#it hits a lot different when you’re 9 years old.

[scottpilgrim4everr]

I rewatched the Scott Pilgrim movie last night after work and it definitely is a movie that exists.

#no shade to the movie tho. it’s good. it’s a pretty good adaptation of the comics and the editing is still fantastic. #hate that they sucked a lot of the fruit out. #they’re all fucking fruity. not just Wallace #it’s just one of those things that was a lot better when I was younger. #it hits a lot different when you’re 9 years old. #THE BIT WITH ROXY HAD ME RAISING AN EYEBROW. TF YOU MEAN IT WAS JUST A PHASE??? #GIRL YOU ARE A TEXTBOOK BISEXUAL DONT YOU TRY AND DENY IT. #and they casually drop an r-slur. I literally sat there like 😐 #I could talk about the things that didn’t age well for hours #it was a different time #this is PEAK it was a different time #there were a lot of really funny lines I still quote today. bread makes you fat is one of my favorite vocal stims. xd #autism #scott pilgrim vs the world #spvtw #scott pilgrim #girl thoughts #thoughts #movie thoughts #its a lot funnier when you look at it like Young Neil wrote/directed it.

[hysteria-things]

can u do a story of like chris sturnolio being a dad ??

UNEXPECTED TURNS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at first, you were devastated to find out that you were pregnant at this age. now, realization hits and turns out it’s not so bad for not only you; but chris too.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFFY, angst in the beginning, flashbacks, panic attack

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 760

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST LIKE THIS I FIND THESE SO CUTE!

was gonna save this for another day but i’m too impatient LMAO

i’m trying to get through my inbox so there should be lots to come! hope you like it anon :)

*flashback*

‘pregnant’

you read the word at least ten times on the test in your violently shaking hand.

a sob leaves your throat as you tremble. “no.” you choke out.

you try your best to grab your phone and text chris, your boyfriend. you need him here, and you need him here now.

“y/n?” his voice echoes through the house. you steadied your breathing, but you’re still a trembling and crying mess on the bathroom floor.

you hear footsteps coming up the steps. “y/n?” he calls out again.

he runs over to the bathroom door and opens it. the panic shoots through your body again when you see him, and you breathe heavily. “i’m sorry.” you say between sobs.

chris worries all over his face. he kneels to you to take your shaky hands in his. “sorry about what? oh my god, what happened?”

you point to the counter where the test is. he knits his eyebrows together and grabs it off the countertop. he scans over it for a few beats before looking into your crying eyes.

he sets the test down, taking his thumbs and trying his best to rub as many tears away. “i’m sorry.” you repeat.

he brings your head into his chest and tries to shush you. “you have nothing to be sorry about.”

he rubs up and down your body in a soothing motion, whispering in your ear. he rocks you from side to side.

his chin is resting on top of your head. “i’m with you on whatever decision you make. you know that right?” he tells you, kissing your head.

you nod. your ear is on his heartbeat, which is strangely calm. you close your eyes to focus on the rhythm, your breathing steadying along with it.

*9 months later*

tears of joy leave your eyes when the doctor carefully places your daughter in your arms. chris held onto your hand tight the whole birth. he rests his forehead on yours and kisses your nose, then the top of your little girl’s head.

“thank you for giving her to me.” you smile at chris.

“are you kidding? you’re the one that went through hell for nine months.” you and him both chuckle. “you’re a warrior, y/n. don’t ever forget that.”

holding your child for the first time is a different type of love. you never want to let them go.

despite both of you being 20, you know you guys can be the best parents to your baby girl.

*now*

chris sighs when he hears your one-year-old in the pack-and-play he set up in the living room. she’s been crying nonstop.

he gets up from the couch and walks over, leaning to get a better view of her. “what is it, little miss?” he says, reaching into the pack-and-play to pick her up.

she stops her crying to look at her father for a split second, but then goes back to the tantrum. “ma-ma.” she cries.

“your mama is taking a nap. she needs to rest.”

that only makes sadie cry harder, and chris tuts. “let’s take a look outside.”

you guys bought a house during your pregnancy, still close to his and your family. it came with a beautiful backyard.

ever since sadie was born, she has been so fascinated by looking outside. it always worked to calm down her little outbursts.

chris turns so his back is facing the glass door. her head rests on his shoulder as she looks at the summer greenery and flowers. her crying immediately stops, and now she’s doing rapid sniffles.

he rubs her back in a soothing circular motion and rocks from side to side. “i don’t like when you’re this upset, little miss. everything’s okay, i promise.”

her cheek rests on his shoulder, her breathing going back to normal.

when it seems to be a little too quiet, he peeks to look at her face, seeing sadie holding on tight to his arm and sleeping peacefully.

he rolls his eyes but smiles. “so dramatic.” he mumbles. “i wonder who you get it from.”

chris walks the sleeping infant into her nursery to set her down in the crib. before doing so, he kissed her on the cheek.

he stays there to admire what’s in front of him. she most definitely has your face and hair, but she has his blue eyes.

this was not a part of the plan in your relationship; at least not this soon. however, you guys wouldn’t want it any other way.

and that’s the beauty of unexpected turns.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

[marvelous-slut]

Rats - Chibs Telford x Reader

not many warnings on this one, just mentions of guns i think? xx

You feel your body tense up as you hear the motorcycle pull up to your driveway. The gun in your hand is cold, but you have a tight grip on it. You have your mothers crucifix in the other hand, holding onto it just as tight as you pray silently. Tears fall from your eyes as you stand up to face the door way. The engine turns off and your body goes cold, holding the gun out to the door. Prepared to kill whoever it is that has been sent to kill you.

It was always said Piney, Clay and Bobby had spent many days in the club house carrying you around. They held you, fed you, changed you. Bobby was the most attached to you out of the three men, once you got old enough he’d make sure he had things to keep you occupied. He didn’t want you thinking of your father Otto being locked up and at this time as far as you were concerned your mother had a 9-5, but everyone knew she was filming her movies to try to help with the expenses that came with a baby.

