#well the car is not that symbolic anymore

[pastorfutureletthembe]

Could be but I hope Lu Guang knows better than giving false hope to CXS after the earthquake arc :(

We don't know what's the extent of Lu Guang's knowledge on season 2's events to be fair. He doesn't seem to know the twins, for example? Or maybe he did and that was why he tried to keep the childhood photo secret until he couldn't anymore. But a lot of information about the twins eludes him.

He absolutely didn't know CXS would be in the car when Emma got kidnapped. And the whole Emma plotline is a bit messy too. It's like the story is never the same, switch from one way to another. I'm pretty sure it comes out as a murder then a suicide as the shows goes on but I'm not sure. I don't think it would be narrative errors, only CXS and LG messing with the timeline.

In season 2, CXS seems to change many key points by the end of the show, reacting to LG's absence. Obviously, CXS is the one supposed to be kidnapped by Li Tianchen so Lu Guang really went and decided "nope not gonna happen! I believe in you CXS to somehow make it work."

Soooo I really don't know if Emma was supposed to live or die but, allegedly, she's in this situation because of CXS. No way to know if she would have ended her life after losing her job in the original timeline. Or if she ever got fired in the first place. Or if she actually went through to become the kind of innocent girl who comes to the big city to fuck her boss in hope to secure her place in society. Maybe this would have been enough to make her jump. We just don't know.

Truth be told, Emma is one of the most interesting characters in the show. And it is so for more reasons than one.

She's the perfect entry point to the show, her longing for her family introduces us to CXS's personal struggles and loneliness, and all of this presents the boys' powers.

This and, as a character, she embodies what the show really is about, and her story is very common for chinese people from what I've heard. Season 1 was actually very popular because it was about primordial chinese values and struggles. Some episodes are about true events that profoundly marked people in this country. Put time travel aside, it's actually a story about two boys struggling to pay a debt. It's about living to your parents' expectations. It's about the gap between rich and poor; and in one end of it you're barely able to buy food on a daily basis. It's about choosing the right partner to start a business. It's about family. In the end, I think she had to die as an active symbolism that the natural balance is off. What happens after her death is Lu Guang and Li Tianchen cheating.

Sadly, her character is just what it's worth: a tool. For the writers as well as for the baddies in the show. But I would have loved to see more of her (maybe in an alternative reality when CXS and she became friends). I also believe she has a strong impact on CXS, just as much as the earthquake. Because everything about how her life changed from the beginning is because of CXS's actions.

Cheng Xiaoshi is introduced as a passive character. Not a passive personality, far from it, but Lu Guang tries to make him into someone who doesn't create ripples into the river of time (which is basically impossible). Cheng Xiaoshi dives and Lu Guang drives. That's the time travel dynamic we're given and Qiao Ling, as clueless as she can be regarding their business, knows that Lu Guang calls the shots. Lu Guang has an easy role, of course, because he doesn't have to deal with consequences as directly as CXS. To him, the events already happened and there is no changing them. To CXS, the events ARE happening, to HIM. No matter Lu Guang's rules, Cheng Xiaoshi is compromised and thus not only because he lives the memories: there is an emotional contamination between his host's body and Cheng Xiaoshi's soul. Lu Guang is trying to teach CXS this distinction. CXS dives as if it's only business, like he doesn't really care, but he can get deeply involved, real fast. When this happens, he's reckless. He's in danger and can be a possible danger.

People can be appalled by Lu Guang's decision of letting Cheng Xiaoshi go through the earthquake trauma but, in all honesty, it needed to happen. CXS needed to learn his actions have consequences but that he cannot go through an unchangeable node. And he shouldn't. Hypocrite? Well, yes, but it's a reasonable lesson to learn when you have CXS's powers. Not to spoil LCLA, but this arc has exactly the same purpose: proving CXS that he's not playing superhero here, he cannot be doing this for himself, this is real life with real people and he needs to understand the purpose of his dives in order to be able to protect himself.

1) Lu Guang has nothing to return to, he's only diving forwards by taking the back door. Cheng Xiaoshi? Once he changes the past, chances are he won't be able to return to the time he's sharing with Lu Guang and Qiao Ling. 2) Cheng Xiaoshi has no right to decide what needs to happen in the past only to make it easier for people in the present. That's not healing. He lives through his host but he shouldn't give in to what the host wants, should keep in mind what needs to be.

Ironically, Emma's case required Cheng Xiaoshi to be passive and not ease her mind by reaching out to her parents, while the earthquake arc teaches him that it's okay to communicate his host's feelings. In the second case, everyone is at a dead end. Would that imply that Emma wasn't? Does it mean Emma's story wasn't supposed to end? Sending a message to her parents in the middle of the night didn't change anything related to their mission but it did change her path. If Lu Guang wants for her to survive, it either means she is alive in the original timeline or her role shifts from host to Cheng Xiaoshi's downfall.

Again, it's only a supposition but she could be the first nail to CXS's coffin, actively or passively. 1) He would take accountability regarding the role he played in her death. It could send CXS on a very dangerous path, one with guilt, depression and... We know the possible outcome for this. 2) The fact he puts her on Liu Min's path and therefore puts himself on Li Tianchen's radar would definitely be the trigger for his own death. If we project more in the future, we can guess it makes him visible by other power users such as Liu Xiao or Vein. Lu Guang wouldn't want that.

I cannot shake the feeling that Cheng Xiaoshi saving Emma was a needed correction that Lu Guang supported. The reason why he was trying to hide the case from Cheng Xiaoshi and, again, lie to his face about the truth, could be that he didn't want Cheng Xiaoshi to be hurt. He probably knew that if he involved himself with this case, someone will notice him/them.

True, Lu Guang was surprised/panicked when Cheng Xiaoshi's rescue mission almost succeeded but I think he's even more disturbed by the fact someone with ability stepped in the game. Death is supposed to be an unchangeable node but what if this death specifically happened only because someone other than Cheng Xiaoshi played a part in it? That would change things.

In the end, it is a bit difficult to trust season 1 finale when you know they took a different direction than initially planned. This character killing Emma could not be Li Tianchen. Or maybe the one possessing Qiao Ling was supposed to be Vein. The words "this is your punishment for breaking the rules of the games. Now the game has been reset" are ominous as fuck when you know what is probably coming in Yingdu Chapter.

You know what's kinda messed up when you think about it? At the end of S1, Lu Guang let Cheng Xiaoshi try and save Emma. And you're kinda thinking "wtf? That doesn't sound like Lu Guang at all" but then you get to S2 and you realize Lu Guang most likely knew exactly what was going to happen (at least I think so? Time stuff is a bit weird, so idk what all is similar and different with the timelines), so he let Cheng Xiaoshi try and save Emma, knowing full well that Cheng Xiaoshi wouldn't be able to because he knew what was going to happen next.

[girl-revolution-utena]

Thinking about how parents usually say "don't get into a stranger's car" and how the implocation is that they are going to kidnap you, kill you or assault you (or everything). And Akio uses his car for abuse, either doing it there or driving the victim to the place where the abuse is going to happen. In some cases, even though he is a stranger, the victims know he exists and is an authority in the school. In others, he grooms them and gets them to trust him, so he makes sure that the warning no longer applies to him.

His power as an adult and how, with his car, he has more freedom than the kids. He can go wherever he wants. He uses the car as a private space where he doesn't need to respond for his actions. And if the kids want to go somewhere that is not inside Ohtori, they need him to take them. They have to get into his car to be able to grasp a little freedom.

This just makes me want to read more about youth liberation and how young people are a class in contradiction with adults.

[trainsinanime]

I wonder: Do Americans know about american school buses? Not their existence in general, but how they're seen overseas.

Over here, they're one of the symbols of America, on par with the Statue of Liberty, the flag, the Eagle, and well ahead of any chain restaurant you can name. People won't know any US states, but they will know these vehicles.

The thing is, here in Germany, we don't have dedicated school buses. The general idea is that kids go to school on their own. When that's not practical, they're expected to use (and given free tickets for) public transit. Public transit is designed around this requirement; there are many places where there is a bus, and anyone can get on it, but the route and timetable really only makes sense for school children. In case a dedicated school bus is really needed, that's generally subcontracted out, and the lines either use something like a Sprinter Van for smaller routes, or a normal city or interurban bus (often a used one that's a bit older). School trips are normal public transit, or a rented bus, typically a coach or regional bus.

It's not a perfect system, in the past couple of years there's been an epidemic of people bringing their kids to school in their cars instead of letting them walk, which is less than ideal. It is what it is. But building a dedicated network of public transit lines only for students, and building dedicated vehicles only for that, has never occurred to anyone here.

Of course we know about these buses, from movies and such, but they're as foreign here as cacti or pick-up trucks (actually we're seeing more and more of these here) or yellow cabs (all europeans will assume all cabs in the US are yellow until they actually visit).

You do see these buses here at times, because people still generally like the idea of the US, even if they have a lot of issues with a lot of details, and so folks bring them over, along with stretch limos and stuff (also not really a thing here). And of course, if someone goes to all that trouble, they don't do it to haul school kids, they rent it out for city tours or as a party bus or whatever.

So you see these yellow things as a symbol of faraway places, scenic vistas, some vague undefined idea of freedom that doesn't necessarily hold up to any contact with reality, and it's just a huge part of the whole US aesthetic.

And then you go to a student exchange with the US, and you finally get the chance: You yourself get to ride in one of these iconic chrome yellow buses! It looks just like in the movies! You get in, you drive in them a little…

…and you realise they're shit. Just the worst buses in the western world. Terrible suspension. Uncomfortable seats with weirdly high backs (so they don't have to put seatbelts in, they just restrict how far kids can fly in an accident). Everything made out of the cheapest materials. Turns out the reason why the US uses school buses like that instead of normal modern city buses, which the US has, is to save money and because they just hate kids.

And then it hits you why US Americans say "as American as apple pie", a dish that is made and enjoyed literally anywhere in the world, instead of "as American as yellow school buses". Of course the Americans already knew all this. They got tortured by these things forever. It would never occur to them to see this as a symbol of America, it's just a normal part of life for them. It's a symbol of school and school life and sometimes normalcy, and tells us that these actors getting out of it are supposed to be teenagers, nothing more.

But most people in Europe have, of course, never ridden on these buses. So when they see them in movies and TV, that's a giant big yellow signifier that we're not in Hessen or Wallonia or wherever anymore. A symbol of a different world, one that may be at most a once-in-a-lifetime-experience for most people, just like a picture of a tropical beach, Mayan Pyramids, the Great Wall of China, or Hildesheim (there's no reason to go there twice). And I think Americans don't know that, and that's fascinating.

[gothcsz]

Worst Behavior | Secret Service Agent!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~6.1k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Tired of living in the confines of being the President's daughter— you sneak out, only to be caught by the head of your security, Javier Peña.

Tags: smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20s/javier is in his 40s), mean!javi i think, hurt/no comfort?, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), creampie, oral (m receiving), cock worship (i need to suck this man off), fingering, degrading names (slut, whore), semi-public sex (a car in the alleyway because i'm incapable of writing bedroom sex scenes apparently), infidelity (javi is married to lorraine in this au), dubcon (reader is drunk throughout this), no use of y/n, no physical descriptions, if it gets redundant it's because i wrote this at 4 am, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: secret service counts as bodyguard, right? right! this is for @auteurdelabre's amazing trope off with the trope i chose being, well, bodyguard 🖤 i had a lot of fun writing this, rip brat summer you will be missed! let me know what you think besties, i hope you guys enjoy! 🖤

The garden party is just like all the others—stuffy, overly formal, and dreadfully boring.

Crisp white tablecloths, lavish floral arrangements, and people so proper they could break under the weight of their own fake smiles. You sit there, listening to the endless parade of politicians and diplomats, watching them laugh at jokes that aren’t funny, and nod through speeches about policies that barely concern you.

You hate it. All of it. The politics, the empty pleasantries, the way people look at you like you’re a porcelain doll who must be carefully handled. But tonight’s different. 

Tonight, you have a plan.

Feigning a headache? Easy. You’ve been doing it for years, perfecting the art of slipping away unnoticed. You even relish the concerned whispers, the fake sympathy in their eyes. 

She can’t even handle a small gathering. Poor thing.

The moment you’re out of sight, the act drops. The tension releases, and your heart races, not from anxiety but from excitement.

You time your bathroom trip perfectly, ducking out of the guest quarters and navigating through the mansion’s less-frequented hallways.

Slipping past the Secret Service isn’t easy, but you’ve learned the gaps in their routine, the places they don’t check. It takes skill, but tonight, you’ve got it.

You’re free.

The rush of adrenaline is intoxicating. It feels foreign, but oh so thrilling, like the first breath of fresh air after being stifled for too long. You aren’t just her anymore— not the perfect girl with the pressure of a nation’s eyes on you, not the symbol of a legacy you never wanted.

You’re just a girl. You’re you.

The club hits you like a shock to the system, but it’s exactly what you crave. The air is thick with heat and bodies, the music pounding so loudly it thrums through your bones, syncing with the beat of your heart. It’s the opposite of everything your life has been—raw, chaotic, real. You feel the tightness of the dress hugging your body, a deliberate rebellion against the prim, conservative outfits you’re usually forced to wear.

There’s nothing modest about this. It clings to every curve, drawing eyes. 

The alcohol hits fast, warm and buzzing, setting your blood on fire and sharpening your senses. You raise your arms, let the music take you. Let it drown out the noise in your head— the expectations, the responsibilities, the endless duties.

Your date’s hands find your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers dig in just enough for you to feel anchored, his breath warm against your neck. You lean back into him, letting the heat of his body and the thrum of the bass take you somewhere far away from reality.

You aren’t the girl born with a silver spoon shoved down her throat, suffocating in the luxury you never asked for. No cameras, no protocols, no rules. Just you, him, and the music.

His hands are everywhere, gliding over your hips, fingertips brushing the hem of your barely-there dress. His lips press against your neck, and you let your head fall back, enjoying yourself for the first time in forever.

