name and being very obedient with every order he gave you.

He would make you such a good girl...

"I don't believe in God." He replied succinctly, the predator's eyes still in your eyes audacious feline's.

A big, satisfied smile spread across your face, and you said: "As I thought. Bad luck for hungry people.”

Realizing that he had fallen right into your cunning trap, Kaz got rid of your diabolical magnetism and cursed.

“I didn't say…” he stopped, impatient “It doesn't matter. I have more important things to do than waste time here.”

But the smile you hid behind the glass was noticeable to Kaz.

After that night, the crackling, gasping flame that circled the two of you intensified to alarming levels. Kaz could feel you holding your breath when he was too close, and you could see him squeezing his cane harder when you sweetened your voice for him.

However, regardless of Kaz's wanted to fold you at a table and put an end to your brat girl pose, enjoying the groans he was sure you would let out, the two of you still fought like dog and cat.

Just as it was now.

“What do you mean, I'm not going?!” You looked at Kaz, amazed, when he told you that you would not participate in the robbery that week “I know that security system like the back of my hand!”

It was true, what you had of stubbornness, you had of technological intelligence. There was no computer that you would not hack, a program that you would not hack, and a system that you would not unlock. Your genius with technology made up for all your lack of obedience.

But Kaz ignored. “I've already told you. It's a more dangerous mission than you're used to and we don't have time for the plans you come up with right away.” He needled you.

“Are you referring to Switzerland?” You were never anything short of direct and inquiring. It was logical that you would question every orden. “But I already told you that when the alarm went off your plan didn't work anymore! I was more useful inside to deactivate the alarm than waiting outside.”

And stubborn. Holy God, how stubborn you were!

"And it cost you to get shot."

"But it was just a shot!"

Kaz looked at you, puzzled. “Just?! And wasn't it enough ?! You put the whole team at risk!”

“But if I hadn't deactivated the alarm, we would all be arrested! And only I knew how to do that!”

"My fucking God, isn't there a speck of common sense in you?!"

But you answered boldly: "Not when you impose clueless plans on me."

Mortified would be an understatement to describe how he was now. What an unbearable creature! Kaz felt the anger spread from his neck to his face, igniting his breath and squinting his eyes in annoyance.

Why was it so difficult for you to follow a simple goddamn rule?!

“Besides, your initial plan was flawed and there was no reason for me to be out when it was necessary inside and...” And you kept talking!

If you had noticed Kaz's completely enraged state in front of you, you would have been scared, shut up and ran. But, truth be told, Kaz suspected that even if you knew how to read the murderous humor in his eyes, you wouldn't have left that office. Much less be afraid. You could argue with the demon. And you would probably beat him out of tiredness.

However, regardless of the desire to shake you up, to see if that put any good sense in you, in that second, watching you gesture with your hands, defending your point of view as if it were the england queen's crown, something swept Kaz's body from the top of his head with dark hair to the tips of his illustrated boots.

The sound of the world was drowned out by the flow of blood itself in his veins. His heart hammered hard in his chest and, in that instant, a sharp sting in his groin and the pit of his stomach set him on fire.

His gaze went down to your mouth, which kept moving. And when it came up to your eyes, your stubborn and defiant gaze sent Kaz's rationality into space. He dropped the cane abruptly, which toppled to the floor with a hollow crack, and advanced towards you in firm and determined steps.

Gluing his gloved hands to your face, Kaz silenced all your protests with a strong kiss. Hot, fiery, domineering. The kind of kiss that held years of camouflaged desire, years of irritability, years of an unnerving desire to make you shut up with all the perverse forms that existed.

You weren't afraid of him. But you should. You should if you knew everything he wanted to do with you.

However, as if you have been burning in the same desire for years, you responded to that kiss with the same urgency. The same hunger. Kaz slipped his hands into your hair, closing his fingers there and deepening the kiss with ferocity. He felt beside himself, like a hungry wild animal that had been denied food for years and that only now had its teeth set on its prey. You moaned against his lips, bringing your hands to his lean, strong biceps, squeezing your fingers there.

You both needed air, but neither seemed to give a damn about that. Misted of desire that burned like a fire in their bodies, Kaz pushed the two of you backwards, slamming your back against the wall and swinging a frame beside. You gasped, and the gesture made it possible for Kaz to invade your mouth with his tongue, hunting every piece of hot meat. You two fought the same battle in that kiss: invade, dominate, conquer.

They both wanted to take the waltz, but Kaz would never let you conduct the show.