Jax and Opie had been your right hand men for years. The two of you had did everything together. Riding bikes together and imitating all of your fathers, running around Teller-Morrow together. Once the three of you hit high school, your trip was inseparable. Lots of parents didn’t want their kids hanging around “biker thugs” kids.

Tig was like the creepy uncle, sure you didn’t like to sit alone with him but he sure did know how to make someone laugh when they were down. Juice, while quiet he thought highly of you. You were always willing to help him out, and he did the same for you. Any time he over heard you talk about going on dates, he was looking up information on the guy to make sure he wouldn’t cause any problems. Happy was different, he usually said nothing when you were around. You couldn’t help but like him because when he did say something, it was always a great comeback or eagerness to help the club.

Chibs Telford, he was the man who occupied your mind day in and day out. The one who looked out for you most in the club besides Bobby. You didn’t know what it was or why he did the things he did for you, but they always made you feel like a high school girl again with a crush. Anytime at the SAMCRO parties when you’d have a little too much to drink, he’d make sure you made it to his bed safe and sound, untouched. He’d let you sleep there alone until the morning when you felt better. He always had coffee made for you two to share. Maybe it was the fact he had a daughter he couldn’t take care of as you were younger than him, but it made you feel a way about him that you’d never felt about anyone else.

One of these men would kill you tonight and you were sure of it. You hoped it would be Happy, convinced it would be him. He would kill at the drop of a hat, plus you were close to him. Bobby would never be able to pull the trigger he was too close. No one else made sense. Your father had ratted on the club and tonight they’d seek revenge on his child as his wife was buried 6 feet under ground. As much as you loved these men dearly, considered them family you also knew what they were capable of if it hurt the club. The engine turns off and you hear a knock at the door. You set the crucifix down, holding on to the gun with both hands. Your heart falls when you see Chibs standing at your door, of course. They’d sent him to end your life. As he sees you with the gun pointed at him, he throws his hands up in the air.

“Jesus Christ! Lass, put that thing away!” You continue holding the gun, pointing it directly at his head. You feel yourself shaking, unsure if it was fear or shock. Maybe even both. Tears spill over as you realize the man you’d been in love with would kill you, or you’d kill him.

“No. I know dad ratted. I know what you’re here for!” You scream, shoving the gun closer to him. He grabs it and jerks it down. He takes the gun, emptying the bullets. You fall to the floor, tears falling down your face. “I don’t want to die.”

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?” He asks, shoving the weapon into the waist band of his pants. He squats down, pushing hair out of your face. “Who’s going to kill ya?”

“Apparently you! The club has to send a message to dad about him flipping, my moms dead. He has nothing else to loose besides me.” You say, Chibs feels his heart ache at the sight of your tears and fear. He grabs your face, making you look him in the eyes.

“Love, no one’s killing anyone. Jackie boy wanted me to come by and make sure you were okay. Reassure you the club still has your back, we know this ain’t your fault. What your father has done doesn’t outweigh the trust we have in you.” The words make a weight lift off your chest. You wipe the remaining tears away and laugh. Chibs remains a little distraught that you thought he would be coming to kill you.

“They wouldn’t send me anyways, probably send Happy.” He says, chuckling as he does. “Jax says we have some kinda fucked up bond.” You think back to the times Jax had told you at the club house you had daddy issues after he’d saw you and Chibs together.

“That bastard.” You say, sighing afterwards. Chibs has a confused look on his face.

“Do we have some kinda fucked up thing?” He asks. You grab his hands, running your fingers over them.

“Maybe we do. But I like it.” You say, he smiles, pulling you into his chest. Your face lays on his kutte as he runs a hand through your hair. “Would you please stay tonight?” You whisper.

“I’d love to.”

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #chibs x you #chibs imagine #chibs sons of anarchy

[the-guilty-writer]

Can't Lose Her Too

Request from anon: Hotch x daughter reader when her depression is really bad  and she barely eats and sleeps all the time and doesnt want to see anyone or do anything??

Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Summary: When your depression hits, your father’s ghosts come back to him.

A/N: Did I intend for this to be Taylor Swift related? No. Did it happen that way? Yes. Yes it did.

CW: reader has depression, mentions of reduced food intake, mentions of Haley and Foyet, lots of sad Hotch

---

When my depression works the graveyard shift All of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room - Taylor Swift, Anti-Hero

---

Aaron got home early for once- around 7 o’clock instead of the usual 9 to midnight. In addition to that, it was a Friday and Strauss had a different team on call that weekend, which meant no interruptions, no emergency cases, and more time with his kids.

He unlocked the door, stepped into the house, and was immediately greeted by Jack’s arms around his legs, throwing his balance for a second.

“Hey, buddy.” He smiled and ruffled his son’s hair.

“Hi, daddy.” Jack beamed up at him, his small arms still wrapped around his father’s legs. Aaron put down his briefcase by the door and picked the boy up- Jack was already 5 years old, but Aaron would carry him as long as he could, not wanting to miss more of his son's childhood than he already had.

“You’re home early,” Jessica said as she walked into the living area from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he told her. “The team got lucky and we didn’t have as much work this week so I let everyone go home.” He put Jack down and the young boy ran off to resume playing with his toys.

“Well, everyone’s homework for the weekend is done. Jack already ate dinner and there’s some leftover in the fridge for you and (Y/N),” Jessica said.

Hotch furrowed his brow. “Still?”

Jessica sighed and looked down. “Still.”

When Haley died, one of the first things Aaron did was put you and Jack in counseling- better to do damage control now than to face the consequences years later- but it seemed, to no one's fault, that you were going to need more than that. The event with Foyet had left you traumatized, but you’d worked through it well. Even the loss of your mother wasn’t the cause of the lows you experienced.

Aaron knew better than anybody else that there were things about the brain that were unexplainable in origin and uncontrollable to the being it belonged to; he only wished you hadn’t been an unlucky victim of the chemical warfare of the mind. You’d already been a victim of too much already.

“Thanks again for watching them,” he said.

Jessica shook her head. “We’re family. It’s what we do.” She said goodbye to Jack and grabbed her coat before heading out the door.

“Daddy!” Jack called. “Can you come play?”