Everything feels hazy, dreamlike. His mouth moves to your ear, the scrape of his breath sending shivers down your spine, whispering something about sneaking off to the bathroom.

The idea is scandalous and that alone makes you want to indulge it even more. You close your eyes, swaying with him, floating.

The world outside of this moment feels so far away. You don’t even notice the man cutting through the crowd, coming straight toward you.

Not until a large, strong hand clamps down around your arm and yanks you out of your date’s grasp.

You gasp, eyes snapping open, and spin around, blinking against the blur of neon lights, your heart jumping into your throat. Your gaze lifts and you see him— Javier Peña. Oh, shit.

You immediately recognize the stern, commanding face, dark eyes sharp even in the low light of the club. He’s the head of your security, the one you juked earlier when you slipped away from the garden party.

And the look he’s giving you right now? It’s killer. Could easily send you to an early grave.

His brows are furrowed in a deep frown, lips set in a tight line, his usual stoic expression sharpened by the flashing lights around you. His jaw is clenched so hard, you’re afraid he’s going to dislocate it. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, burning with barely restrained fury.

You’ve been in trouble before, but this? This is something else.

“Hey, man, what the fuck is your problem?” Your date yells, trying to stand his ground, though his voice wavers a bit as he raises it above the music. For a second, you think he might actually try to do something.

Javier straightens up, his broad shoulders squared, chest puffing out, and it’s like watching a lion preparing to pounce. The guy you’re with, barely older than you, tries to hold his own, but as Javier towers over him, something in your date just... crumbles. The bravado slips from his face so quickly.

“I’d suggest you get the fuck away from her,” Javier growls, his voice low and deadly, “before I have the SWAT team outside drag your sorry ass to federal prison.” His words cut through the air like a knife, and even in the middle of the pounding music, the threat hangs heavy.

Your date’s eyes go wide, panic flickering across his face as he stumbles back. There’s no arguing with a man like that.

The guy might have been cocky a minute ago, but he’s not stupid.

He takes one last glance at you, like he’s weighing his options, but it’s clear he’s already made up his mind. Without another word, he’s scrambling away, blending into the crowd.

The people around you keep dancing, completely oblivious to the scene that just played out. But your heart is still pounding in your chest, your arm tingling where Javier’s grip lingers, and you can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

You glance up at him, breathless, and he looks back at you, his jaw still tight, eyes still stormy. God, he’s intense. And somehow, that only makes the heat between you burn hotter.

He’s livid. You don’t need words to understand that. 

“Peña—” you start, trying to find your voice, but it falters under the intensity of his glare. You’re used to seeing him calm, collected, the perfect professional.

That damn RJF— Resting Javi Face, as you’ve coined it. He never breaks, no matter how much you’ve tried to mess with him in the past.

You’ve spent years teasing him, trying to crack his cool exterior, just to see him react, to get something more than that unwavering stone face. But he never gives you more than the occasional twitch of his jaw, a flick of his brow. 

Until now.

Seeing him like this, thoroughly pissed off, stirs something deep inside you, something that’s both thrilling and dangerous. You can’t help the way your heart skips or how your skin flushes beneath his grip.

You’ve always found him damn near irresistible— ever since the moment you first laid eyes on him when your mom reworked your security detail. He became your personal heartthrob, eye candy for the days when you were stuck inside the house, surrounded by guards and endless rules. 

You’d never act on it, though. Especially since he’s married, that much you know by the golden band that wraps around his ring finger.

However, the way he’s looking at you now, with those smoldering eyes, is doing something to you. More than just a flutter in your chest. Anticipation pools at the base of your spine, and— damn— you’re definitely feeling it between your thighs.

He’s clearly ready to drag you back to the mansion and lock you up for good. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” His voice is gravelly and laced with a level of frustration that almost makes you moan. He leans down, his face inches from yours, and you can smell the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the alcohol-soaked air. It’s dizzying. “I’ve been looking for you for hours.”

The accusation in his tone is unmistakable, but you can’t help the smirk that curls at the corner of your lips. The alcohol you’ve consumed gives you some hardcore liquid courage. “Found me now, didn’t you?”

His eyes flash with something you can’t quite read— anger, annoyance. He takes a step closer, his chest brushing against yours. You’re buzzing all over, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re in trouble, or because the way his presence towers over you is doing things to you that no man has ever done before. 

“You think this is a game?” His voice drops lower, a dangerous edge to it that sends a delicious thrill through your body.

It feels like the music has been put on mute with the way you can hear him so clearly.

You’d definitely pass out if not for how bad you want him.

His fingers tense just a little more around your arm, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that you’re under his reign right now. 

“I didn’t—” you start, but the words die in your throat when he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Let’s fucking go” His tone is final, commanding, and it leaves no room for argument. You can’t help but want to push him a little more.

You bite your lip, feeling the pulse of desire starting its familiar beat against your clit.

“Make me.”

The way he yanks you through the sea of sweaty bodies has you stumbling, your heels wobbling beneath you as a surprised yelp escapes your lips.

The liquor in your system makes it all a blur— the music returns all at once and it jump scares you back to your surroundings; lights flashing, then suddenly, you’re outside in the cool night air.

The alley is dark and quiet compared to the chaos inside the building, the only sound now the distant bass reverberating through the walls. His government issued black SUV sits nearby, its tinted windows gleaming under the dim streetlights.

So no SWAT team? Figures, he probably just said that to scare your date away.

He finally lets go of your arm, and you pull away sharply, rubbing the spot where his grip lingered a little too tight.

“I’m not leaving,” you declare, lifting your chin defiantly. You plant your stiletto clad feet, standing your ground, even though the alcohol is still buzzing through your veins, making everything feel unsteady but bold. 

Javier lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he scratches his jaw. His hands settle on his narrow waist, the standard suit and tie he’s always in, making him look even more handsome.

“You’re not leaving?” he repeats, as if testing the absurdity of your statement. He arches a brow, his lips curling in a sarcastic smirk. “You think this is a negotiation? Because I can assure you, it’s not.”

You cross your arms over your chest, the dress clinging to your skin like a second layer, you can damn near see your heartbeat through the material as you lock eyes with him. “I’m tired of always following someone else’s schedule. Living in my mother’s shadow, doing what I’m told, when I’m told. You don’t get it, Peña. You have no idea what it’s like to have every aspect of your life controlled by someone else.” You can’t help but ramble, tongue loose, “I never get a damn second to myself, to do anything I want!” Your voice rises with each word, frustration boiling over, the alcohol making you bolder than you’d normally be. “So, no. I’m staying right here and enjoying my night out.”

Javier’s smirk disappears, replaced by a hard, unyielding stare. His brown eyes remain dark and guarded, the nearby orange street light casting shadows across his chiseled face. “You’re acting like a spoiled brat,” he says flatly. “This is the life you’re stuck with until your mother is out of office. It’s not about what you want. You think you can just sneak away because it’s inconvenient? Because it’s hard?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, swaying slightly. “Easy for you to say, standing there in your perfect little suit, playing agent while I drown every day under the pressure of expectations I never asked for.”

Javier’s jaw flexes. “It could be a whole lot worse. You don’t like it? Too bad. Your mother doesn’t even know you’ve snuck out, and I’m not about to let her find out. I need to get you sober and back to the White House before she realizes you’re missing.” His tone is final, like he’s already made up his mind.

You step forward, eyes flashing with rebellion. “Or,” you play right into his hands, switching up entirely. A slow, deliberate, small smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth.

His eyes narrow as he watches you approach, hands still at his waist. 

You trail a finger along the edge of his tie, tugging it gently, testing his reaction. He swallows harshly, throat twitching at the action. “Why don’t we both stay? Let loose and have some fun,” you purr, low and teasing, fluttering your eyes as you look up at him. “We could both use a night off.”

He grits his teeth and pulls back slightly, but not enough to break the moment. “Don’t,” he warns, tone laden with something that sounds a lot less like anger and more like desire. “You’re drunk. This isn’t happening.”

“Am I?” You are, obviously. “Or are you just afraid that you’ll like it?” You challenge him, cocking your head to the side slightly.

“What’s the matter, Javier? Is your wife not fulfilling her duties at home? Is that why you’re obsessed with me?”

That strikes a nerve. “Enough,” he growls, voice strained and mean. You don’t give a single fuck, leaning in even closer, your lips ghosting over his jaw. His breath is ragged now, hand twitching at his side, as if he’s debating whether to push you away or pull you closer.

You don’t care that this is dangerous, that it’s wrong. All you care about is the way he’s looking at you now, like he’s been holding back for far too long. And maybe, just maybe, tonight is the night he listens to that voice in his head that’s been craving you all along.

“You’re not pushing me away…” you whisper, “Which makes me think that I’m right about your wife.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you feel him tense up. The thrill of his reaction is like electricity.

His silence only emboldens you, makes you lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear as you stand on the tips of your toes. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head, the conflict, the desire.

“So why don’t we just fuck?” you say it so bluntly, it almost sobers you up. Your lips are so close to his that you can almost taste him. The small hairs of his mustache tickle your cupid’s bow. “Get it over with. Scratch the itch.”

His hand shoots up, holding your jaw, stopping you in your tracks. His grip is tight, making you wince as his fingers dig into your cheeks.

His eyes carry a storm, filled with the kind of hunger you’ve been dying to see from him.

“You really do think this is a game, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He moves quickly, using the hold on your face to pull you in for a bruising kiss. It’s not soft or gentle— it’s hungry, desperate, all teeth and tongue as he devours you.

His lips are adamant against yours, rough from the way he’s been biting them in frustration. You can taste the desperation, the pent-up desire.

You kiss him back just as fiercely, your body pressing into his, hands fisting in the front of his suit jacket as you pull him closer. There’s no space between you, no hesitation left. You whimper against his mouth, head spinning from the alcohol still pulsing through your veins and the way his hands have found your waist, gripping you tight.

He pulls away just long enough to breathe, his forehead pressing against yours. “You’re out of your damn mind,” he mutters, but even as he says it, his hands are pulling you in again, pressing your hips against his as if he can’t stop himself.

His eyes are wild now, the usual cool detachment replaced with a recklessness that matches yours.

“And you’re loving every second of it,” you murmur back, your lips already brushing against his again, teasing him, daring him to take more.

Javier growls deep in his throat, and suddenly, he’s spinning then guiding you toward the SUV. You stumble backward, your heels clicking against the pavement, barely able to keep up with his pace yet again. 

He pushes you up against the side of the vehicle, your back hitting the cool metal with a soft thud. The contrast between the cold steel and his burning touch sends shivers down your spine. And then his mouth is on yours again, harder this time, his body pressing you into the car, his hands roaming over your curves like he’s been starving for this.

Your fingers card through his hair as you pull him closer, wanting more, needing more. His lips trail down your neck, his stubble scraping against your softness. He nips at the sensitive skin just below your ear, making you gasp.

You arch against him, body responding to every rough touch and kiss. His hands fall over the fabric of your dress, tugging at the hem, sliding it up your thigh.

“Fucking with me all the time just to get me to react,” his fingers press firmly against your clit, teasing through the thin fabric of your panties. The sensation has you whimpering, your head falling back against the metal.

“Then sneaking out like this. I could lose my job over your carelessness.” His teeth sink into your neck, sharp and punishing, making you gasp in surprise, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“But no,” he hisses, his words dripping with contempt as he presses harder, fingers circling your clit in a way that makes your knees weak, hooking one of your legs up on his waist to spread you open further for him “the perfect princess doesn’t give a fuck. She’s too busy whining about being taken care of.” His free hand yanks at your panties, and the flimsy fabric gives way with a harsh tear, leaving you exposed.

The sudden rush of cool air against your hot skin is nothing compared to the feel of his calloused fingers returning to your pussy, spreading the wetness around before plunging two fingers inside you roughly.

The stretch is intense, and you moan loudly, cunt squeezing around his fingers as he works you with a rough precision, like he knows exactly how to break you down.

“You talk a lot for someone who’s fucking a woman half your age,” you bite out, but the words are weak, caught somewhere between a challenge and a plea.

You’re playing a dangerous move here, but the power struggle between you and him is addictive, like a live wire sizzling between you both.

He stops suddenly, fingers still inside you, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His expression is dark, dangerous, and filled with something primal. His free hand comes up to wrap around your neck, the cool band of his ring against your heated skin sends a shock through you, and you narrow your eyes at him, daring him to make his next move.

“Tired of you runnin’ that fucking mouth,” he grunts, tightening his grip on your throat just enough to make your breath hitch. With his other hand, he undoes his belt, the gentle clink of metal the only warning you get before he’s pushing you down roughly to your knees.

Your eyes widen as you look up at him, your heart racing. “Here?” you whisper, your voice breathy, equal parts shocked and exhilarated.

Javier tilts his head, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he strokes himself, his cock heavy and girthy in his hand. “So now you care?” His tone is patronizing, but his eyes are filled with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. You bite your lip as your gaze drifts lower, unable to stop yourself from taking in the sheer size of him, the pressure between your thighs building to an unreachable height.

Without another word, he brings you closer by the back of your neck, and your mouth parts instinctively. Your tongue swirls around the spongy tip, tasting the salty slickness of his precome. His fingers dig into your scalp as he guides your movements, but it doesn’t take long for his hips to start thrusting forward, fucking your mouth with no patience, no hesitation.

The pace is brutal, your throat burning as he pushes deeper. His thighs twitch ever so often and you can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding back just enough to not completely unravel.

Saliva dribbles from the corners of your mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks and smudging your perfectly applied makeup as you suck him off with desperation.

Your knees ache from grinding against the rough pavement, but the pain is nothing compared to the mess in your cunt, the need building with every rough move. 

“Who would’ve thought you could be such a slut,” Javier grunts, his hand gripping the back of your head, keeping you in place. His words are condescending, each syllable dripping with lust.

He pulls you off his cock, a string of spit connecting your lips to his flushed head. “You look so fuckin’ filthy like this,” a cruel smirk is on his lips as he directs your mouth lower, pressing your face against his balls. 