He pulled your wrists up, pinning them with one hand against the wall, leaving you immobile while sinking his mouth further into yours. Kaz felt you try to get rid of his tight grip, but he was stronger than you. And much more when he have a objective.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He murmured against your mouth, the tip of his tongue playing with your bottom lip. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Was impossible for you to control the loud moan that escaped. Your body trembling with desire, your legs wobbly, your wet core vibrating with his words. Kaz Brekker was a fallen angel. With a beauty and charm you've never been immune to.

How can you think you'd win the dominance game with him?

And, like the fallen angel he was, his smug and arrogant smile painted the corner of his lips when he saw what his lines did to you.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” Kaz mocked “If I knew it was only necessary to do this for you to shut up...” he brought his lips closer, his voice hitting yours “I would have fucked you like the naughty brat you have been a long time.”

If his caustic and maddening kisses hadn't been enough to break you in half, that statement would have done all the work.

In that second, you hoisted your white flag, biting your lip in a needy moan and closing your eyes for a second by the overwhelming vibration of your core. God, you needed more. Whatever he gave you. Anything he wanted to give you. You just needed more.

"Are you going to be good?" He played with the dough you were in his hands, his devilish mouth going down your neck, leaving a trail of fire and debris wherever he went.

You agreed, desperately. “Yes, Sir."

That title seemed to do things with Kaz. Because in the next second, his mouth was back on your. More urgent, more needy, more dominating. You shifted your hips for more friction with his, and Kaz rewarded your obedience by pulling one of your thighs forward, making your skirt go up, aligning your thigh on his hips and giving access for his member to fit perfectly against your pulsating core.

You moaned louder this time. Fingers clenching, heart pumping frantically. Kaz pulled his lips away from you for a second, taking his hand off your thigh and bringing it to your mouth.

“Pull.” He ordered, referring to the glove.

You murmured a low, excited moan, bringing your mouth to the glove and clenching your teeth on the cloth at the top of his middle finger. Satisfied, Kaz pulled his hand back, watching the alabaster skin peel away from the leather fabric. As soon as he was free, he removed the glove from your mouth, replacing it with his own and stealing all your breath in that fiery kiss.

His free hand wandered over your thigh, touching you for the first time with a touch that promised to show you all the most delicious and secret sins in the world. His tongue wrapped around your again, and the moan you let out was even greater when his long fingers brushed against your wet, throbbing core.

"S-sir!" You sobbed, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

"Look at you." His fire voice beat against your lips, the tightness against your wrists getting stronger, more possessive "I’ ve only started using my fingers and you ’re already shaking"

Your body cried out in unbridled desire, sobs mingling with loud moans and heavy sighs as Kaz tormented you with his fingers. He touched you, slid, opened and sank, increasing the volume of your pleas.

“P-please" You begged, the body in need, the urge too urgent.

Kaz looked you in the eye, a dark, malicious gleam burning in his Egyptian blue irises. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" He teased you.

But you no longer cared about his teasing. With your lips swollen and red, your heart racing and the core pulsing in despair on his experienced fingers, you were already surrendered.

"Please. I n-need." You mumbled submissively, rummaging your hips in his hand.

"I bet if I wanted to fuck you against my desk, here and now, you would be very happy to do it, wouldn't you?"

He was foisting all of his dominance on you, bending you to your knees for him. And you knew that. You knew he was taking years of anger out on you. But you couldn't care less. You wanted him. Ardently. Desperately. And if it was a good girl Kaz wanted, damn it, you would be a good girl for him.

You readily agreed, your eyes shining in supplication.

“Good.” Kaz pulled you brutally off the wall, turning you over to the table and pushing your chest against the icy wood, pulling your hips at him. “Because that's exactly what is going to happen.”

Suddenly, desire and hunger roared like a wild beast. Kaz watched you, bent over his desk, obedient, surrendered, offering every inch of your body to him.

His breath was burning in his throat and it was no longer possible to order his thoughts, contain his euphoria. He would fuck you so hard that it would make that memory the only thought when you remembered him. When you dare to rebut his orders.

Kaz pulled you skirt up and your panties down, letting out a groan that sounded more like a growl as he saw your wet core. Pulsing and desperate for him. For anything he wanted to give you. It sparked a fervent desire that Brekker had never felt in his life, devastating any possibility of thinking about anything other than fucking you.

Playing with your fingers in your slick, wet folds, you whimpered again, the core pulsing whenever he teased you inside, pressing his fingertips there but never entering.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" His voice came over the top of your shoulder, hoarse, animalistic, full of profane desires.