“A little later, buddy.” Aaron had made his way to the kitchen, heating up leftover dinner for you and himself. “I’m going to check on your sister.”

“Can I come too?” Jack asked.

Hotch hesitated. You were prone to irritability, especially when your depression became exceptionally overwhelming. Of course, you’d never purposefully say anything mean to your brother, but it was better that the only people in your room- your personal space- were you and the adults you trusted.

“Well,” he said, “it's almost your bedtime. So why don’t you get ready for bed and after I talk to (Y/N) we can read a story.”

“Even a comic book?”

“Even a comic book.”

Jack dashed upstairs without another word. Aaron plated the food for you and him, carefully carrying it up the stairs and knocking on your bedroom door.

“Sweetheart,” he called softly- it was the nickname he had been calling you since you were a child, just as he had always used “buddy” for Jack. “Can I come in?”

There was a murmured “Sure” that came through the door. When Aaron stepped through, he wasn’t surprised to find that the lights were off and you were wiping sleep away from your eyes.

“Hey,” he closed the door behind him and turned the lights on as dim as they could go. “You take a nap?”

“Yeah,” you said sleepily.

“I figured we could eat dinner together.” He sat on the edge of the bed and handed you a plate, though he wasn’t sure if you would actually eat it or just cut it into pieces and push it around with your fork.

“What time is it?” You asked.

“7:30,” he said. He began to eat his dinner, watching passively to see if you would too. “Jack is getting ready for bed.”

You nodded and took a small bite of food- a baby step forward. The rest of the meal was eaten slow and silent, but your dad didn't mind. Any time he got to spend with you was precious, especially since you didn't want to do much these days. Any time you ate something, anything, offered to you it brought him relief.

You finished about a fourth of your meal. Your dad knew better than to question if you wanted more- instead he just put your plate on top of his empty one.

“You want to do anything once Jack goes to sleep?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I’m tired.”

“Okay.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumbled and tucked yourself back under the covers.

He left your room, quietly closing the door behind him. He put the plates by the staircase so he wouldn’t forget to take them down before he went to bed and then walked to Jack’s room. The door was wide open, the little boy already wearing his favorite set of fire truck pajamas and tucked under the covers. Aaron expected him to be holding a comic book- one of the new ones with Captain America on it- but instead he was holding Haley’s candle.

“No comic book?” he asked.

Jack shook his head. “No. I thought we could talk to mommy instead.”

Aaron smiled just a little and nodded. He knelt next to Jack and lit the candle for him. The reflection of the flame danced in his dilated pupil as he silently thought of his mom and then he blew it out.

“All done,” Jack said.

Aaron placed the candle on the nightstand and gave Jack a kiss on the forehead, just as he had done for you. “Goodnight, buddy. I love you.”

“I love you too, daddy,” Jack said, settling under the blankets.

Aaron walked to the door and flipped off the lights. He was about to leave when he heard Jack’s voice again.

“I asked mommy if she could grant me a wish,” he said.

“Oh?” Jack didn’t usually tell your dad what he ‘talked’ to his mom about, which was something he was okay with. His children’s relationship with their mother was sacred and personal- something they should only have to share with others if they wanted to. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, his head peeking out from under the blankets. “I asked her to help (Y/N) get better.”

A sad smile warped Aaron’s features. “That’s a nice thing to ask for.”

“Yeah,” Jack hummed sleepily. “Goodnight, daddy.”

“Goodnight, buddy.”

Aaron closed the door and went back downstairs. The silence in the house was deafening- there should have been a movie on, or the clicking of a keyboard, or even soft music playing from your phone. But you were upstairs asleep, not wanting to do anything or be with anyone. He could have taken the time to enjoy the quiet, but he couldn’t. He tried to read, or get ahead on paperwork, or even clean (though the house didn’t need it), but he couldn’t be happy about the silence that was a result of your loss of joy.

He went to bed early, following his normal night routine until he got into bed and rolled over onto his side.

Haley’s candle was on the nightstand.

He sat up, taking a deep breath before gently reaching for the candle and lighting it. A tear fell from his eye as he watched the flame burn in front of him- a reminder of everything he had lost.

Honey, he thought. If you hear this, please help her. I’ve already lost you… I can’t lose her too.

I really can’t lose her too.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader #hotch x daughter!reader #hotch x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

[robertreich]

Why Are There Fees on Everything? 

If there’s one thing that brings our divided nation together, it’s our hatred of junk fees.

Junk fees are extra charges you don’t know you’re paying until you get the bill. They hide the true cost when you buy a good or service, so it’s impossible to comparison shop. For example…

Say I want to travel to go see my favorite musician Dolly Parton play at Nashville’s Grand Ole Opry.

When I book my plane ticket, I have to fork up extra cash to bring luggage or change my flight. My grandkids are more into Blippi than Dolly — so they won’t be traveling with me. Otherwise, I might have to pay a fee just to sit with them.

I need a rental car once I land, so I’ll be stuck paying an extra fee to pick up the car at the airport and another fee they never told me about to cover the rental company’s costs for disposing old tires. Seriously?

When I pay my hotel bill, the price is way higher than I thought I’d pay when I booked the room, to cover wi-fi, pool access, a gym, state and local taxes and other special fees.

Before I get to the show, I better look at my checking account balance if I want to buy a record. Even if I see that I have enough money to make a purchase, the timing of other charges hitting my account could result in me getting slapped with a surprise overdraft fee. It's a simple mistake, but could make a $20 record end up costing $50.

Oh and don’t forget the concert tickets themselves. Major ticket sellers like Ticketmaster tack on fees to attend shows, which can drive up the final ticket price as much as 78% percent higher than what I was told the initial price was.

It’s all bait-and-switch. You thought you could afford to see Dolly Parton, but it turns out it’s gonna take a lot more than working “9 to 5”.

Corporations often label these types of charges “convenience fees” or “service fees.” Probably because they “conveniently” “serve” to pad their bottom lines, costing Americans at least $29 billion dollars a year we didn’t expect to pay. This is a huge problem spanning many different industries — not just the ones I’d encounter on my trip.