Now drunk on him— on the power he’s holding over you, on the taste of him filling your senses— you eagerly obey, your tongue darting out to trace his heavy sack. You moan as you take each one into your mouth, suckling gently, savoring the weight and the taste of him. His low groan above you is all the encouragement you need to keep going, your lips moving greedily as you continue to worship him with no hands.

“Fuck,” he breathes, the rough sound of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Had I known you were this good at sucking dick, I would’ve fucked that pretty little throat ages ago.”

His words spur you on, making you feel powerful, wanted, as though you’re giving him something he’s been missing. Something his wife can’t provide. The thought stirs something dark inside of you, a thrill that mixes with the burning in your pussy as you take him back into your mouth, deep-throating him in one smooth motion.

Your palm finally reaches up, fondling his balls as you move, your throat contracting around him with every stroke, the sound of your gagging filling the alley. 

You pull him out again, spitting on his cock and pumping him with both hands, your grip slick as you work him faster, relishing in the way his head tips back, eyes squeezed shut in bliss. 

After a few more minutes of your sloppy, eager blowjob, he groans and yanks you off him, his hands rough as he drags you to your feet. Before you can process what’s happening, he’s thrown open the backdoor of the SUV, damn near tossing you inside before climbing in behind you. 

The moment he’s inside, his badge and gun are discarded to the side, and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap as he leans back against the seat. His cock is hard and slick, pressing against your soaked entrance, but he doesn’t push inside yet. 

Instead, he yanks the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts, and immediately latches his mouth onto one of your nipples. His wet tongue swirls around the sensitive bud as his free hand pinches and tugs at the other, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy. 

You moan loudly, your hips grinding down against his dick, sliding him between your slick folds, teasing both of you.

You’ve made a mess of his white shirt and part of his slacks.

You wonder if he’ll go home to her like this. Kiss her with the same mouth that’s kissed you.

Every inch of your skin is on fire, the need to have him inside of you building with every passing second. 

“Javier, please,” you whine, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push yourself down onto him.

He pulls away from your breast with a wet pop, “Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his hand trails down your body, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Begging for my cock like a whore.”

You bite your lip, your pride long forgotten as you look down at him, a needy expression painting your face. “Please, Javi,” you beg, grinding harder against him, feeling the thick head of his cock press against your entrance. “I need you. Please— fuck me.”

He chuckles darkly, his grip on your hips bruising the skin as he holds you still. “You think I’m just gonna give you what you want after the way you’ve been acting?”

Before you can respond, his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting of the spank making you cry out in surprise. “Javi!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles, landing another spank on the other cheek. “You want my cock? Earn it.”

You moan, your body trembling as the pain mixes with the pleasure coursing through you. His words, his rough treatment— it only makes you want him more. “Please,” you sob, your voice shaky as you wiggle your hips, trying to push him inside, the lingering sting of his smacks vibrating against your plush skin. 

He groans, and in one swift motion, he thrusts up into you, his cock stretching you wide as he sinks deep inside. You cry at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing before relaxing as the pleasure of being filled washes over you.

“Fuck,” it feels like his cock has punched you in the lungs, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, riding him slowly at first, your head thrown back as you savor the feeling of him inside of you. “So fucking big.”

Javier grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he guides your movements, bucking up into you as you swivel your hips. “That’s it,” his teeth graze your neck as he thrusts harder, deeper. “Take it, princess. Take every inch.”

You moan loudly, your body then bouncing on his lap as you both lose yourselves in the heat of the moment.

Nothing else matters except the way he feels inside you and the filthy words spilling from his lips as you fuck each other like you’ve both been waiting for this for far too long.

The sounds coming from both of you—wet, filthy, primal—fill the confined space of the SUV. The smell of sex and leather in the air.

Each thrust of his hips sends you spiraling closer to the edge, your bodies colliding in a frenzied rhythm that makes the vehicle rock with your movements. Thank fucking God the windows are tinted.

Javier’s hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your frantic movements, his cock buried deep inside of you, hitting every spot that makes you cry out in pleasure.

Eyes are half-lidded as he watches your breasts bounce while you hop on his dick.

His lips part, a low groan escaping him as he feels you flutter around him, your pussy tightening with the promise of your impending orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grits out. He’s close— so fucking close— and the way you’re moving, the way you’re so desperate for him, makes it impossible for him to hold back much longer.

His brow furrows, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face as he thrusts up into you harder, faster— chasing his own release. “You’re gonna make me come, princess,” he groans, his fingers digging into your skin as he bites down on his lower lip.

Your head falls back, your lips parted in a breathless moan as the band inside you snaps. “Javi,” you mewl, barely able to get his name out as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, sending your body trembling and convulsing around him. “Oh fuck, I’m coming,” you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm ripples through you. “Harder— please.”

He grits his teeth once he feels you unravel around him, your pussy clenching against his cock. It gets him there with you, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as his hips jerk up harshly a few more times time.

His release hits him hard, spilling into you without asking, but you don’t notice nor care. You both ride out the aftershocks together, tangled in each other’s arms, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, the car still rocking slightly as the final thrusts slow.

For a brief moment, everything is still. Your fingers trailing over his skin as you try to catch even out your breathing.

But then, reality slams back into focus.

Javier’s body goes rigid beneath you, his hands releasing their grip on your hips as if what just happened is sinking in all at once. “Get off,” he mutters, his voice suddenly sharp. “Now.”

You blink, disoriented, still riding the afterglow, but the tone of his voice cuts through the haze. You hesitate for a second, looking down at him, trying to read his expression. There’s no trace of the infatuation that had consumed him just moments ago. Instead, his face is etched with regret, his lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight.

“Javi…” you start, but he cuts you off, his hand coming up to push you gently but firmly off his lap.

“Get. Off,” he repeats, leaving no room for argument.

You pull away, your body trembling slightly as you move off him, awkwardly adjusting your dress. The tension is suffocating as Javier quickly pulls up his pants, his hands shaking slightly as he fastens his belt. He’s avoiding your gaze, his brows furrowed in frustration as he runs a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

“We need to go,” his voice is cold and distant, as if the intimacy you just shared never happened. “Before your mother declares a state of emergency on the entire country.”

He digs into his pocket, your ruined panties then are tossed at you and you bite your lip, feeling the sting of rejection settle deep in your chest.

Once he’s fixed his clothes, Javier moves with a tense efficiency, reholstering his gun and straightening his badge like nothing happened.

His movements are mechanical, as if he’s trying to regain control, trying to rebuild that wall he always hides behind. You sit there, watching him in silence, a real icy feeling knotting in your chest.

He doesn’t look at you as he steps out of the SUV, slamming the door behind him forcefully and it makes you flinch. The loud thud echoes through the car, leaving you alone in the backseat with nothing but your racing thoughts and destroyed underwear.

The shame snaps into you then, creeping up your spine and spreading through your body like poison. You wipe the smeared makeup from under your eyes, fix your dress, but there’s no saving it. Literally and metaphorically.

He slips into the driver’s seat a moment later. He doesn’t say a word.

You sink back into the leather seat, the silence absolutely deafening. The back of the car feels like a cage now— your earlier exhilaration has all but disappeared. All that’s left is this gnawing sense of regret swirling in your gut.

The engine hums to life as he drives out of the alleyway, his movements precise and methodical, the way they always are when he’s on the job.

Like he’s already compartmentalizing.

You consider saying something— anything to break the silence that’s strangling you both— but the words die on your lips. What would you even say?

“You should’ve never snuck out,” Javier finally speaks lowly, as if it’s painful for him to even acknowledge the situation. “You’re lucky no one saw you.”

There’s an edge to his words, but it’s not the usual reprimand. Rather just regret, frustration, and anger all wrapped into one.

You don’t respond right away, your eyes fixed on the traffic ahead. “I don’t care,” you finally mutter, more to yourself than to him. “I’m sick of it. Of all of it.” You pause, your throat tight with emotion. “For once, I just wanted to feel like I was in control.”

Javier lets out a harsh breath, his hands tightening on the wheel. “Control? ” He scoffs, his tone biting. “You don’t even know what that word means.”

You turn your head to glare at him, heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not a fucking child.” He chuckles at that, wordlessly saying otherwise. “And you don’t know what it’s like to live my life,” you snap, the frustration boiling over. “To constantly be watched, to have every move scrutinized, to be paraded around like some perfect fucking doll when I didn’t ask for any of it.”

His grip on the wheel loosens slightly, but his face remains impassive. “None of this is new,” he reminds you, “You knew what your life would be like when your mother was re-elected. It’s not about you anymore. It never was.”

You feel the sting of his words, but you refuse to back down. “Maybe it should be,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “Maybe I should get to live my life the way I want to. Not the way everyone else expects me to.”

Brown eyes flicker toward you in the rearview mirror for a split second. He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter,” his voice is tight. “You can try again in four years.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you sink deeper into the seat. “You just want to pretend this never happened.”

Javier’s silence is answer enough.

The rest of the ride is quiet and tense. When you finally pull up to the back gates of the White House, you sigh when your lavish prison comes into view and when he parks right outside the private entrance that you and the rest of your family get in and out of.

Javier glances in the rearview mirror one final time, his expression unreadable, before he cuts the engine and steps out.

He opens the back door for you, his handsome face set in that familiar stoic mask. “Let’s go,” he orders, tone flat, devoid of the erotic emotions from earlier.

You hesitate, a pout forming on your lips, the confidence you’d wielded earlier crumbling to dust. Your legs wobble as you step out, shaky and weak from how he fucked you

He shrugs off his jacket and throws it over your bare shoulders. The gesture would’ve felt protective, maybe even tender, in another moment. But now, it’s a calculated move to cover up the evidence of what you just did. He’s not doing it for you— he’s doing it for his job. 

He walks you inside, his large hand resting lightly at your lower back as if guiding you, but the warmth you once felt from his touch is nowhere to be found. His eyes dart around the hall, scoping the area, making sure none of the other agents that he commands are around to see you.

He nods curtly when the coast is clear, a silent gesture to keep moving. You feel like a liability— something to be hidden away, managed, not the girl who he was just balls deep inside.

The heels you’re wearing are muted against the thick carpet as you walk down the long hallway toward your bedroom. Each step feels like an eternity. 

When you finally reach your bedroom door, he pulls the jacket from your shoulders without a word. You blink back the sting of tears, throat tightening at the action.

He’s not just being distant—he’s erasing you, erasing the moment, wiping it all away like it meant nothing.

Because it hadn’t meant a damn thing. He is married, after all. You were nothing but an easy fuck. A form of relief. Eye candy for him as he was for you.

Without looking back or saying anything, you push open the door and step inside. The soft click of the latch as you shut it in his face echoes in the stillness and you don’t need to look back to know that there’s nothing behind those brown eyes for you anymore. 

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie isn't allowed to travel alone Anymore

So! Ellie was raised in a Lab by a Genuine Bonefied Supervillain. She was raised to be a Villain as well, so her Moral Conpass is a little skewed.

Sure she *mostly* knows what is right and wrong from Danny's quick lesson before her Adventure around the Country, but she still has trouble separating what is moral and what is not from time to time.

So it's really no surprise that the moment she left Amity Park she somehow ended up being branded a Villain.

Look, it's not her fault she didn't know not to attack the flying guy in Blue Spandex when he approached her! One of Danny's biggest warnings shen she left had been Stranger Danger! She did what any 12 year old girl would have done when approached by a strange Older Man!

Its also not her fault that her powers (being Magic based), managed to affect him! She didn't even use her full power! (She maybe should have kicked him in a different place tho...she hopes he wasn't planning on having kids...)

So she did what her instincts told her to do. She took any money he had on him and ran the hell away!

It wasn't until she was 2 cities over when she saw a newspaper titled, "Little Villain Girl Mugs Superman in Broad Daylight!", that she realized she may have screwed up...

After that, she really had no excuse.

She knew that she probably shouldn't have kept Mugging the Heroes who approached her, but she wasn't a Fenton for nothing! Her Family Motto had always been "Commit to the Bit", and she was gonna stick to it!

So when the Fast Red Guy tried to tie her up, she phased off all his clothes and took off with his money (not the mask, she knew enough not to take that off)

And when the Grumpy Bat Guy tried to corner her with some weird papers he pulled out of his Belt, she just distracted him while her clone picked his pockets and made off with the wheels of his Car. That one made her a pretty penny!

The flying Green Guy was fun, his attacks were just throwing Ghost Candy (pure willpower) at her. He did stop doing do after she nicked his fancy talking Ring however, but it was fun while it lasted

Then she came across a Orange Fish Guy, and he actually seemed nice enough. But she was committing to the Bit, so she took the fancy Trident he had and sold it at a nearby Pawn Shop for some extra cash. He would probably be able to find it, that's why she chose a nearby location.

All in All, her Adventure had been really fun! So she decided to visit Amity Park again to tell Danny all about it!

...

Aquaman walked into the meeting room of the Watchtower, a very frustrated look in his eye.

Barry spoke up first, "Oh! I know that look in your eye! She got to you too didn't she!"

Arthur just glared at Barry for a second before walking over to his Chair, sitting down with a thump. "She is certainly a tricky child."

"What did she take this time?" Clark asked.

"..mttrident..." Arthur grumbled out quickly.

"What was that?" Asked Barry with a twinkle in his eye. He heard it, but he wanted everybody else to know.

"She took my trident, Okay!" Arthur shouted out.

"I feel ya man." Responded Hal, "At least with me she threw it back at me when she realized it wasn't making 'candy' anymore. What did she do with yours?"

"She sold it at a Pawn Shop!" Arthus yelled in frustration, "She managed to steal one of the most Powerful Magical Weapons in the world, the Symbol of the entire Atalantean Royal Bloodline, and she sold it and a Pawn Shop!"

"...how much did she get for it?" Asked Hal.

At this, Aquaman just collapsed to the table and groaned.

...

Alternatively she could have just kept all those things, and gradually built up a collection of all the JLA's most treasured possessions.