"Please." You were quick to beg “I do what you want! But just...please, please… ”

You already felt your eyes watering from over-stimulation, your heart burning so hard it was beating, your core aching from emptiness.

You sealed the end of the game between you. Kaz had won. In a triumphant checkmate.

And you didn't have to beg again. Barely seeing when he unbuttoned his pants, you just reasoned his hard, hot, pulsating member by opening your from the inside. Claiming everything that was yours as his in a strong, desperate, hungry lunge.

"S-sir!" You screamed, your nails scraping the wood from the table, the core pulsing overwhelmingly around his rigid member.

In a more badly lunge, Kaz sank completely into you, moaning loudly as he hit rock bottom. The gloved hand slid over your shoulder, propelled you to him while the bare hand tightened on your waist, hitting you at a steady, raw, animalistic rhythm.

The sounds were pornographic, dirty and loud, echoing off the walls. The air was hot like molten lava, pungent and muffled, driving you two lost breath. Their bodies clashed as if the world was going to end tomorrow, in aggressive, rough thrusts. These were thrusts that made half of his things on the table fall to the floor, mixing in a mess that would serve as a reminder later about the sinful activities you two did.

You screamed when Kaz took on more force, his fingers squeezing you so hard that they would leave you with marks on your shoulder and waist the next day.

"Fucking hell!" Kaz snarled between his teeth, feeling your flesh throb around him, squeezing he with such desperation that he knew you were close.

You sobbed, tears streaming down the corners of your eyes as you pushed your ass towards him, trying to bring him as deep as possible, as deep inside you as possible. But every time his pelvis smashed into your ass, a loud moan and the feeling of being completely full drowned you.

You begged, pleaded, for something you didn't know. But Kaz seemed to know. Taking both hands to your hips, your pace became even more unperturbed, pushing you to the limit until you cum in a scream in his name, your lungs on fire. Kaz came close behind, sinking as deep as possible and pouring all the hot liquid into you. Almost like a brand.

The air was filled with sex, lust and desire, filled only by the sound of their ragged breaths that struggled to stabilize.

You were still panting when Kaz's voice came after you: "Whatever I want, don't I?"

A deal with the devil.

[hintsofhoney]

alright, *cracks fingers*. so. I’ve written up a transcript just to lay it all out for myself and get the most important parts. listen, everyone. for all intents and purposes and legal reasons, THIS WAS A DREAM. alright? I dreamt this. and he is literally the nicest human being ever so I don’t want to just like... put our whole convo out there like that, but I think he said some stuff that was important for people to hear so... here we go

my *dreamt* zoom call with thee crowley below the cut

The first five minutes (of my dream) was just a bunch of introduction stuff and talking about my favorite Supernatural seasons which eventually led to him telling me how they filmed the Season 8 finale (which they did over the span of three days, and in between takes the crew members were like dead silent, as to keep the moment going, which Mark thought was really cool. Said it was one of his favorite things they did on Supernatural.) Anyways, he eventually asked me if I had any questions, so, I’ll start there.

MARK: So, do you have any questions you want to ask me about aaaaaannyyyythingggg? 

ME: Um, I guess the number one thing I wanna know… um, so, I know you can’t speak for Dean and I don’t want to talk about Dean because you’re not Jensen, but, there’s like a lot of questions I guess or subtext or whatever concerning Dean’s sexuality and what not, but I want to know about demon Dean and Crowley’s relationship and if there was, I don’t know, anything like, any implied –