But there’s good news: President Biden has urged Congress to draw up legislation to prevent these outrageous fees.

Turns out, one of the few things as popular as Dolly Parton is tackling junk fees. 

It’s time for Congress to act.

#youtube #junk fees #video #videos #politics #Joe Biden #Taylor Swift #dolly parton #economics

[mynameismckenziemae]

Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone-Chapter II

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader (no use of y/n)

Bob takes you out and lets you in after a(nother) moment of weakness.

(previous chapter here, next chapter here)

A/N: The mannerisms of Steve are based off of my sweet, derpy, old pup. She helped pull me out of my crippling postpartum depression and welcomed me back, forgetting I hadn’t just ignored her for the year prior (I was barely able to take care of my newborn, I wasn’t taking care of myself and I couldn’t fathom mustering up enough energy to even pet her, trust me, I still feel bad about it). She is the best.

Warnings: mentions of asshole ex boyfriends, negative thoughts (thanks to asshole ex boyfriend), smut, etc.

Bob waited until you were in your apartment and turned the lights on before taking off. Hes bubbling with different emotions as he drives home. He’s smitten, obviously. He’s never met a girl like you; so beautiful, witty, passionate, funny. He’s baffled that someone like you is interested in him. Then the embarrassment creeps in…he came in his pants like a fucking teenager, but relief since you didn’t laugh or make him feel worse. In fact, it had seemed you liked it. He can’t stop thinking about you whispering how you wanted to blow him the parking lot and then sucking your fingers…Damn it, he was hard again.

He sighed as he unlocked the door to his house. Even though his sister would come once a week or so to get his mail and check on the house, it was stale and stuffy. He opened the windows in his room and got in the shower.

___________________________________________

You overanalyzed the entire night while you showered, every look, every conversation, every touch.

You started and deleted a text to Bob several times before finally hitting ‘send’ and turning your phone over while you put your pajamas on.

Sunny: Thanks again for handling that jerk and following me home. I’m also sorry things got a little heated too quickly. I haven’t dated in years, but I don’t do that on the first date. Or, pre-first date I guess.

A few minutes later your phone dings.

Bob: You’re welcome, I’m just glad you’re okay. No worries, I liked it (obviously lol). Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.

Your stomach flutters and you breathe a sigh of relief. It’s okay. He’s not Derek. He doesn’t think you’re a whore. It’s okay for two consenting adults to do these things.

Sunny: I can’t wait either. Goodnight.

Bob: Sweet dreams

___________________________________________

You sleep until 9 and it feels amazing. You pick up a little in case Bob comes all the way to the door and get ready. He said to dress casually so you don a pair of shorts again with a favorite oversized band tee and a pair of Converse. It feels weird to be putting normal clothes on 2 days in a row, you pretty much live in scrubs or pajamas.

Bob knocks as you’re putting your hair up. As you open the door, you’re greeted by a fluffy gentleman sitting oh so patiently, his tail is giving away his excitement by going a mile a minute. “Hey there cutie. You must be Steve, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Sunny.” You say, crouching to pet him. He’s so soft, and his wet nose tickles as he sniffs you.

You rise and take in Bob. He looks good enough to eat in a worn pair of Levi’s and a gray tee. He hands you a bouquet of fresh flowers. “We stopped at the farmer’s market on the way, thought these were pretty,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, the tops of his ears turning red.

“They’re gorgeous. Thank you. Come in, I’ll put them in water.” You smile.

“We can wait out here, he sheds a lot”. Bob replies.

“Oh gosh, don’t worry about it, I grew up with pets and have a vacuum.” You insist, pushing the door open wider.

“Alright,” he agrees. As he brushes past, you notice the slight bruise you sucked into his neck last night and your cheeks heat. Embarrassment or arousal? You weren’t sure.

“Nice place,” Bob says looking around. Steve is sniffing everything in sight.

“Thanks, it’s small but it’s got everything I need. I’ll eventually look into buying a house, but I’m comfortable here for now” you say, trimming the ends of the flowers. “Where’s your place?”

“About 15 minutes from here, by Valencia Park” he replies, looking at the pictures hung on your walls

You nod while filling a mason jar with water and place the flowers in it, setting it in the kitchen window. “Perfect. Thanks again.” You kiss his cheek. “Hey, what’s that on your neck?” You tease, lightly brushing the bruise with your fingertips.

He blushes again and chuckles. “Must’ve burnt myself with the curling iron”.

You laugh, “Is that so? You should really be more careful.”

“You’re telling me. All set?” He asks.

“Let’s go” You nod.

___________________________________________

You watch Steve take the stairs down while you lock up. “That is impressive, is there anything he can’t do?”

“No, not really. I help him in and out of the truck bed because it’s pretty high, but he’s adapted way better than I would’ve expected. Oh hey, my truck is just a regular cab, so there’s no backseat. I hope you don’t mind, but you’ll want to sit in the middle, or Steve will be on your lap. He insists on being by the window, one way or another.” He says as he unlocks it, stepping aside to let Steve through.

You climb on next to Steve and squeal as he immediately goes for your ears, sniffing and huffing with his wet nose again.

“Sorry, he’s pretty polite, but he has a thing for ears,” Bob grins as he gets in seat beside you.

You laugh, “I don’t mind, he’s so sweet. I’m just ticklish”.

Bob pulls out of Penny’s driveway and you’re off. Once he puts the cruise on, he relaxes his leg, resting it against your bare one. Goosebumps rise at the feel of his rough jeans against your skin. Down girl.

“Where we going?” You ask.

“There’s a quiet, dog-friendly beach up there road here, it’s Steve’s favorite place. I packed some lunch too” he replies, slowing to turn into the parking lot.

“That sounds great” you answer.

Steve realizes where he is. His front paws start tippy-tapping and he whines, hardly able to contain his excitement.

You laugh, patting him. “Almost there buddy”.

___________________________________________

Steve zooms along the shore as you and Bob put down a thick blanket. You three are the only occupants, save for an older man with an older dog a couple hundred yards down the beach.