She has Supermans Wallet, not very important to him but it was her first mugging

She has Batmans Utility Belt (trackers removed) along with his Tires

She took Flashes Costume Ring (his civilian clothes still stuck inside)

She took Green Lanterns ring as well, but unfortunately it managed to escape after a few days. It was feisty.

And her crowning Jewel is the Trident she took from Aquaman.

(She avoided WW, cause she likes her too much to steal anything from her)

[incesthemes]

in provenance, the impala is depicted as quite dirty and beat-up, scuffed up and covered in mud. this is not the typical image that comes to mind when you say a man loves his car. in later seasons too, the impala tends to look shiny and new, and dean is seen performing maintenance on it pretty regularly—at least, there are many scenes that show dean taking care of it, and there are also many scenes which touch on dean's possessiveness and care for his car.

this isn't the case in season 1. season 1 dean has a beat-up hand-me-down from his dad which he loves and admires but is still willing to let it get dirty and dented and scuffed.

in season 1, the impala represents john.

based on how john talks about the car in dead man's blood, he still has a semblance of ownership over it: john gave dean the car, but he still considers it "his" in the sense that he feels entitled to judge how dean cares for it. dean, too, doesn't argue with this. in season 3, dream dean even uses this against real dean to drag out his insecurities and his abysmal self-esteem:

both john and dean agree that the impala is john's car. this makes sense because the impala is also sam and dean's literal home, or the closest to home they've ever gotten.

you have a good "home is where the heart is" kind of connection here: the impala is home, and john is the impala—john is home, john is their father, john is the thing that connects sam and dean by blood. et cetera et cetera.

so if the impala represents john, then how dean treats the impala gives the audience a lovely visual metaphor for how dean feels about john. provenance is just one episode after something wicked, where dean is finally starting to extricate himself from his father. the entire season has followed dean as he experiences betrayal after betrayal from his father, and in shadow we see evidence that he doesn't actually believe that his father will come to protect them anymore—he's effectively given up on john as someone to rely on, and he's spent the whole season separating himself from john and attaching himself to sam instead. provenance gives a nice wink and nod at this by showing the state of the impala—dean is upset with john, their relationship is crumbling, and dean doesn't know how to repair it.

one episode later john remarks on the state of the car, and one episode later dean finally defies his father for seemingly the first time.

so when dean starts destroying the impala in everybody loves a clown, what dean is actually destroying is john.

he feels angry, upset, hurt, betrayed all over again. john is dead, and his final words to his son gave him an impossible task. dean takes the crowbar to the impala right after sam corners him into another conversation about john—this is an outpouring of his emotions about him, all concentrated on the last remaining symbol of his father.

but what i think is interesting is that sam doesn't see the impala this way.

sam sees the impala as dean. the symbolism here is very, very obvious. if sam gives up on the impala, then he's metaphorically giving up on dean. and sam refuses to let dean die, so he can't let the impala die, either. to sam, the impala is dean. which necessarily means that to sam, dean is his home, as well.

which is exactly what he just chose in the season 1 finale when he picked dean over his revenge. sam spent the entire season scared to "go home," and in devil's trap he finally returns for good to his home—to dean.

and in bloodlust, the impala is fixed, and she's shining like new. from this moment on, dean shows a rather pointed possessiveness over his car.

this is also the first time dean calls the impala "baby." this is the first thing that happens after dean destroyed it in the episode prior. the dissonance gives a sense of rebirth: something happened between dean destroying the impala and dean fixing it. something happened between dean using the impala as a stand-in for his father and dean calling it his baby.

in season 2, the impala no longer represents john. john is dead, and dean killed him. "home" is no longer centered around john; their father is no longer the thing that connects sam and dean. in devil's trap they chose each other, they chose codependency, they created a relationship between them that transcends the family structure they inherited from john. john is not part of this new relationship—it's just sam and dean now, and john is dead.

dean assimilates to sam's perspective when he rebuilds the impala: his car is now an extension of himself, and he is the home that sam chose. this is now his car, not john's; he is now sam's family, not john. and throughout the first half of season 2 dean struggles with this new responsibility and what that means for him—how their codependency should work, whether or not he should try to fill john's shoes, what "home" is supposed to look like for them without john in it.

i think it's an interesting way to depict dean's emotional shift across this stretch of episodes. seasons 1 and 2 especially do a lot of great work to depict john even in his physical absence, from allegorical substitutes to his haunting presence to this, representing him through the symbol of their literal home. noticing this makes me much more emotional about the impala's role in the story, because it's a physical manifestation of the effort dean put in to become sam's home and commit to their codependent relationship. he loves his car because it's his home, and his home is where sam and dean's hearts are.

[mangalho]

Ex-warbot OC

They don’t have names yet.

The two bots with the scary faces were specifically made for war, and now that it’s over, they still maintained their original ‘warface’ even though it has stigma associated to it. Many robots changed their faceplates post-war, as it made it easier to find jobs and not get into unnecessary conflict.

The sleeker looking guy used to be in their company, though he wasn’t made in the same factory as them; he isn’t their ’batch-mate’.

After the war he completely modified his frame, and now has an idol career. He desperately wats to erase his past, as people (and robots alike) will respond better to a ‘new’ and untainted idol.

The two warface bots are “brother and sister” and they do odd jobs here and there to make ends meet and to be able to afford things they want. Rich people hire them as bouncers a lot since they are a symbol of terrible times. Sometimes they earn 15k in one night for just one gig it’s crazy. They both really love clothes since it distances them from their body’s original purpose while simultaneously not erasing their past. Also they look cute and cool!

The idol bot once meets the warfaces by chance in the street and pretends he doesn’t know them AGAHAKALAK I think he’s insane… completely erasing your past and the person you were is psychopathic to me idk. Anyway

There arent a lot of warfaces going around anymore. since they either died during the war or changed their frames. Pre-war bots were re-fitted during the conflicts and just had to go back to their former unweaponized frames after it was all over so they’re fine.  All of these robots can download information and i want that type of learning to mostly disappear if its deleted, but if they learn things like we do or experience real events, those memories and skills can’t really truly be erased; if they do try erasing them, they will still remember them, just not with HD video clarity, which brings them immense suffering sometimes. “How to people live like this?!” Well buddy it sucks idk we all cope

Newly minted robots are wack because they don’t exactly have a ‘soul’ yet they just do things they’re supposed to do, but after some time, all of them actually develop real awareness and shit… my war bots had like a 78% chance of dying everyday when they were activated, but they survived and attained sentience at like one year post birth and they wised up rly fast after that. They remember their first year, but they describe it as a ‘weird haze’

These robots feel pain so they wont like dive into a hole or damage themselves too much. Self preservation means longer-lived machines which means less repair costs and less human lives on the line as well.. slay !!!

While the conflicts went on, most robots achieved sentience and decided to stop fighting so there was like a robots rights movement and eventually the war stopped altogether and now the robots have a salary and a normal life mostly. They arent organics, so they need other things. They are solar powered and need oil sometimes and also they need new nanomachines once in a while like we need vaccines. Get your boosters… its not just tetanus and coronavirus anymore now they gotta think about like..the trojan horse 9000

I want them to have this aversion to organic things dying bc they are universally gross. Like they dont like seeing living-machines die either but a rat being squished by a car is also gross!

There are probably some tensions between humans and robots but like i kinda get it bc i wouldnt mess with a guy who has like lead pipes for arms. also most robots ARE normal but some are insane idk 🙆‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just  like people are.

 mine are normal tho they’re just vibing 💖🗣🤙

[coldfanbou]

Culmination

Somi's story continues as her husband returns; what will she do? No, but we will see this conclude the story.

Length 2.2K

Somi X Mreader

Previous Part

"I don't want to go home! I want to stay here with you! I want to keep fucking!" Somi cries as she holds onto your leg. Her phone buzzes again, another message.

"I can't wait, honey. I'll have a different position when I get back. I won't need to travel so much, and I can finally spend time at home." You both see the message from her husband.

"He'll be back and spending more time at home. Even if I wanted to, there would be no chance." 

"I-I… no." Somi shakes her head violently. She runs her hand through her hair, ruffling it. Her breathing quickens, "I-"

"No more of this, Somi. Go home. He'll be waiting for you." You get up and toss Somi a jacket. "I'll take you there." Somi sits on the floor, unmoving. Through many struggles, you put Somi in her clothes and get her to her home. She doesn't move or make a sound. Walking over to her side of the car, you open the door and carry her inside. You leave her on a couch and bring in her things, clothes, toys, and everything that she had brought to your place. She sits on the sofa, head buried in her hands as you leave. The drive back home is quiet and peaceful. 

The following day you wake up to a load of videos and pictures from Somi. Each one involves her doing some lewd act and begging you to continue the relationship. In one, she's bouncing on a dildo with her legs spread wide open, letting you see her dripping sex as she wishes it was your cock. In another, she's forcing a toy down her throat, her throat bulging when she pushes it in deep. Somi looks into the camera with lustful eyes in each video. As for the pictures, the final one she sends is of her with self-degrading words written on her naked body, "master's pussy" with an arrow pointing to her cunt and the like is written everywhere. A constant throughout everything is the collar she wears. The collar symbolized her submission to you; it was bought for that specific purpose. "Master, your fucktoy needs you. These toys aren't enough for me; I need your big hard cock." She sends in her final message. You ignore her, putting your phone back down. 

When Somi's husband arrived, she made it seem as if everything was normal. However, Somi would send you videos where she'd have a vibrator inside her, explaining that she was hiding everything from her husband. She would still wear the collar, though. You don't know what he thought when he saw Somi wearing such a collar. One day you received a message from him asking you to join them for dinner. You tried to refuse but were forced into it in the end. When the day came for this meal, you tried to keep things professional. "It’s nice to have you back."

"It’s nice to be back. I'm glad I managed to finish early; I was missing Somi." He responds.

"Where is she, by the way? I haven't seen her." 

"Oh, she's cooking." Somi pokes her head out and smiles at you, still wearing that collar. As you turn your head back, you see him rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, you may have noticed that collar. I'm not sure what's come over her. She refuses to take it off."

"Yeah, it's something alright." You reply, trying to figure out how to continue.

He leans in and whispers, "Between you and me, she's also been craving sex at every moment. I can't do it anymore, so I thought inviting you might give me a break."

"Well, you know, you've been gone for so long. She's… probably pent up." You say that, knowing fully why she is the way she is. 

"Dinner's ready!" Somi shouts from the kitchen. She brings out plate after plate of food. You both go to help her and while her husband goes to place a plate on the table, Somi kisses your cheek. "Master, I've tried filling the void, but he's not enough. He doesn't- can't fuck me like you can." She whines quietly into your ear. "Master, your fucktoy needs her owner to use her," Somi adds before returning to the dining room. You follow quickly and place the final plate on the table. Taking your seat, you're annoyed Somi is sitting opposite of you while her husband sits to your right. As you all begin eating and talking, Somi can't help but rub your crotch with her foot. You don't react and push her foot away. Somi frowns for a second before trying to hide her expression. 

"So, how was the trip?" You ask.

"Oh, you know, business is business. I was missing Somi the entire time, though. Did you miss me, Somi?" She fakes a smile and nods without saying a word. She stuffs her face so that she wouldn't have to speak. "I'm just glad to have a different position now; I can stay here and not leave her alone so often." You glance at Somi and see her roll her eyes as her husband continues talking. The meal went like this for a long time; her husband drank a lot of alcohol and got drunk. "Did I tell you about how we've been having sex nonstop?" He boasts. "You should hear her." He says before leaning in for a kiss from her. Somi looked as if she was going to boil over in anger. You watched on awkwardly.

Somi stands up and slaps her husband. "You can't make me feel anything!" She yells. "Anytime we've had sex, I've faked it! I faked everything! Every moan, every orgasm, everything!" Somi's husband looks at her with a shocked expression. "Your little shrimp dick can't make me feel anything! I need a real cock…. I…I want a divorce. I can't do this anymore." Somi glances at you before storming off. 

You and her husband sit there in silence before you eventually stand. "I think I should go. You two seem to, uh, need space." You nod your head at him before leaving him to sit there. Soon after you arrive home, there's a knock at the door. Checking through the peephole, you see Somi, much like the first time she came to you. 

"Master, your fucktoy is ready for you." She says as she opens her jacket. Words like bitch and whore are scribbled on her body, "Do you like what you see, Master? I brought my toys too." She says as she steps to the side to reveal a suitcase. Somi knocks again, "Master? I know you're in there. I saw your car." You open the door.

"What are you doing here, Somi?"

"I can't stay at that place anymore. I'm divorcing him after all. So now we can be together. We can go back to how things were before. We can have all the sex we want." Somi says matter of factly. She steps toward you, pressing her breasts against you. " She stands on her tippy toes and whispers, "You can do anything you want to me, Master. You can even get me pregnant. Can you imagine that? Me with a big swollen belly, you can still fuck me then if you want. We don't have to worry about anyone being involved anymore." 

You step aside and allow Somi inside. "Would you mind explaining why you did what you did?" 

"I couldn't stay there anymore. I tried having sex with him, but he couldn't make me cum. He'd be done, and I got nothing out of it." Somi throws her jacket off and kneels down. She gazes up toward you and opens her mouth. Waiting for you to use her, she sticks her tongue out and kneads her breasts. The sight before you makes you hard, and as much as you want to ignore her actions, you decide not to. You pull down your pants and ram your cock down her throat.

Somi happily accepts it, placing her hands on your thighs as you thrust. "You're just a stupid little whore aren't you?" Somi smiles and nods as best as she can. The cock going up and down her throat doesn't give her the ability to speak. The look on Somi's face is one of pure bliss as her tongue runs along the underside of your cock. Holding her to the base of your cock you feel Somi's tongue slither to your balls, lapping at them before you thrust again. Somi moaned; she rubbed her cunt while you used her warm mouth. Her lips were tightly wrapped around your cock, but that didn't stop drool from dripping down her chin onto her tits. She giggles as you reach down and starts playing with them.