MARK: Well I think – I think you’re talking about… there’s a massive difference between sex and love. There’s a massive difference between, um, well, they can intertwine perfectly, that’s not the issue, but I mean you would believe with all the things that Crowley did for the Winchesters, that he was – that he very much loved Sam and Dean or loved who they are or what they are. To reduce it to, you know, a crush, or to something that – I mean, I don’t know, I think Crowley is very probably pansexual more than anything else; I don’t think anything phased him. I think, that’s why the whole stuff with Lucifer and licking the floor was kind of really stupidly boring for me because Crowley did weirder and crazier things on his own. I mean, it became this joke of trying to humiliate somebody who can’t be humiliated. There’s nothing you can humiliate Crowley with. So, that never sort of made sense, that was just a sort of writer’s glitch of thinking, “oooh, this would be funny to knock him down into subservience” and that’s what he does on a Wednesday, I mean it’s like the most un-inspiring thing. I think so much is projected onto the relationship between, certainly the four main characters, um, and, you know, look, getting comfortable with one’s sexuality and one’s identity is a massively complicated things, and if you want to live vicariously through what you believe people’s identity is and you can relate to that, great!  Who cares? I mean, can I be absolutely honest? Apart from – what I do care about, you know, don’t ever take this and piece me or misquote it, because it’s very, very specific – um, somebody stopping somebody being able to express their own identity or whatever is an issue for me. That will always be an issue for me. Um, we should all be treated equally, and we all have the rights to believe and follow those things that we wish to follow, but to project relationships onto characters is an odd thing to do. I mean, it’s wishful thinking in a lot of ways, I mean, actually it’s quite… it’s quite reasonable because in the past if you think about it, if you ask your parents or anyone else, the only way sexuality was used was to, uh, literally demonize somebody. It was only ever used to say somebody was bad because this who they’re in love with. You know, that’s, that’s the thing. And it’s a massive change in the world that we’re moving towards, I should say, uh – a lack of consequence for who one loves, apart from the obvious consequences of human nature. You know, political consequences for who one loves – I’ve just watched Pete Butteigieg being, you know, sitting in congress with his husband there with him; that’s the first time that’s ever happened in United States congress and I’m so proud of that. Not just because the man is gay and happily married – that’s not even the issue for me, it’s because he’s the best man for the job and one of the smartest people on the planet. You know, it’s like using sexual templates, as they were, or gender templates as they are, or orientation templates as they are, we always use to disclude people from things. They were always used to discriminate. You know, labeling somebody was a way of discrimination. And where as labels are very important, to ones self, and they’re very important politically and they’re very important socio-economically and they’re very important in all those aspects, I yearn for a time when nobody gives a damn. I really do. But I mean, we have to go through so much to get there. I mean, let’s be honest, you can’t, you know, right the wrongs of hundreds of years of oppression in 20 minutes by saying, “let’s all move forward”. It just doesn’t work that way, it never has. But there’s a responsibility there, that if you’re going to represent, that you represent all. That you don’t just represent you. So, one has to be careful with a television program or, or, you know, Misha or myself, or, not speaking for the boys, but just generally, um, you have to be careful that what you advocate is inclusive, not disinclusive. Not excluding people... and it’s so hard to frame these conversations, that they’re equitable, it’s so hard to do that. And so, you know, we spend years pointing out the inequity and the injustice and the unfairness of the whole situation, and… I don’t know if the trick is to rise above, or, uh, maybe it’s as simple as love and coming together as a human race and make it very difficult for people to discriminate and exclude based on gender, race, color, religion, any of the subsets of humanity that we’ve decided we have. So, I think personal responsibility is the most important thing, but if one is in a position of power on a TV show, you got to remember what you’re representing, that you have a, you know, you have to cover all or cover none. So, you know, but if you stick to a story and you have a story about a person or two people and their journey, that’s shining light on things. If you try to advocate for all, I think it becomes a little more complicated. Does that make sense?

so, i just feel like he said some important things there, but like I also don’t really understand what he’s getting at really, y’know? oh! also, he didn’t watch the finale lmao 

also! there’s this:

MARK: Because if you come down on one side or another, you’re admitting the sides, and that has its own political ramifications. If you push the ball up in the air and say, “you decide”, I don’t think that’s copping out. I think that’s, maybe not fulfilling everybody’s expectations, or not fulfilling everybody’s hopes, but at least you’re getting the question asked. You know, at least you’re getting the question asked. At least people are relating to it and going, “well, what if?”. Because it’s all “what if”, I mean, it’s a TV show, so it’s “what if”, you know? It’s not Misha being in love with Jensen, I mean as much as he loves Jensen, I don’t think that’s his thing – I mean you never know – but I’m saying yet again, I don’t exclude anything from anybody (I LITERALLY CAN’T BELIEVE HE SAID THIS LMAO). But to force my opinion or my identity belief upon a situation has a cost. It may be right, it may be absolutely right, and it may be necessary in many, many cases. But, in that circumstance, I think… there are a lot of people in the world that say that Jesus, for example, was anti-homosexual and that he was – and none of that is true, and none of that is provable in the New Testament, and I’m not talking about Leviticus and I’m not talking about early Bible and I’m not talking about the fact that more than 25,000 words have been changed in the King James edition and all of this stuff, but these things that people hold so sacred, the confusion that arises from that is being told that a man loving a man or a woman loving a woman or a man loving a man and a woman or whatever combination being there is either right or wrong because you’re being told by a pastor or the leaders of your church, is a very difficult thing to break down. I think what you have to do is at least put it out there so it’s visible, and so it becomes less and less deniable. And you know, people change over years, that’s the trouble with youth, is shit doesn’t move fast enough. “I need a decision now!”, and unfortunately, when you’re dealing with centuries of prejudice and centuries of un-enlightenment, I think that sometimes the best thing to do is reach as many people as possible and pose the question. And sometimes it’s essential to make a statement, absolutely, no question. It is essential to make a stand, in some circumstances. But to polarize a TV show, can be very disingenuous to those who need to go ask their own questions, who need to go say, “well, where does Jesus say this is wrong?” you know, if that’s your beliefs.