You sit cross-legged and Bob comes to stretch out beside you, handing you a sandwich. You both laugh as Steve attempts to stalk some seagulls, but panics and tucks tail back when they start chasing him. He hides behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. You give him a smooch “You’re okay, I won’t let them get you. Those gulls are mean, huh?”

Bob tells you stories about Steve while you eat, making you laugh at his antics. He pulls his phone out and shows you a picture his sister snapped last night of Steve tucked into the sleeping bag between two little girls, all three wearing sleep masks. “Guess he slept like that all night” Bob chuckles.

Steve eventually sneaks his way between you two, laying his chin on your knee. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” You say, softly rubbing his forehead. Bob chokes, his thoughts immediately turning dirty at your words. You bite your cheek so you don’t smile, pretending you don’t notice.

“Did you bring a ball or anything to play fetch with?” Bob nods, grabbing a frisbee from the bag.

___________________________________________

You three play for a while, the sun warming your arms and legs. It feels good to be outside. Bob tosses the frisbee towards you and Steve, but the wind catches pushing it behind you. Steve’s too focused on it to realize where he is and knocks you off your feet.

“Oh my God, Sunny!” You hear Bob yell running over. “Steven! Watch out buddy, give her some space.”

You can’t answer, you’re laughing too hard. Steve’s in your ears again, sniffing, huffing, and licking. Your laughter makes him more excited, and he zooms away as soon as Bob gets to you. “I’m so sorry, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. I can see why you love him so much, he’s quite the character.” Bob holds his hand out to help you up. You take it but tug him down instead. He lands with a surprised oomph. You pull him to you for a kiss. He stiffens for just a moment, caught off guard (again) but relaxes into it. You kiss slowly, lazily. You suck his tongue and groans deeply. He’s hard, pressed perfectly against the seam of your shorts right where you need him. “You feel so good” you murmur against his lips. He twitches against you.

Out of nowhere, you feel frigid saltwater slide around you, soaking you both. The tide came in. You squeal and Bob chuckles, the moment gone. Probably for the best, you don’t really want an indecent exposure on your record.

He helps you to your feet. “My place is closer to here, we can get cleaned up and dried off there if that’s okay?”

You nod, wanting to get out of these wet, sandy clothes ASAP.

_______________________________________________

Bob grabs some dog shampoo from his truck and you help him lather and rinse the sand from Steve. “I know it’s a pain with his fur, but he loves the beach so much. It’s worth the extra work to me” you nod, agreeing. You towel him off, unable to stop kissing his wrinkly forehead. Bob lifts him into the bed of the truck and leads him into the kennel he has secured. “I know it’s not the safest, but I only put him in here after the beach. It helps him dry and he loves the wind in his face.” He explains.

You give him a quick kiss. “He’s lucky to have you Bob, you’re a great dog-dad”.

You both towel the sand off the best you can before getting in yourself. “I’m sorry about your truck, I can help you vacuum it” you offer.

“Don’t worry about it, my neighbor's son details cars for extra cash and is always looking for business. I always give him double after beach days.”

“That’s sweet of you.” You reply, sliding into the middle seat again.

“You don’t have, I mean you can sit there if you want but—“

You buckle your seat belt. “I know. I wanna sit by you.”

He nods, a little pink staining his cheeks, “Alright”.

___________________________________________

A few minutes later, Bob pulls into a cute, navy blue bungalow. “This is it”.

“I like it, it’s cute.”

You laugh as Bob helps Steve out of the truck bed. His fur is fluffy from the ride.

Bob leads you into the house. It’s tidy, with a minimalistic and cozy design. It smells like him—like clean, fresh laundry with a hint of leather.

He shows you to his bathroom, handing you a towel, he turns to leave. “If you want to leave your clothes outside the door, I’ll throw them in the wash with mine before I shower”.

“Will do, thanks.”

He shuts the door behind him. You carefully undress, trying to not fling sand everywhere. You turn the water on and set your clothes outside the door, purposely leaving your lacy bralette and thong on top to tease him.

You’re lathering your hair for the second time when you hear a knock. “You can come in. Sorry for taking so long, I can’t get the sand out of my hair.”

Bob freezes. He’s been half-hard since he put your pretty underwear in the wash, but taking in your naked silhouette against the frosted glass has him at full mast instantly. “It’s okay, no uh…rush. I have some clothes for you when you’re done. I’ll put them here on the counter”.

“Thanks, I’ll be out soon” you smile as he closes the door. You probably didn’t need to arch your back and stick your tits out like that, but his reactions to you are just too good.

___________________________________________

A few minutes later, you towel dry your hair and take yourself in the mirror. Bare-faced, nipples that could cut diamonds poking through his worn ‘US Navy’ tee, and rolled sweat pants. You look like a slob, you only wear makeup and straighten your hair when you go out, always trying to look good for other guys, you can hear Derek words in your mind.

You push him out of your head as you hang up your towel and open the door.

___________________________________________

Bob fumbles his phone as he takes you in. Curly, wet hair, perky breasts gently bouncing under his shirt as you pad over to him.

He reaches out and brushes a curl by your forehead. “I wondered if your hair was curly after it got wet at the beach. It’s pretty. Do you always straighten it?”

You nod, throat thick as you answer. “Yeah, my ex didn’t like it, thought I was ‘attention seeking’ when I would wear it natural, probably because someone usually commented on it. He uhh, he thought everything about me was ‘too much’; I laughed too much, I talked too much, I hugged too much. We broke up months ago, but I’m still trying to find myself again.” You look away, feeling vulnerable.

“Sounds like he’s an idiot. You could never be too much, Sunny. Your hair is beautiful no matter how you wear it. Everything about you is beautiful.” Tears fill your eyes as and he turns you toward him, kissing you sweetly.

You kiss him back and things heat up quickly. His hand slides into your hair fully, while the other goes to your waist, pulling you into him. He can feel your nipples brush across his chest and his cock twitches. He brings his hand up slowly, but as he reaches the underside of your breast, the doorbell rings, startling you apart. “Oh, I ordered pizza. I got half cheese, half everything so you can put whatever you want on. I hope that’s okay” he says as he turns, trying to discretely tuck his erection into his waistband so he doesn’t scare the delivery driver.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. I like everything but anchovies and mushrooms.”