You slowly drag your cock out of her mouth, leaving it at her lips for a second. Somi knows what you want and kisses the head of your cock. "If you want my tits so badly, then why don't you use them?" Somi kneads her breasts, pinching her nipples while waiting. Placing your cock between Somi's tits, you feel the soft flesh surrounding your shaft as she begins stroking your cock with them. "I love your cock." Somi whispers as the warm member slides between her tits, coating them in saliva and precum. "Master's cock is the best." Somi stares at your cock before glancing at you. "Do you like watching your dumb whore use her tits?" She asks, almost innocently.

"Of course," you reply as you push her head down and make her take licks at the head of your cock when it pokes up from her mounds. You start thrusting between Somi's big tits when you feel your orgasm coming. Somi can tell you're close, too; the throbbing cock between her breasts tells her as much. 

"Are you going to cum?" She asks. When you nod your head, she continues, "Cum on my tits, Master!" You explode on her chest, releasing a large wave of semen onto her chest and neck. You pull on her collar, ensuring she gets a pearl necklace.

Pulling on Somi's collar, you get her to her feet. You drag her along to the kitchen, where you bend her over the counter. A hard strike to her ass makes her yelp. You hit her again; Somi's ass slowly becomes red with a large handprint in the middle. "That's it, Master, show your whore who's boss." Somi moans as you spank her again. You press your cock against her cunt, waiting for a second before you impale Somi with it. "Oh fuck!" She cries, and she feels you tear through her pussy. "I feel so full, fuck me, Master. Fuck me!" You hold Somi in place as you start thrusting; her tight cunt holds you as your bodies slam against each other.  Long breathy moans fill the space as Somi enjoys the feeling of your cock slamming into her womb. Letting go of her waist, you move your hands to her breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples. 

"I'm going to cum inside you." You say to Somi.

"Cum inside me, cum inside me!" She moans. "I want you to fill me with your hot cum!" Somi places her hands over yours and squeezes her tits. Being brought so close to her climax, Somi's toes curl as you impale her on your cock and begin filling her with your cum. She screams; the few days of having no orgasms are over. Somi's nectar blasts out onto the cabinets under her as she climaxes. Your cum paints her walls white as they travel to her womb. "Oh god. I feel so full. So full of nice warm cum." Somi lays her head against the cold marble countertop and smiles. "You definitely knocked me up." You lean back and spank Somi. "Oh, Daddy, not so rough on Mommy," Somi coos. You pull your cock out of Somi and watch cum leak onto the floor. Somi's feet reach the ground, and she kneels before you again. "Are we done, Daddy? Or is this just round one?" Somi takes your shaft in her hand and strokes your cock, her hand is dirtied by the cum and nectar on it, but that doesn't bother her. She drags the tip of her tongue along your shaft before popping the tip in her mouth and sucking on it. You push your cock in deeper, causing Somi to laugh. "I knew that was just round one." She says, mumbling her words. You continued to fill Somi's holes with your cum the rest of the day. 

Somi had gone back to wearing nothing as she lived with you. You tried to get her to live elsewhere, but it didn't work out. She’d just be your live-in fucktoy for now. She'd occasionally get messages from her husband, hoping that they would be able to repair the relationship. That didn't work out, either. After he had figured out Somi was living with you, he came to try to talk. Having happened to just gotten home, you were both fully dressed; answering the door, Somi stood there surprised. He was in shock, too, Shocked to see his ex's belly swollen with a child. He fell to his knees, and Somi stared at him before shutting the door in his face without a word being said.

[bzhitstruth]

I'm back to this "space-time loop" with birthdays again. When I see a huge number of coincidences and strange things, chaos appears in my head, so there is a desire to put it all in order.

All this is fake, CPN and my speculation.

So, on October 5th the magic circle with birthdays and DD's journey closed. New circumstances have emerged, and this makes this magic cycle even more interesting.

The Discovery episode about the desert was filmed in Inner Mongolia, this place is called 阿拉善 (Alxa League), a few hours drive from Lanzhou, where DD arrived, and it turns out that this is the same place where GG filmed his vlog on August 5, 2021, which was released on his birthday on October 5, 2021!

Of course, this is pure coincidence, perhaps this place is very suitable for filming picturesque desert landscapes, so different film crews at different times choose the same place. But it very luckily fell into this magic loop.

This year DD posted the photo of the desert with the caption "27" on August 5th, the desert episode came out on October 5th, and DD posted the photo of the desert on October 5th within 1 minute of XZS's post, and he put 3 emojis 3 times each — "33".

The turtles conducted an experiment on their phones, I don't really understand what this function is and how it works, but it is with this combination of emoticons with the tag #探索新境 that the number 33 appears. But the strangest thing is that if you enter this combination without the tag, you get 27! What kind of magic is this that connected the numbers of their ages?

If we continue playing with the number 33, it is literally everywhere: DD posted a total of 33 photos on his personal account during the series' release until October 5, on October 5 DD posted 6 more photos, and 6 is, as we know, 3+3. And also the connection between their ages: 27 is 3 cubed, that is, 27=33. I feel like my brain is refusing to process this information anymore!

In GG's night photos we can see deserted night streets of Beijing, but at the same time, on these streets, next to GG, motorcycles (or battery-powered cars that look like motorcycles) appear. What’s even more interesting is that in one of the photos, GG is standing next to a motorcycle, on the trunk of which, quite by chance, “Adventure” is written and a snowy mountain is depicted. This motorcycle is on the edge of the photo, it could easily be cropped. Why is it there?

At 11:59 PM, the last minute of October 5th, GG posted the video with he singing "Thank you for wishing me goodnight," this is the exact wish that DD had been saying in every part of his journey before going to sleep. And there is one more nuance: in the video, GG says the words “thank you” exactly at the 18th second, and the words “good night” at the 23rd. On this mysterious note, October 5th ended.

And this is just part of what happened on October 5th. Everyone has probably already heard about the same clothes, the portrait on the wall, DD's sudden love for bicycles…

And one more touching moment: by chance or not, but the last photo of the six DD's photos and of all the photos that DD posted during the Discovery show is a sunrise in the desert. It is so symbolic and so good, it looks like a good wish, like a good omen - the darkness will dissipate, and the dawn will surely come. May everything be well with them. 💚❤️.

sources: one, two, three

[meadowtwins]

Tips for broke witches with a budget of 10$/€:

As someone who started with their craft when they were younger, living in a poor household with little to not money for me available, I know how how it is with a budget so low, that being a "true witch" seems impossible.

Well, I just need to remind you all that for practicing witchcraft, you do NOT NEED everything expensive. In fact you only need so little. Sure, the whole witch aesthetic with all the decorations, the cauldrons etc. looks lovely and most of us would really like to achieve that level of perfectionism, but Witchcraft is much more than that. It is a predominately Pagan practice. Nature is one of the biggest, if not the biggest aspect in it. Sometimes you just aren't really knowledgeable about all the options you're available to.

Tip 1: Nature walks:

As mentioned above, Nature is a big aspect. Almost every ingredient and spell componement is seen outside. Take a walk, go into the woods, get off path, you'll find herbs, fruits, flowers, all kinds of decorations. You can find sticks, bind them in any shape and hang them onto your wall. You can cut off (with Natures permission!) Ivy wreaths and hang them up. Pinecones, pineneedles, treebarks, hazelnuts, feathers, wheats all kinds of grass, everything is out there! Take a look on the ground and maybe you'd be lucky to find a few gemstones (yes, they're just out there!) or if animal bones are something for you even that!

Tip 2: Grimoire/Book of Shadows:

Your witchy journal does NOT have to be that expensive leather bound, old journal that the old antique shop sells for 60 dollars because it has a "magical aura". Yes, how can someone pass on that aesthetic, but your book isn't magick by itself. YOU first put the energy into it and make it something magical to you. Without your journaling and time you've spent, it is JUST a book! Therefore a simple notebook that costs like 1.50 max works completely fine! Mine is a notebook if found in my drawer that has a rainbow reflecting surface, trust me, the aesthetic is the thing you should be least concerned about.

Tip 3: Divination Board:

Self-made is always the cheapest option! Again, like your Grimoire, the board isn't the one with with the magical attributes. It's all you! My first divination board was made out of cardboard paper. You have all the options open, it can just be paper or you could even print one out. The material does not devalue the magical properties.

Tip 4: Pendulum:

A pendulum itself is cheaper than you think, look in the right places and you'll see. But if that is too much you can always make one yourself. You have to keep in mind that the item doesn't come with the magic! You're the one making if something magical. Find a pretty stone on the ground (with luck a gemstone!), tie it to a string and wear it as necklace. There you have it!

Tip 5: Cauldron:

A fire bowl, a normal bowl, a plastic bowl etc.! You can use anything. It depends however on what you do with it. Make sure not to use fire irresponsibly if you plan on burning something in it. Keep a window open and don't burn something in a not substitutional material. There's a reason a fire bowl is differencated from a normal bowl.

Tip 6: Gold, Bronze, Silver etc.

This goes for jewelry, tableware, bowls etc. For example in spells/rituals or offerings to a deity. A plate to put your offerings on or to set the spell on. Look into your cupboards! A glass bowl is a popular one to use since it's neutral in it's symbolic and easy to clean. If you'd prefer something golden or any other other material, ask a grandparent or maybe even parent. They usually have some sort of old tableware that is golden or bronze or anything else. If asked (and you're a closet witch!) tell them it's for decoration or putting a candle on it. The same goes for jewerly. Grandparents (or aunts!) usually have old necklaces and earrings they don't need anymore. Or even brooches with imagery you can connect to a deity maybe.

Tip 7: Tarot Cards:

It depends if you believe in the rule that says you cannot buy yourself a tarot deck. I do! Therefore what I did, was make my own one. It took lots of days but in the end I had a full deck! It's lots of work so if you don't want all that from the start, make yourself only the major arcana. Again it can be made out of cardboard, paper etc. The material really doesn't matter. If you're not familiar with the rule, it says your first tarot deck has to be gifted to you, found, or made by yourself. Infact in my case, all three happened to me!

In conclusion, Nature has ALL kinds of componements. You can find so many things all around you if you just look close enough!

But don't forget, cleansing is important! If you take items off the ground out and about, cleanse them off any negative energy before putting them into your household. If anything you need to know I haven't mentioned, just ask.

Happy witching!

[robinsno1lesbian]

Have we thought abt cowgirl!robin yet?? Cause….im thinking about it….thinking about it hard…specifically the “wear the hat ride the cowboy/cowgirl” rule….-🍓

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 - 𝐑.𝐁.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: getting lost in the desert doesn't seem that bad when a pretty stranger on a horse offers her help... 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6668

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content! (MDNI), mention of alcohol, nipple play, oral, strap-ons, light spanking, not a warning but i want to clarify that cowgirl!robin has a southern accent and if you're imagining anything other than that you're wrong, let me know if i missed anything :) 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: save a horse, ride robin buckley. that's all. also @maladaptive-day-dreams & vix helped with the creation of cowgirl!robin. the ending is sort of rushed because I wrote it on my phone, sorry in advance!!

getting lost in the desert wasn't what you had planned when you left your home early this morning.

you'd been on your way to visit friends across the states and had chosen to go on a solo road trip to get there.

people did advise you not to go all alone and, looking back at it now, you understand why.

yet earlier this month, when you were planning it all out, it seemed like a great idea to do this on your own.

you had marked the route on maps, had done as much research as the small town you were living in offered, had gotten your stuff ready and packed the car up only a couple of hours ago, kissing everyone goodbye before leaving.

it isn't even your fault, when things starts going downhill:

your car has given up on you, its engine giving nothing but a pathetic little noise whenever you turn the keys.

and even if it was working like it should be, you have no idea where you are.

the map that you've opened over the steering wheel is not helping one bit. all its many lines and symbols are capable of doing is confuse you further.

you try to memorize all the turns you've previously taken as you trace the tip of your index over the paper but ultimately end up somewhere that can't possibly be right.

"fuck, fuck, fuck" you mutter to yourself as you crumble up the map and throw it onto the backseat. this won't help you anymore.

you bring a hand to your forehead and wipe away your sweat-stained hair. 

the heat is stinging where the car has stopped and, with the sun currently at its highest point up in the sky, there is no lowering of the suffocating temperature in sight.

you look around for what must be the fifth time, somehow still hoping that a town will magically appear somewhere on the horizon. or a telephone booth. or anything that could help you out right now.

but there's nothing.

just the seemingly endless and empty highway ahead, stretching out farther than your eyes can see.

you're lost and desperation slowly settles in. you have less than half a bottle of water left and you're also running short on gas.

circumstances which are definitely concerning considering your current state.

in your head, you're already trying to recall any and all survival-in-the-wilds-advise anyone has ever given you throughout your life. that is when you finally do see something.

it is just a silhouette against the beaming sun at first, but the closer it gets, the clearer becomes the image of your unknowing savior.

"holy shit, holy shit-" you immediately jump out of your car, burning your hand on the heat of the door and far too desperate to care about how stupid this must seem to others.

you're waving your hands at whoever person is riding their horse this close to a highway until they eventually notice you.

the relief that's washing over you is quickly replaced with utter surprise when you realize who is on the back of the horse.

the person in question is wearing denim pants, tight around the thighs and looser on the lower leg, as well as a blouse that is tugged into said pants. right over where a belt sits proudly.

she is wearing a hat to protect her head from the heat and the most cowboy-looking boots you have ever seen all your life.

there's even a damn lasso attached to the belt, used for god-knows-what, a picture that could've very well been straight out of your fantasies.

and even though the sight of it catches you by surprise, you can't help yourself but bite your lip: this woman is gorgeous, with freckled skin and long hair in a braid.

the horse comes to a halt a couple of meters away and she swings off of its back in what has to be the most attractive thing you have ever seen.

"someone's gotten lost i see...?" she calls out from afar, arms crossed over her chest as she steps closer in big steps.

"y-yeah i- uhm-" you stutter, taken aback by just how tall she is when she stops right in front of you. "my car has sort of given up on me....i was just- i'm on the way to visit friends and, well I guess it couldn't handle the hear...or something?"