he also said, when we went off on a tangent about doom patrol:

MARK: There are issues that are being addressed here [on Doom Patrol] that are not being addressed on other shows, and yet again, we have the format, and I don’t know that Supernatural ever had the format because it was on the CW.

anywho, in conclusion, fuck the cw.

also, again, for all intents and purposes this was a dream I had :)))))))

[kanazawa-division]

Joey’s Thoughts on Okinawa Division

Ace Douglas

Joey raised an eyebrow before grinning, “Oooh! So this is the big man, huh? Kyler’s boss! Er, well, his boss’s son. I admit, I’m not one for politics and stuff like that, only political stuff I know is which world leader tweeted the worst hot take on Twitter and no offense but…” He looked around to make sure nobody was listening and leaned closed to the camera, “America’s last president had some truly horrendous takes, like, I didn’t even know you can say that type of stuff on the internet, I had to deep clean my browser history after looking at that.” He leaned back and cleared his throat, “But uh, anyways, Ace here! I haven’t actually met the guy, not officially anyways, Kyler’s told me a looot about him though the more he spoke I noticed he seemed to get more exasperated, kinda how Wataru gets when I tell him about a new video game I got, so those two are definitely best friends!” He snickered, “He seems like an alright guy but maybe he can kinda, I don’t know, tone down the blatant racism? Like I said, I don’t know or care much about politics but I bet he’ll make major progress if he didn’t have the constant disgusted look on his face, kinda looks like he’s one step away from shitting himself hahaha.”

Evelyn Rose

He beamed at the picture of the American model, “Evelyn Rose, the real life American Sweetheart! I still can’t believe she and Kyler are best friends, like, when you look at the two of them, you wouldn’t believe it! Evelyn’s like ‘uwu ehe’.” Joey did his best kawaii pose, a closed eyed head tilt smile with both his pointer fingers on his cheeks. “And Kyler’s like ‘grrr!’.” He quickly changed his position into a hunched over, arms crossed and the most grumpiest expression he could managed which honestly came off as more goofy than anything remotely intimidating. “But that just goes to show that whether romantic or platonic, opposites attract!” He beamed. “Anyways, after I begged got Kyler to introduce us, Evelyn is a real blast to be around, her Japanese is a bit simplistic, in fact she called Wataru a donkey when they first met! I swear, I thought I had to go to the ER with how much I was laughing, that is definitely one of my top 5 best memories.” He chuckled, “Of course, I offered to tutor her on Japanese and we sometimes have study sessions whenever we both have the time, I can definitely understand her struggle, Japanese is a hard language to learn and I’m half Japanese myself! But despite a few misspellings and odd pronunciations, Evelyn is actually making good progress! She can speak in almost full sentences now!”

Rashaad Young

Joey’s eyes gleamed as a large grin spread on his face, “Rashaad! My good man, the best bartender Japan has to offer, sorry other bartenders but nobody can beat this guy when making a drink, I swear, if it wasn’t so expensive and if I didn’t spend my salary on merchandise, I’d go to Eagle’s Nest everyday!” He giddily exclaimed. “It does suck whenever he pulls me off the stage before I can begin my amazing comedy routine! Like, c’mon! It’s not that bad! Everybody loves a bit of dark humor, I mean, shit, it’s everywhere! Might as well take the piss out of it while we still can.” He shrugged, “Oh well, maybe someday.”

Liberty Guild

“Alright! First review done and only 40 more to go! What a coincidence that it just so happened to be the team our lovely American friend is working for, well, I’ll say this team is a-okay! I mean, they’ve been here waaay longer than us and they have quite the popularity count, though I think that’s mainly due to Evelyn haha, Rashaad did say that he’ll keep both an eye and ear out should he come across anything to help our case, we all really appreciate it, the whole reason we joined is so we can help both the public and everyone in the competition so it’s nice to know that we already have more allies than enemies, at least I hope.”