“Agreed, I’ll remember that for next time” he says as he opens the door.

Hmmm, next time? You like the sound of that.

___________________________________________

You both dig in, having a beer each. Steve sits nearby, politely begging with his eyes.

You tell him about yourself. How you were always getting into trouble as a kid since you were quite the little adrenaline junkie, always looking for a thrill. About how you wanted to be a naval aviator like your old man, but you couldn’t put your mom through that, especially seeing the toll it took on Carole when Bradley joined. You tell him how you thrive in chaotic environments and by doing flight nursing, you could combine your passion for flying and help people. He takes in your every word, listening intently.

You settle in on the couch after for a movie as you wait for your clothes to dry, Steve draped across your lap, fast asleep as you rub his ears. “I knew he’d love you.”

You smile, “He’s a sweetheart.”

Bob puts his arm around you and plays with a curl by your ear absentmindedly. He pulls a little and you shiver as your nipples harden. “You cold?” He asks, looking down at you.

You shake your head, dropping your gaze to his lips. You lean forward, capturing his lips with yours. You moan into it, you’ve been worked up too many times since last night without relief. He licks into your mouth, pushing his hand into your hair farther. Your right goes to his chest, sliding up to brush your fingertips over the bruise from the night prior again. He inhales sharply, breaking the kiss. “Steve, buddy, go to bed, okay?” He asks him breathlessly, eyes not leaving yours.

Steve hops off with a heavy sigh, walking towards the bedroom.

You rise to straddle him, leaning forward to bite his bottom lip before kissing along his jaw. You slide your hips forward until you trap his cock against his stomach. His breath hitches in your ear at the contact. You smile into his jaw as you slowly start moving your hips, up and down, rubbing your clit against him.

You let out a breathy moan and his grip on your hips tightens. You kiss up to his ear and lightly nip the lobe. “You’re so big, I can’t wait to have you inside me”

Bob lets out a strangled groan at that. His hands release your hips and slide back to your ass, squeezing a handful in each palm, pulling you harder into his cock. You groan against his ear before pulling back and whipping his shirt off of you.

Your bare tits are level with his face. “Sweet Jesus” he whispers, bringing his hands up from your ass to cup one carefully in each hand. “They’re perfe—you’re perfect,” he says in awe. You should get a boob job, no guy likes less than a D cup, you hear Derek's voice again, but Bob brings you back to him by circling your nipple with his calloused fingertips.

You whimper, “Keep touching me, please. Just like that, and this” You bring your hand up to gently pull and pinch.

His eyes drift shut with a groan, the sight of you playing with your tits is too much. His erection throbs against your hip as he nods, continuing his ministrations. Your hands go to his shoulders for leverage.

You work your hips faster, already hurtling towards the edge. He leans forward and gently sucks your nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

You whimper, “Almost there” as your orgasm approaches.

Bob pulls back at the sound, replacing his mouth with his fingers, and groans as he feels you soaking through both pairs of pants. His hips jerk up, chasing your warm, wet heat. He’s getting close too. You moan and your hips stutter as his tip catches your clit just right. He takes your hands and places them on your tits, and drops his back to your hips to guide them. You pinch both nipples as he thrusts and that’s all it takes.

You cry out as your orgasm sweeps through you. Bob takes you in, trying to commit the sight and sounds of you to memory. Eyes closed, flushed cheeks, hands playing with your perfect breasts, your hips undulating against his…it’s enough to pull him over the edge. He groans, hands gripping bruises into your hips and he cums too, coating the inside of his pants (again).

You lean down and place a kiss on his damp forehead. His face is flushed, and he won’t look at you.

“You okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, I—I’m good. I uh, I think we should talk.” He replies and a cold wave of shame washes through you. You did too much too fast. Again.

Bob feels you stiffen on him. “No, hey, no it’s nothing you did, it’s not anything bad, I don’t think, I just,” The dryer dings from down the hall, signaling your clothes are dry. “Hey, let’s get cleaned up and I’ll explain.”

You nod, still uneasy and follow him to the laundry room.

___________________________________________

You meet Bob back in the living room, wearing your clean clothes. Mmm, you smell like him.

He gestures for you to sit by him. You can tell he’s nervous, or embarrassed. Maybe both.

“So you know how I told you I’m not good with women, dating, and all that?” You nod. “Well, I meant it. I haven’t dated much. The longest relationship was 2 years in high school. We fooled around a bit, but never went all the way since her family was strict Catholics and she was saving herself for marriage. We broke up after I joined the navy cause she didn’t like long distance. I’ve dated a bit here and there, but it never lasted long as it’s difficult to keep a relationship when I was moving around so much and deployed so often. So…that’s why I was uh…a little quick on the draw last night, and not much better today. You’re gorgeous Sunny, so that doesn’t help either.”

You nod, and can breathe a little better in relief. You’re starting to understand. “Bob, it’s okay. I knew you just got off the carrier after 4 months. It’s…it’s also been a long time for me too. I think that’s why I can’t keep my hands off you, not to mention how good you look in those Levi’s” you laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

Bob’s blush deepens and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh yeah, except that I haven’t, I’ve never…” he stammers.

You realize what he’s trying to say, your stomach flips and your pussy clenches. Oh the things you’re gonna do to him.

“Bob, are you a virgin?”

#bob floyd #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #natasha phoenix trace

[bluestripedspeedo]

Indiscreet - 05. In the Mood for Love Pairing: Writer/Producer!Javi Gutierrez x you (Hollywood AU) SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter summary: This is it. The Big Moment. Chapter warning: NSFW, NC-17, mature, no minors allowed. Discussion of safety, oral (both you and Javi), PIV, dirty talk, daddy kink (not the DDLG kind), age gap (mid 20s and mid 40s). Word count: 9.8k

Playlist: Dress - Taylor Swift So It Goes

Author's note: I had this in the queue two years ago, then life got in the way and I abandoned it. I've decided to return because I feel I have a responsibility to finish what I started, so here it is, the very long awaited smut chapter!