"i see..." she smirks "want me to take a look at it? i ain't no mechanic but i know a thing or two about cars"

you can't even find the words and just nod helplessly. this has to be the most attractive woman you have ever seen.

"alright," she gives a wink and walks right past you to open the hood of your car.

concern creeps through you as smoke rises up from the engine but it is quickly replaced with a tingling sensation through your whole body when she leans over and the shirt rides up her back and reveals part of her skin.

this is not the time to thirst over a stranger, you remind yourself, but your eyes are practically glued to her body and the way it moves.

after a minute or two the woman turns around and shakes her head apologetically.

"i won't be able to fix this here" she explains, voice raspy in ways that make it hard to focus on her actual words. "but i could take you down to the farm and try again?"

normally, you would not let a stranger take you to their home without anyone knowing your whereabouts. but you're desperate. and getting murdered by a handsome cowgirl seems like a much better way to go than dying of starvation or because of the heat.

so you give her a nod and she smiles, as if she'd been hoping for you to say yes.

"we're gonna have to come back for your car" she speaks. "my horse isn't enough to drag it all the way to the farm. but i'll take care of it, don't you worry"

"uh- thank you" you mutter. "i- i would really appreciate that"

"of course" she turns around and walks towards her horse, swinging herself onto its back again. "you coming sugar-?"

"oh-" you surely hadn't expected to ride to the farm she has mentioned. but you suppose there's no way around that now. and besides, you would probably do anything to hear her calling you sugar again.

you take the hand she's offering you, one foot in the stirrup as she pulls you over the animal's back. your movements are less smooth than hers have been, from the endless practice she must have with this. but she watches your body nonetheless, obviously checking you out while you swing your leg over the horse's back.

"may i ask for your name?" she asks sweetly, head turned to look at you.

"y/n" you speak with a painfully obvious shake in your voice. "y/n y/l/n"

the woman nods her head. "robin buckley" she, robin, introduces herself.

"alright y/n. just hold onto me real tight okay?"

you do as she asks, arms wrapping around her lower half. you fight back a gasp when your fingertips sense the hard muscle under her blouse.

a shaky breath falls from your lips nonetheless and you're praying that she hasn't heard it or simply blames it on the fact that the horse starts moving with a click of her tongue.

either way, she has heard something. she turns her head and gives you a grin that has you weak in the knees.

⋆

it doesn't take long until you get to the farm she has mentioned. it takes even less for you to feel a strong sense of -what?- comfort around her...

robin surely knows how to wrap a woman around her finger and you wonder if you're the first who falls for her charming way of being.

judging by the way she leans in closer, her eyes wandering down to glare at your lips while you share a bottle of something stronger than you've ever had, you assume that you're not.

she has kept her promise and got your car for you once she has dropped you off at the farm, telling you to make yourself a home while she was out.

you took the time to inspect the place, walking around the living room and looking at the pictures up on the walls.

the house she lives in is spacious and comfortable and still, it is the perfect reflection of her. wooden walls and furniture and yet everything has a modern touch to it.

it's perfect.

when you first got here, you spotted stables as well which had you wondering how many horses she owns aside from the one she was riding before.

there are many things you wish to know about her. maybe that's just the effect her voice has on you, raspy and husky from the bit of alcohol you have shared already. but either way, you are genuinely interested in finding out more about that woman.

has she been with other women before? have they sat with her the way you are right now? has she kissed them, put them up against the wall or taken them to her room?

somehow that doesn't bother you one bit, because at the end of the day, this woman has saved you, she's done plenty for you already. and yet, after she has picked you up like an idiot who got lost and took you to her house, she still seems to want you.

her strong arm finds its way around your shoulder almost naturally as she speaks about god knows what.

you don't even pay that much attention to the words but much more to the sound; the rasp and occasional crack of her voice sending heat waves down your body.

of course, you knew of your attraction to women before but this woman specifically only solidifies the attraction. or, if anything, is worsening it: just the sight of her, the way her legs are slightly spread and one hand rests on her thigh while the other lays upon your shoulder has your heartbeat picking up its pace and the wetness between your own legs growing.

"enough about me though" she concludes "tell me some more about you, sweetheart"

her lips wrap around the bottle and she takes a sip, throat moving when she swallows the liquid.

your eyes are still focused on the way her mouth looks around the bottle and you raise your voice to speak.

"well there's not that much really" you shrug and draw your legs up to your chest, sitting down sideways on her large couch.

robin watches you attentively nonetheless.

"i- i suppose there's not that much to know about me, it's not like I'm much of an..adventurer? like you are-"

robin grins and passes you the bottle.

"you're calling me an adventurer?"

"you live on a farm!" you exclaim "with horses and...and you have a lasso and- and all that cowgirl stuff. so, yes, i am"

"well I've never been called an adventurer before" she chuckles "but i do think you're interesting, y/n. and i wanna know more about you"

"you do...?" you ask, genuinely surprised.

"of course i do!" she nudges your shoulder. "come on. surprise me"

surprise me.

god, how do you surprise a woman like robin buckley, who seems to have seen it all before?

"i-" you consider the question for a second and then drop the very first things that comes to mind. "i have...never had an orgasm during sex before"

robin's brows shoot up the second these words leave your mouth, obviously surprised by the sudden turn this conversation is taking.

soon enough, her expression turns into one of utter satisfaction with what you have said, a smirk settling on her lips.

the silence that follows, aside from that amused chuckle she lets out almost immediately, seems too pressing and you know you have to do something about it.

"what?" you grin, feeling a sense of boldness around her.

robin, still chuckling for most parts, manages to reply anyway: "nothing sweetheart, it's just- it's not some sort of magic to make a pretty girl like you cum, is it?"

you shrug yet again.

"well, tell that to my ex"

her tongue moves to the inside of her cheek in thought but it has you squirming at just how good she looks like that.

"what I'm saying is" she leans forward and places the bottle of the coffee table "you deserve better than that"

your breath hitches in your throat when she leans back in and wraps a strand of your hair around her finger. robin is much closer than before and you can feel her breath on your skin, coming in warm, short puffs.

when your eyes meet hers, you can practically feel your own pupils blow.

her gaze falls upon your mouth and her tongue darts out to lick her own lips before she looks back up at you.

"why" you breathe "think you're better than they were?"

"oh" she chuckles "i know i am"

and for some reason, you already know she is. you're just dying to find out how much better.

every second that her lips aren't on yours seems to stretch out endlessly. you scoot down the couch slightly, closer to her and let your own eyes gape at her mouth shamelessly signalizing her that you do want this.

that this is more than just a little bit of flirting and playing around.

“can i kiss you?" robin rasps.

"i thought you'd never ask" you answer immediately and pull her against you by the cheeks.

the first thing that you are able to notice is the way she tastes; her lips are so much softer than you had imagined and have a hint of nature on them, though it is hard to place.

it tastes like summer, like wind and the freedom she has out here, in the best ways possible.

her arms wrap around you while she is kissing you and push you around until you're straddling her lap.

getting manhandled by a handsome woman like her sends arousal to pool between your thighs.

her mouth never leaves yours and if it does, she always makes sure it finds its way right back against yours, kissing you in a determined way.

like she wants you, you think.

with how she's grabbing at your clothing, hands roaming your sides and fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath, you're certain she actually does.

it's not long after your first kiss that you part your lips, hungry for more.

robin gets the sign, of course she does, and licks into your mouth experimentally, awaiting your reaction.

your hands come flying around her body and you hold onto her for dear life as she starts making out with you with her back still leaning against the couch.

robin's tongue still tastes like the liquor you've drank before and you want more of it, tongue sliding against hers more passionately, silently asking for her to give you that.

"god robin" you gasp eventually "please take off my clothes"

"you sure, pretty girl?"

a frustrated groan leaves your lips when you take matters into your own hands and pull your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts for her.

you haven't put on a bra this morning, wanting the carried to be as comfortable as possible. you don't regret that choice, if anything you feel even better about it now, considering how the woman beneath you is staring at you.

"oh wow" she breathes and her voice is carrying some cracks with it at the sight of you.

her hands brush over your chest, hardly applying any pressure at all but enough for you to let your head fall back.

"touch me"

that is all it takes.

her palms meet your breasts and her fingers squeeze them, still a bit too gentle for your liking nonetheless.

there is a look of awe and desire written all over her face while she's studying yours for any kind of reaction to the way she is touching you.

she toys with your nipples, holding them between her thumb and her index.

"don't-" you hiss, eyes closed and lips agape "don't be so gentle with me...show me that you want me"

"fuck" robin curses and you grin "are you sure you know what you're asking for, doll?"

you do open your eyes at that if just to emphasize your point.

you flutter your lashes at her and whisper "ruin me" against her lips.

she keeps her eyes on yours and gives your nipples a harsh tug. she is rewarded by a lewd moan and your tightening grip on her upper arms.

"i see" robin raises a brow "you really are desperate, aren't you?"

"oh shut up" you lean back down and kiss her lips .

"shut up?"

"yeah" you hate how breathless you sound already "shut up and fuck me"

"that can be arranged"

and suddenly her mouth is all over you while her palms on the little of your back keep you from squirming when her lips wander down your neck. you're sure the way she's sucking will bruise. you might just want it to.

but it's all nothing compared to the way they feel when they wrap around your nipples.

"fuck" you cry out when she licks over them before she sucks them into her mouth.

robin repeats the action a few times, making sure to leave one hard and never without the attention of her flicking fingers when she moves to the other.

"what a sweet girl you are" she mumbles, mouth full of your tits and smiling at the way you're grinding down against her thighs. "tell me what you want again"

"you know what i want"

"i know" robin hums "but i wanna hear it from you"

you roll your eyes, your brain is hazy with want for her and at this point you would do anything to feel her touch on you, to feel her inside of you.

"fuck me".

"see? good girl..." she leans back and runs a hand through your hair.

you look positively fucked out already, lips puffy and sure and nipples covered in the wetness of her saliva.

"alright" robin puts a hand on either side of your hips "let me take you to bed, yeah?"'

your legs are weak when she helps you up, shaking in anticipation when she guides you up the stairs that lead to the second floor.

both of you can't stay far from the other though, constantly stopping to kiss heatedly. for a second, a moment of weakness, really, you doubt you'll actually make it to the bedroom: robin lays you down right on the stairs and shoves a leg between your thighs, clearly eager to test how far you're willing to go right now.

you grind against her and the moans echo through the whole house.

just a moment later, you can't recall just how it happens, you're on your feet again and she is dragging you upstairs and into the room.

it's a spacious one really and her bed is large and looks all too inviting right now.

you grab her by the collar and pull her against your half-bare body and she follows you, kicking the door shut regardless of the fact that you're all alone in the house.

you understand soon enough though, when she presses you up against it and shoves her tongue past your lips again.

her hands on your hips are keeping you upright but they are probably the only thing to do so.

your gasping and whimpering turns into unhinged moaning when her lips find their way down your body again, this time without stopping at your breasts.

she sucks a trail of marks down your body until her mouth reaches the waistline of your shorts. robin is kneeling in front of you, her chin resting against your bare belly as she looks up at you.

“can i take these off?"

you bite your lip and nod; her mouth had been skillful with your nipples already and you wonder about the magic it'll do between your legs.

her fingers make quick work of the zipper and the shorts drop down your legs and pool around your ankles before you step out of them and kick them aside.

robin runs her palm up your thighs, her gaze following the way her hands are taking in amazement.

"you're so gorgeous" she finally speaks and you bite down on your index "so, so fucking gorgeous, god, i got lucky"

and with that, she starts kissing up your inner thigh, occasionally letting her tongue dart out to lick over your flesh.

"can i taste you?" she rasps when her nose is almost nudging against your panties.

instead of answering her, you hook your fingers around the hemline of the panties and push them down, leaving you entirely bare and exposed to a very much fully-clothed robin.

somehow you don't feel exposed though. you feel almost like you want to be seen by her watchful gaze.

robin smiles at you before she lets her eyes drop to your bare cunt. you can feel where your wetness is sticking to your thighs, the cold air of the room hitting the wet spots in a way that makes you shiver.

"oh god" she runs a hand through her hair to get the bits of bangs out of her face, probably a distraction to what robin is about to do.

and then, as if she has been reading your mind, she throws a leg over her shoulder and licks a long stripe all the way through you, gathering your arousal on her tongue and moving ti upwards to spread it around your clit.

you smash your head back against the door almost forcefully and cry out for her, your fingers tangling up in her hair to ground yourself.

"you taste so fucking good" robin says from between your thighs.

her mouth is right where you want it and she seems to read your body language just a little too well, reading into each and every jerk of your hips, every moan and every slightest gasp.

the second she dips her tongue into you is when you nearly lose it, the wet and velvet sensation hitting you with so much force that you could've fallen over the edge right then and there.

it takes everything within you not to.

"you like that? when i'm inside you?"

your brain can't seem to form a proper sentence and so you just nod over and over, hoping she'll get it nonetheless.

robin does.

she leans back, her chin covered in your wetness that is glistening under the light, and smirks up at you.

"don't worry precious, i'm gonna be inside you soon enough alright? just gotta help you relax first"

and by that, robin means actually making you cum.

it's strange, really, how it seems so easy with this pretty stranger you've met mere hours ago. how she seems to know your body better than you do yourself and how she actually wants to make you feel good.

soon enough, you're so close you feel it in every nerve of your body. she is lapping at your folds relentlessly, coaxing sweet moans and loud squelching noises out of your body.

you didn't even think you could ever cum on someone's mouth.

oh how wrong you were.

"robin..." you murmur, eyes rolling back in your head for her "i think...god i think- fuck"

"don't you worry, doll" she smiles and presses her tongue flat against your clit "just cum for me. you can do it. cum all over my face, come on, be a good girl"

these words are enough to push you over the edge, sending you into the best orgasm of your life.

you pull her closer against your cunt, releasing all over her mouth.

you can feel your release flowing out of yourself but robin doesn't let a single drop go to waste, licking it up until you're squirming from the overstimulation on you.