I've also decided to tweak the previous chapters a lot because I've changed as a person in these two years, so it's better to reread those first, as a refresher too. When I first started writing this, it was going to be about a pandemic/quarantine romance - it was initially inspired by The Bubble's premise anyway. But... that's old news now, and I don't feel like going back to that space of mind. You fall in love under different circumstances now.

Enjoy and apologies for my absence. I promise to be here more often!

✧✧✧

Day 9

The wrap party is held at the villa where you’d been filming for the past week. All of the cast and crew members are present except for one glaring absence – Dieter Bravo. He’d left the set faster than Óscar could even announce it’s a wrap. In full costume, no less.

Javi has to do something about that. Dieter’s a brilliant actor, that’s undeniable, but his public image hasn’t been positive lately. Hunger Strike helped him sweep the awards season, and if Dieter could be a little more professional, Javi wouldn’t mind pushing the campaign for his work in this too. He’s lucky he physically resembles Javi a little… As long as Javi keeps writing self-insert characters into his scripts, Dieter will always have a job waiting. 

The dinner part of the party is over – people are scattered around the garden mingling and draining the last bottles of champagne and making plans for the few days off until work resumes in London.

“Óscar,” you sit down between him and Javi. They have settled on the chairs they dragged to the corner to overlook the sea while they drink and smoke. “I’m gonna go with those guys. They’ll drive me back.”

Your head nudges towards the group laughing boisterously on the steps of the villa. Some are crew, some are your co-stars that you’ve been working with since the start of the production, and some are new local actors hired just for the duration of the shoot here. They’ve made such a tight knit group you’re surprised that they even asked you to come along at all.

“Taking the party elsewhere?” Óscar asks.

“Yeah… we’re going to Saint-Tropez.”

“We could go with you. If you want.” Javi carefully masks his hopeful tone.

“We’re gonna hit up some clubs...”

“You’re way too old for that.” Óscar slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“Right,” Javi drinks the rest of his cognac in one gulp and pours another, since he’s not going anywhere tonight by the looks of it. “Might displace my hip on the dance floor or something.” 

You laugh. “You’re good. It’s just… I never went out with any of them, so… could be fun.” 

“Oh my God, go, we’re not your parents,” Óscar shoos you. “Just be on the boat on time tomorrow. And ask the others, too.”

“Will do, Dad.”

Javi chokes on his drink and Óscar snorts. He gets up when the cinematographer and boom operator drunkenly call for his attention. “Have fun, kid.” 

“Take care of yourself. Don’t drink too much.” Javi says once Óscar is safely out of hearing distance. He didn’t see you drinking at all during dinner despite the free flowing alcohol and now he suspects it’s because you’ve planned on going all out for the after party. He doesn’t mean to be controlling, but he’s supportive of your intention to cut back and he doesn’t really trust that party crowd to look after you. Not that he thinks you couldn’t do it yourself, but it would give him a peace of mind if you were going to be inebriated.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. I just feel like I should go. They’re my castmates. I haven’t spent much time with them, or even at all.” All thanks to the man sitting across from you, but you have no regrets. “And, you know, networking.”

“We both know you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he grins. “Where are you going? Do you know yet?”

“No, but probably something really cliche like Les Caves or VIP.”

“Is Elise coming too? I don’t see her.”

“She left. Like ten minutes ago. Don’t ask me how I know and don’t tell anyone, but she’s following Dieter.” 

Oh, shit. Javi’s eyes go wide. 

“Hey, don’t ask.”

Javi is incredulous. Is he that oblivious to even his actors now? He’s on set most days and he always keeps a closer eye on them to anticipate any on set drama. He’s known them both for as long as he’s been in the industry and he usually could get a good read on these things. Takes one to know one. Maybe he’s really been that distracted.

“What about Ross? Is he coming with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” A coy smile slowly forms on your lips.

“Nothing. I heard he asked you out.” He looks away from you into the distance. 

You fake a gasp. “Were you eavesdropping on me?”

“He was pretty damn loud about it.”

“Then you know I told him I have a boyfriend, right?”

“I thought so. The way his face fell. If only he could emote that well on camera.”

“Javi! That’s mean!”

“You know I’m not wrong.”

He’s right. You might be new, but you figured a while ago Ross couldn’t have been cast for his talents but rather his heartthrob status for maximum PR.

“So who’s the boyfriend?” Javi playfully side eyes you and you nudge your knee to his. “Can’t be me, too old for that.”

“Uh huh. Let’s see…” You pretend to think. “Man-friend? Lover?”

Javi groans and makes a face.

“Ooh, I know,” you look at him seductively. “Daddy.”

“Careful.” Fuck.

“Wow… I…” your eyes widen. This is definitely interesting. “...can’t wait to explore that.”

“It only sounds hot coming from you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Any cute nicknames for me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He throws you a teasing glance. “You could’ve found out an hour from now, give or take.” You look at him in question, so he continues. “I have a whole surprise planned – had.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“‘Surprise’ being the key word there, babe.”

“I could tell them–”

“No, forget I said anything. Go have fun.”

“But–”

“Honey. We can’t exactly hang out with each other’s friends, so when you have the chance to be with them, you go, okay? I’ll be fine.” He might be seeing things but he swears he sees your eyes tear up… with relief. Why do you need permission so badly?

“Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“I can’t promise I’ll still be up. I’m ooooold.” He leans back on his chair, taking his time to admire you in your low cut dress under the guise of having a casual, professional conversation. 

“Hm, so is it your idea or Óscar’s to go to the casino tomorrow? That’s some old people shit.” The lightness comes back in your tone.

“Noitsnot.” Javi answers too quickly.

“Yeah, right. Looking forward to playing the jackpot?”

“I’ll have you know I’ll sweep you at poker.” 

“If you say so. I’ll make sure to wear something interesting to distract you.”

“That’s cheating but I’ll allow it.”

“And meanwhile,” you shift so he could get a better look at your cleavage. “Think about what could’ve happened if you’d told me your plans first.”

“Ah, so my usual thoughts. That’s easy.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “I didn’t come last night, daddy.”

He suppresses a groan. “Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“I had to. You made me so wet.” 