"fuck..." you finally groan after a minute of catching your breath "that was- fuck"

"i told you i could do it" robin says and gets up from the floor. you really did make a mess of her face, your cum spread on her chin and the tip of her nose.

you lean in and kiss her, tasting yourself on her.

it's obscene really, how much it turns you on to have your own wetness on her lips and tongue. how your cunt immediately clenches around nothing, longing to be filled by robin, regardless of the fact that you've cum just now.

she chuckles when you moan into her mouth.

"didn't have enough yet?"

"fuck no-" you answer, hips jearking forward to chase her touch.

"it's okay, shh" she hushes you "i got you pretty girl...remember what you said? i'm gonna make sure to ruin you"

you gasp when she grabs you with a sudden sense of roughness and makes you sit on her bed.

"now" robin whispers against your lips "be a good girl and wait for me okay?"

you nod and she smiles before she turns around and walks towards her closet. you can't help but watch her every move, delighted to see it when she starts taking off her shirt, revealing her back to you. you would ask her to turn but your voice would probably die in your throat, so you just sit there and watch her as she strips out of her clothing.

robin bends over and you bite your lips. god you're helpless.

but how could you not, when the muscles are flexing on her upper back, giving a slight hint to the power she holds, the power she could potentially have over you if she wanted you.

a power you can't wait to get your first taste of.

but these thoughts leave you when she turns around, revealing herself to you.

she is still in a plain black bra and boxer shorts but it's more than enough. your eyes wander over her and you visilby gulp.

you weren't mistaken when you felt the abs on her stomach earlier on this day and there is a thin layer of freckles all over her skin.

she is without the shadow a doubt gorgeous.

then your gaze falls upon the item she is holding out suggestively. it's one you have never gotten the chance to see from up close but you were lying if you said you hadn't fantasized about it countless times before.

"fuck" you whimper.

robin grins and shakes your head "i knew it...you want me to fuck you with my strap?"

"please"

"it's okay" she assures, fingers working on attaching the harness to her body already "don't worry sweet girl, just sit there and look pretty while i attach this one alright?"

you chuckle and nod your head.

"yeah, i can do that" you bite your lip and she looks up from where her fingers are working.

robin's fingers work with the harness with ease, strapping it all up in it's destined position until the toy sits where it is supposed to.

your mouth waters at the sight of it.

"like that?" she grins and steps closer to the edge of the bed until she is practically towering above you.

you visibly gulp when robin reaches for your chin and tilts your head so that you're staring up at her. her features shimmer golden in the light of the sun that floods through the window at the other end of the room.

you can't help but feel a little bit exposed, sitting on the bed of a woman you hardly know without any clothes on.

a soft blush creeps up your chest and her eyes catch it immediately.

"what is it? are you okay? you know we can always stop, right?"

"no!" you exclaim, your voice far to desperate for your own liking. "i- I mean- uh- no. just a little...self conscious, i suppose"

a smile softens her features and she turns her head to the side in thought, her fingers still holding onto your chin.

"it's okay, we can take things slow if that's what you need...?"

you think about this for a second but ultimately end up shaking your head. there's something about being in this vulnerable position beneath her that does things to you. something you haven't known yet but definitely also something you would like to know more about.

"I don't need slow"

"oh?" robin smiles as if that's exactly what she'd expected. "well in that case..."

she reaches around herself, to where her bedside table is, and grabs another hat, similar to the one she wore before: a white, big one that falls over your eyes when she puts it on you.

"here" robin rasps "like this you'll feel less...naked"

you chuckle when it covers your eyes, against all odds of this situation, but robin joins you in the laughter and softly pushes it further back.

"now" she finally speaks, a look of adoration in her eyes. for someone you have just met today, you really want to get to know her better. you don't want this to end once your car is fixed. somehow, as strange as it might be, you wish to be here for longer. who knows, maybe you'll purposefully hide some of her tools when she tries to fix your car?

"be a good girl and help me get this ready for your pretty pussy okay?"

the words catch you off guard and have you visibly gasping.

when you finally gain your composure back and nod for her, robin steps into your space and reaches around your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair to pull you close.

"open up, pretty girl" she taps the tip of her strap against your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.

you've never done this before, not for anyone really. you've never thought you would ever want it this much.

eager to obey, you part your lips for her. robin uses the hold she has on the back of your head to pull you down against her until your lips are nearly touching the base of the toy, your mouth taking it all the way.

you moan around it at the new sensation and robin rewards you by running a hand through your hair.

"you take it so well" she whispers and looks down at you in amazement, watching the toy disappear in your mouth with each thrust of your hips.

at one particular deep thrust, you can't help yourself but gag around the silicone cock.

the noise mixes with a strange sound of pleasure and it's clear that you're enjoying yourself like this.

"fuck" she groans and her lashes flutter. "just like that, get it all wet for that cunt of yours...just like that"

you can feel yourself drooling but robin makes sure to wipe it from your chin.

she pulls out of your mouth eventually, eager to finally fuck you. a string of your saliva is connecting your lip to the toy and it's glistening with your spit on it.

"look at that" robin whispers proudly and strokes through your hair "i'm not even gonna need any lube. you got it all wet for me"

you nod your head eagerly, unable to form a proper sentence at this point.

"i think you've earned it, haven't you? sucked on my strap so good, you deserve to be fucked with it now"

she walks around the bed until she can crawl on it behind you. robin sits down with her back against the many pillows and spreads her legs slightly.

you turn your head and shiver at the sight.

"fuck"

"come here" she smiles and taps her thigh "come here and ride me"

you don't have to be told twice, immediately scrambling up on the bed to face her.

you’ve already forgotten about her hat that is still on you.

when you do so, ready for her to ruin you, robin gently shakes her head.

"not like this" she says and puts a hand on each of your shoulders "turn around for me".

robin gives you a slight shove but it is enough for you to understand. so she really wants you to ride her filthy.

god this woman is going to be the death of you.

you do as you're told, turning around so that your back is facing robin’s front.

the woman runs her fingers down your spine until they can firmly rest on your hips, just above the sell of your ass.

“robin” you whine pleading “please!”

“you want something huh?” she rasps from behind you and you can feel her leaning in until her lips are lingering by your ear. you also feel the strap attached to her body, its bulge pressing against you firmly.

“then be a good girl and take it”

you take this an invitation to reach out, taking the spit soaked strap in your hand and lining it up with your dripping entrance.

“hmh” robin hums, pleased with what you’re doing. “just like that”.

slowly, you lower yourself onto the toy. robin’s deep, shaky inhale sends a soft blush of pride upon your cheeks.

you don’t have much time to focus on that, her strap now buried deep inside your aching cunt. you take each and every inch greedily and it is sucked in with ease.

until finally, you feel robin’s thighs on your skin and the base of the strap pressing against your entrance.

“how is this sugar?” she hums, her nails scratching over your skin slightly.

“so good” you exhale, adjusting to the fullness.

“i know” robin murmurs, followed by sweet praise and slow, sensual strokes over her fingers up and down your sides.

“robin!” you exclaim when the woman behind you suddenly jerks her hip forward, causing the strap to press up against your inner walls just right.

your hands reach out, desperately trying to find something to hold onto.

they rest on robin’s legs in front of you.

“you take it so well” robin whispers softly “i’m gonna make you feel so fucking good you hear me?”

her hand lands on your ass slightly more forcefully than before, a small smacking noise echoing through the room.

your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth falls open as a moan you can’t hold back falls from it.

“oh you like that?”

“hmh” you nod your head, far too desperate to feel embarrassed about the confession.

robin doesn’t mind though, she just chuckles before her palm meets your ass again, harder this time.

“fuck-“ you cry out and your head falls forward against your chest “fuck me please”.

you slam yourself back against her at the same time as you speak, leaning forward until only the tip is still inside and then taking it all the way into you again.

you never knew it would feel this good to be fucking yourself on a pretty woman’s strap.

her hands ghost over your back again, dancing up your ribcage and eventually finding their way to your waist. that is where they stay as she pulls you back against herself, supporting you with each thrust.

“oh my god” you moan “y-yes! yes fuck- harder!”

robin chuckles from behind “you want it bad yeah?”

your head is spinning with pleasure, your previous orgasm still rushing through you while the next one is already approaching. it’s coiling in your lower body, ready to snap if you just get a little more.

“robin” you babble “fuck me harder robin please, god, please”

one of her hands is placed upon your ass while the other is dragging you back against her over and over again, helping you through the thrusts.

“oh my-“

you grip her legs harder, your nails digging half moon shapes into her freckled skin.

the strap hits all the right spots inside of you and your clenching around it only sucks it further in with each time she pumps it into you.

“so close” you whisper finally “so fucking close robin can i- please let me touch myself fuck”

“do it y/n…fuck you look so fucking pretty when you ride me like that” robin pants. she sounds breathless, proving that your actions are affecting her just as much.

you just groan and push yourself against her again before you use one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit all while you’re bouncing on top of her.

the headboard of the bed is banging against the wall, causing a noise that can be heard through the entire house.

the whole bed is creaking underneath your bodies, that’s how forcefully you’re throwing yourself back against her.

it only takes a few more clockwise circles of your index against your clit and deep thrusts into your cunt to send you over the edge.

you choke out a lewd scream when your orgasm hits you.

your head drops forward, causing the hat to drop into your face again as you feel yourself gushing around the toy that’s fucking you through your release.

you hardly notice when robin mumbles “holy shit” as you make a mess of the strap, her sheets and her lower half even.

“fuck fuck fuck” you mutter, over and over again. your body is shaking and your breathing is heavy and labored.

you can’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed for what you’ve done. either way robin doesn’t seem to mind, judging by the way she’s glaring at it in amazement when you turn your head.

you chuckle breathlessly and lift your hips just enough for her to pull out of you.

your arousal sticks against your thighs when you close them and turn around to lay on top of her.

“come here sweetheart” she whispers approvingly. “fuck you did so good for me”

robin wraps her arms around your sweat stained body and takes the hat off of you to wipe your hair out of your face.

“so good” she repeats and places a kiss to your forehead.

“do you need something? a water? anything?”

you smile at how considerate she’s with you but shake your head.

“just- can we stay like that? for a bit? please?”

now it’s robin’s turn to chuckle.

“of course we can. it’s okay, you can rest alright?”

and, oh you will, but by now you’re certain you want more than that. you want to stay. screw your plans, because you can’t leave robin behind just yet.

your plan comes back to your mind; stealing her tools so she can never fix up your car, not until you want her to.

maybe you’ll do that. or maybe you’ll just ask her if you can.

maybe you will know once you have rested like robin has suggested.

her arms sure are comfortable and your body is exhausted…

before you even know it, you’re fast asleep in the arms of robin buckley.

[ineffable-endearments]

Crowley and His Plants in Season 2

I've got this complicated post about Aziraphale and the bookshop brewing, but I want to give Crowley and his plants their own post.

It's really important that Crowley hung onto his plants for juicy characterization and symbolic and thematic reasons. It's a major character development portrayed with relative subtlety, an excellent example of Showing, Not Telling, and I think it's a thrilling sign for Crowley's character development.

Before having a chance to think about it, I thought keeping the plants in his car was a funny and odd - but sweet - detail to include. In fact, it was so sweet that it was one of those "felt like fanfic" things!

In Season 1, and in the novel, the plants were very much there for trauma reenactment, for Crowley to vent his hurt and fear and anger and betrayal onto. In a sense, they seemed to be Crowley's way of roleplaying with himself, if we assume they were only sentient because Crowley thought of them that way. Through the dynamic of yelling at his plants, which he assumed could understand him, Crowley could emotionally act out both the terrified, powerless plant (subconsciously) and the big scary entity threatening it with destruction (consciously).

If we take everything at face value, we can also guess that Crowley disposed of plants that he no longer liked because of their imperfections, which would seem to imply he didn't have much of an attachment to them. Where they went doesn't matter that much to this particular line of theorizing. He could have given them to his elderly neighbor, he could have plunked them in a community garden, he could have left them on a doorstep, he could have shredded them in the garbage disposal. In any case, they were gone from his kingdom.

And after Season 1, I wondered if he would care to keep the plants if he wasn't using them to act out trauma anymore.

But in Season 2, the plants are in fact the ONLY thing from the flat that Crowley has hung onto as he moved into his car. Sure, it's possible that he has other possessions squirreled away somewhere and he just carries the plants around because they need sunlight, but most of the other possessions go unmentioned, so we have to guess that the plants are specifically important. They're also important enough to follow him into the bookshop and back to the car instead of just staying in the car for the trip to Edinburgh.

We also don't see a single instance of Crowley berating the plants in Season 2, but they do still express his emotions somewhat (shaking when he's afraid). He still has whatever subconscious connection to them he was experiencing before. Notably, there's at least one scene where a brown spot is visible on a plant, so whatever Crowley's doing, he's not getting rid of the plants like he used to.

This seems like an obvious example of Crowley's attachment to Earth condensed into a handy symbol. Crowley has started to admit to himself that he cares about these helpless living things, that he just likes them for their own sake. They're not a sign of a job well done for Hell. They're not a memory of Aziraphale. They're not a tool to make life easier or numb the pain. They're just Life On Earth and Crowley likes to have them.

Crowley has gone from using his plants as a tool for trauma reenactment to holding onto his plants because he has a genuine attachment to them. And, for a character whose arc I believe is going to involve forming more outward connections to others, that's a big deal.

Crowley's still got a ways to go. He's carrying these plants around, but the Bentley can't be an ideal environment for them. The whole process of driving them around, not to mention bringing them in and out of the bookshop, has to be kind of awkward for Crowley, too. It's very reminiscent of a character whose attachment to Earth is ambivalent, but who is moving in the right direction.

I wonder what'll happen next. His progress could be relatively linear, wherein he just goes off and forms more connections to humans on Earth after Aziraphale goes back to Heaven.

My suspicion, though, is that he will return to Hell with the specific goal in mind of thwarting the Second Coming and possibly trying to bring the entire system crashing down. In this way, Crowley experiences a massive setback in his position (he wants to be on Earth, not in Hell!) but is actually demonstrating a redoubled dedication to Earth and humans, so what he's doing is not backsliding. Compare it to Season 1, when Crowley is charged with delivering the Antichrist and complains, as late as the Antichrist's 11th birthday, that he didn't want to be involved, that Hell shouldn't have chosen him - when Hell choosing Crowley was the only reason he was ever in a position to try to thwart Armageddon.

But that's a lot of speculation. The point is, the plants are a meaningful connection to Earth and Crowley is taking care of them.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 21

And suddenly, the tables have turned.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst in this one 😔

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Callob with @euphoricfilter!

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♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Bowser was incredibly happy to see the both of you, and Jungkook cant say he didn’t enjoy it as well.

Now, back in the car, it’s quiet- bags packed and stored in the trunk, tickets ready to have you both board the plane back home. He’s silent because he feels disappointed- mostly with himself. He didn’t end up asking you at all, never got himself to do it, and so he’s bringing back the ring- just not on your finger, like he hoped it would be the case.

What’s he supposed to do now?

The magic is gone, it’s nothing special anymore, and once you’re back home, you’ll both just get back to work and go about your days like nothing happened. All his work, all this stress was for nothing- just because he’s a stupid scatterbrained coward that can’t just ask his girlfriend to marry him.

Do you even want to marry him?

He’s never actually asked himself that question, now that he thinks about it as he takes the bags out the trunk to return the rental car, and take a cab to the nearby airport. He’s never really brought up the topic, it just felt like it was the right thing to do after this amount of time with you. You’re his final destination, there’s no other person he’d rather grow old with, so tying you both together legally was just a thing he felt was right.

But do you see him as such as well?

“Kook?” You ask, snatching him out of his thoughts. “I asked you if we wanted to eat something before we board.” You wonder. “We still have an hour and a half..” You wonder, looking around to check the variety of foods and snacks to get. But Jungkook just shrugs.

He doesn’t feel hungry.

“You can get something, I’m not hungry.”

This is the first major red flag for you that something isn’t right. You have an idea, but you’re also not really sure about it- and also, you don’t want to mention it, especially not in public like this. It’s a delicate situation, because you know that Jungkook doesn’t like talking about things that involve his emotions in such open spaces like now- because he’s soft at heart, and tends to become very riled up about things. So you want to give him some space right now instead- until you’re back home, and in the comfort of your safe privacy.

The flight is awkward.

You try and make some smalltalk- but it’s very one-sided, and it’s obvious he’s not in the mood to talk, so you leave it at that- instead stretching your limbs in his car that wraps you up in a familiar scent of sweetness, fabric spray and cold winter. Jungkook is still upset, quietly starting the car, which needs two attempts because it’s just a little too cold for the rather old engine. But it still starts up, purrs to life and instantly chimes up with the notice that his windshield washer fluid is low- something he constantly forgets to refill.

“We could stop by the gas station on our way home.” You say, pointing to the symbol glowing. “Before you forget-”

“I won’t forget, god damnit.” He growls, roughly putting in the gear before he starts driving.

“Okay, what’s wrong.” You ask him, unable to stand the silence any longer. “You’ve been upset ever since we came back from meeting up with Bowser.” You say, trying to be as gentle as you can be. “Is it because we had to leave him behind?” You worry, but he sighs.

“No, it’s not about that.” He whines, waiting at a red light. “Just.. Doesn't matter.” He just says, mostly to himself.

“Oh, is it about the propos...-” You start, his head snapping towards you with wide open eyes, all round and just as surprised as you are shocked.

Fuck.

Honking cars behind you both make him snap out of it, as he angrily drives to park his car in a gast station where he’s out of the way and off the road, before he turns to you. “You knew?!” He barks at you, completely short-circuiting now. You knew apparently what he was up to, what he was failing at, and you never told him, rather watched him struggle the entire time. “Since when.” He asks.

“I just-”

“Since when did you know?” He cuts you off, eyes glossy as he gets emotional again. He’s so embarrassed, feels like he’s stripped naked, like you’ve been watching him like some circus animal.

“..I found it in your bag, when we were using the pool.” You mumble. “I.. Just thought it was weird to keep your smartwatch in a velvet box, and I was wondering if you charged it. And when I opened it I saw it, and you know.. Connected the dots.” You shrug, feeling incredibly small under his strong gaze.

“And you thought ‘oh lets watch the stupid idiot struggle’ just for fun, huh?” He claims, crossing his arms.

“No!” You whine. “I just- I thought I’d help you by giving it to you? But you panicked and I don’t know..” You try and explain yourself. “I wanted to let you do it on your own. Because you’d get upset if I had told you I found out..” You say, but he just shakes his head, and starts the car again, quietly.

You feel terrible.

Even back home, as you both bring your bags up and back into your apartment, he refuses to properly talk to you- visibly upset at the whole situation, and you don’t know how to fix it. You can understand why he’d be upset, but what else were you supposed to do? Just tell him you found it and ruin his chances at getting it right? You couldn’t have known that he’d mess up every other chance.

So instead of coming back home as a freshly engaged couple, the velvet box is thrown openly on his office table, left alone just like you are, even though he sleeps right next to you.

Turned away, his back all he offers you.

[redladydeath]

Okay, so last night I decided I wanted to do something with Vox and body horror and this story concept ended up manifesting in my brain. Massive CW for psychosis that's not actually psychosis, as well as self-harm and body horror.

Vox and Alastor meet in the 1940s while they're both doing electrical engineering work for the war effort. Vox is only 22, so he falls fast and hard for Alastor, who decides to use the younger man's infatuation with him to his advantage. One night while they're out drinking, Alastor convinces Vox to make a blood oath with him. He tells him it's just symbolic, but in reality, there's magic involved; if Alastor kills him, he'll get all the years Vox was supposed to live added to his own lifespan, which is dwindling. He lures Vox into the woods and tries to murder him, but is shot by a hunter who happens upon the struggle. Vox nearly loses an eye, but survives the encounter and is able to go on with his life, albeit with some pretty intense trauma.

Twenty years later, it's the 1960s. Vox has been a successful television presenter for 10~15 years now. He's rich and is married with children, but is less than an ideal husband/father. When he's not at work, he's usually with Valentino, a young male prostitute who he's been having a secret affair with for the past year or two. The two of them are currently somewhere between a sugar daddy/baby arrangement and a legit relationship. Vox is overall pretty content with his life and hasn't thought about Alastor in years. That is, until things start to change.

At first, it just seems like a bad cold; his joints are stiff and he has the chills constantly, but that's nothing too unusual, and he continues going about his daily life. But then the delusions start. Vox begins hearing things whenever a radio is on– words and phrases that shouldn't be coming out of it, said in a familiar tone of voice. He starts seeing shadows moving just out of the corner of his eye, but when he turns to look at them, they're gone. When Vox looks in the mirror or watches clips from his show, there's something different– uncanny– about his own eyes that makes him feel like he's looking at a stranger. It must be stress, he thinks; he's been working himself too hard.

But things only get worse. Vox's body is stiff and jerky and cold– suddenly very cold to the touch, although no one other than Vox can feel it. Food and drink and cigarettes lose their taste. His emotions feel muted– all except fear. He starts hearing this loud, irritating humming when he's in the studio which makes it hard for him to work. People are starting to get worried. He's acting erratically, asking if they can hear or feel things that simply aren't there. His wife thinks he's building towards a nervous breakdown, but Vox knows that's not true. Something's happening to him, something no one can perceive but him.

Things continue to deteriorate. Vox thinks he can hear metal creaking when he moves. His face won't show up on camera anymore; the footage always ends up damaged for reasons no one can explain. He smashes the family radio in front of his kids when he clearly hears Alastor's voice coming out of it, taunting him. He asks Valentino, who hasn't even been to church in the past decade, to connect him with his childhood priest because he thinks he's being possessed and wants an exorcism. If the Protestant God won’t help him, maybe the Catholic one will. It still doesn't work.

Things come to a head one night when Vox, desperate to prove to himself and everyone else that he's not crazy, takes a knife and cuts deep into the hand he used to make the pact with Alastor all those years ago. He cuts and cuts and cuts until finally– finally– he sees it: metal and wires and no blood. He was right. He tries to show his wife but only succeeds in scaring her out of her wits. He flees the house and takes the family car. He needs to go see Valentino, show him, ask him for help. He crashes the car into a lamppost while trying to drive with one hand. A cashier working late in a nearby electronics store tries to help him, bringing him into the shop to wait while he calls an ambulance.

When the cashier leaves him alone to go make the call, Vox hears it again. He hears Alastor's voice coming out of a radio, telling him that his time is up. He's been living on borrowed (or rather, stolen) time for the past ten years and now it's time to come join him, down where they both belong. Vox can feel his "bones" cracking, his skin stretching and tearing. He can't hear anything except Alastor's voice alongside the blaring static emitting from all the TVs and radios in the store. He's dying he's dying he's dying– until he stumbles into a fusebox and the whole store is engulfed in an electrical fire.

When the firemen dig through the rubble, they never find a human body.

[robin-hood-for-freedom]

One thing Karl Marx was kind of right about was the idea of 'conspicuous consumption' but it also, quite ironically disproves a fundamental portion of his theories:

Its true that some goods, mostly luxury goods, are purchased not so much for their utility per se, but as a status symbol. That is to say, you dont buy a lamborghini because its THAT much better than other, cheaper makes of cars. You buy one so you can tell other people 'I drive a lamborghini and have a shit-ton of money'

Marx would have you believe this is the product of modern capitalism, but its really not. In pretty much every society, the elites engage in extravagant wasteful spending as a display of wealth and power: Roman Senators would throw lavish feasts where they'd serve things like sparrow tongue pie and crush up pearls to dissolve in their wine. Egyptian pharaohs built pyramid tombs in part as way to show off 'I have so much wealth and power, I can build this MASSIVE structure I wont even use till I'm dead.'

But perhaps more importantly, it shows that the labor theory of value his economics was built on is all wrong. To go back to the lamborghinis, they arent that expensive because of the raw materials that make them up, or even because of the labor workers put into them. They cost that much because of the perceived status that owning one grants people who buy them. That is to say the value they have is largely subjective.

If lamborghinis were common enough that everybody could own one, or if for some reason people stopped seeing fancy sports cars as a mark of status, their price would drop considerably. We can actually see this happening with certain goods. I'm old enough to remember that in the 90s if you owned a large tv, especially a flat screen, it meant you were 'rich.' People would brag about both the size of their tvs and how much they cost(which could go upwards of $2000 in 90's dollars) Nowadays tvs are dirt cheap, and nobody really brags about having a 60 in anymore, because, well pretty much everyone does, it doesnt make you special.

[whatgoesthroughmyhead]

Spoiler warning! A significant component to the ending of Adolescence of Utena is discussed here. If I were you I'd only read this after watching the show and the movie.

Okay, I need to talk about the Utena car, because I'm a huge car nerd, and its design is SO STRANGE. (I'll be talking about the car's first iteration, because it's the most developed and interesting version.)

[more pics of the car here]

To start, let's look at the recognizable/evocative shapes that are incorporated into the design. I see a high-heeled shoe as the central shape, and then the obvious horse head shapes over the front wheels. If the core shape is indeed meant to call to mind a high-heeled shoe, I take that as being symbolic of Anthy's feminine elegance, with a touch of "don't fuck with me" aggression in that sharply-pointed "toe." It makes sense that the cockpit area is designed more for Anthy, since she's the driver (and the only one with a key). Also that aggressively pointed tip suits Anthy because she is very much associated with swords, and she's become an empowered badass who's not interested in taking shit from anyone anymore. Also worth noting: in episode three of the show, we see Anthy & Utena's first dance, and Anthy is wearing high heels, so there's definitely precedent for this shoe imagery. And that first dance is significant; it's their first time joyously holding each other!

As for the horse heads, I take them as representing the regal/princely nature that Utena has aspired to for so long, as well as the raw, natural force of will that Utena has in spades (especially for her girl Anthy). Also, horses are transportation with heart. Horses get you around while also being sensitive, feeling creatures. Utena has big, deep feelings and care for Anthy, so this fits well. And one more point before moving on: trust and "oneness" between horse and rider are totally a thing, and these are themes that easily fit here.

Okay now to get into what's really interesting (to me), particularly because it's such a subtle and unexpected detail. The Utena car is front-wheel drive, not rear-wheel drive like the majority of performance-oriented cars are. This was a deliberate design choice. If you look closely you can see there are driveshafts attached to the front wheels, but not the rears. That means the power of the engine (Utena's heart) is directed ahead and pulls the car forward from the front, rather than pushing it from the rear. I have no doubt this is significant. Both Anthy and Utena are motivated by a "pull" towards a better future. Their hope is pulling them forward. Their motivation is not a fear-based push from behind, as awful—and arguably frightening—as the shit behind them may be.

Something else to note is: front-wheel drive cars tend to be more stable and easy/intuitive to handle than rear-wheel drive cars, especially for beginner drivers. If Utena had any deciding influence in what kind of car to become, it makes sense that she would choose a layout that would increase Anthy's chances of staying on course and achieving the desired outcome. And Utena & Anthy are still new to their relationship. An easy-to-handle, beginner-friendly automobile is a great choice in this instance, especially considering all the hardship Anthy has endured. Utena would want Anthy to have the easiest time possible with this dash to a new and unknown future.

Finally I want to highlight how the overall design of the car is strongly forward-oriented. The vast majority of what's going on—both in terms of design and engineering—is at the front end of this car. The tail end almost feels like an afterthought in comparison. As I see it, this emphasizes that Anthy & Utena are focused on what's ahead of them, and only minding what's behind them as far as is necessary, and no more than that.

The design of this car is inherently hopeful.

That's my take. Thanks for reading!

P.S. - I've just realized that if ya squint, the Utena car looks kinda like a naked man laying back, with his pointy dingus hanging out for all to see. So maybe there's some trans masculine imagery here too; I don't know. It would certainly fit with Utena's tomboyishness, and the big-long-dong second iteration of the car. Anyway I'll leave it at that for now lol.