“I offered to take care of you, baby.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t come. I wanted to wait for you.”

“Fuck.”

“Well, now we’re even. See you tomorrow.”

You get up and leave to join your friends, leaving him hard and wanting as he pulls out a new cigarette. 

✧✧

Day 10

You are positively trying to kill him today. As if the thought of you touching yourself right under his room wasn’t enough to make his balls about to explode, now you’re lounging in the red one piece that drove him crazy a couple of months ago. He tries hard, very hard, to look at literally anything else. He hopes no one notices how long he’s been ‘taking pictures’ of the oceanic view. 

And it gets worse. When it’s time to dress up to the nines for the night, he puts on a light blue suit jacket, but you… you go beyond what you promised. You arrive last to the casino and in that moment, it’s as if everything in the room stops. It stirs something in him too when he sees people checking you out as you walk past them. 

“You look so handsome.” You tell him once you’re close enough. Óscar had gone straight to the high rollers table upon arrival, taking a few crew members on his dime. But Javi’s content with sitting around nursing his drink, waiting for you.

“This isn’t fair.” He gives you a quick once over.

“You like it?” You’re not usually one to wear something so revealing, but Javi makes you bold. You were saving this up for a proper date with him back in London, but there’s no time like the present. You can’t even be shy about showing so much because you need to elicit his reaction.

“It’s fucking fantastic.”

“You should see it on the floor.”

He drops his head and sighs heavily, then he points his drink towards the slot machines. “One round and we’re leaving.”

“What happened to poker? Are you chickening out?” You challenge him.

“No, but it takes much more time.”

“Excuses, excuses…” From here, you can see Óscar in your line of sight. “Why don’t we leave after he wins? Then he’ll be busy with the next round to notice us, right?”

“That’d be a while. He sucks.”

“Go and help him, then. Oh, how are we getting back?”

“We’re not. I’m getting us a suite.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s a lot less private around here. People talk.”

You’re right, and logistically it’s more difficult to explain both of your absences for the night and potentially tomorrow morning. The yacht isn’t an option, either.

“Let’s Uber, then.”

“Yeah, we can’t do that. It doesn’t work here.”

He studies your face while he calculates his options. “Sit tight, I have an idea.”

✧

The ‘idea’ turns out to be buying a fellow gambler’s car with his winnings. Of all things you expected to happen today, finding yourself in the backseat of a Pagani was not one. Javi was a few hundred thousand short but he didn’t think the guy cared that much. From the way he had been gawking at Javi and Óscar since they walked in, he probably would’ve given it away for free. His immaculate taste in cars was just a nice bonus. Plus, the color matches his suit. 

“I just have to send his kids some signed merch and arrange them a tour of the Beskar set. Great deal, huh?”

“You billionaires are weird.” You shake your head in amusement.

He starts the car and the revving attracts a few passersby. “What did you tell Óscar?” 

“That I’m tired and everyone else is busy having fun. He didn’t even blink.”

“Let’s hope they’ll keep him occupied ‘til tomorrow.”

The two of you ride in silence, enjoying the vast view of hills and sea, away from the city lights. Javi is relaxed and concentrated, and it gives you a warm, calm feeling seeing him this way.

“It’s been a long time since I drove a sports car. This is a vast improvement from the last one, though, definitely.” He looks over to your side, clearly enjoying his time. “Better looking passenger, too.”

“Pfft, come on! So cheesy.”

“I’m serious… It was with Nic.” Javi says with a chuckle. “You should’ve seen how everyone was looking at you.”

“Can’t say I noticed.”

“Hmm-mm. They were.”

“Did you like it? Or were you jealous?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I get jealous when I see other women checking you out. I’m not too proud to admit that.”

“But they don’t hold a candle to you. So don’t worry.”

“Same here. Don’t want anyone else.”

You caress his arm up to his shoulder where he turns his head to give your hand a kiss. Then you lightly travel down to tug at the buttons on his stomach, then his belt, then the zipper of his pants… you let out a soft moan when he involuntarily bucks towards your hand. Feeling brave, and to his surprise, you cup him over the material and he lets out a heavy groan. 

“Behave, baby. You keep that up and we won’t make it there.”

“Okay, but drive faster. Feels so heavy, Javi. I want it all in me. Make it fit.” Turning him on turns you on.

His hands on the steering wheel turn white. “Fuck yes baby you’re gonna take it. Wearing that dress like you’re begging to be fucked. I knew everyone in there pictured your bare tits.”

Oh. Your jaw drops. That’s… unexpected. You squeeze him in response and he immediately takes away your hand to clasp it above his knee.

“You’re so fucking naughty. Teasing me every day.” Javi’s deep voice drops a few more octaves and it makes you squirm. “What happened to waiting, hm?”

“I can’t. I’m tired of fingering myself to sleep, every night.” 

“Yeah? What did you think about when you did it?”

“Yours in me… mine aren’t thick enough, Javi,” you sigh from your own admission. “Your tongue. Feeling your mustache on me. You stretching m–”

You gasp when Javi suddenly grips your hand tightly. You’ve never seen Javi look this intense before. His nostrils flare, his eyes darken, and his breathing becomes so heavy you can hear it in the silence. 

“Want you fucking my mouth, daddy,” you continue, making him grip you again to the point of almost hurting. 

“You–” His mouth forms into a snarl. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You bring up his hand that grips you to run his thumb along your lips to nibble on it. You do the same to each finger, eyes looking at him putting all his effort into concentrating on the road ahead. He finally turns his head when you slip his middle finger past your lips to the knuckle, giving it a languid, sensual suck. A teaser of what’s to come. 

“Fuck, baby. You have to stop.” Javi lets out a moan as he focuses back on the road and you keep swirling your tongue around him, rubbing the underside back and forth as if it were–

You have an idea.

You hope you won’t crash and die on these hills. 

Your other hand makes a quick work hiking up your dress and your mouth lets go of his finger and you guide your hand and his between your thighs and–

Javi lets out an angry growl when his hand meets your soaked panties. “You get this wet from talking?”

“It’s you, Javi…” He starts rubbing you through the material and you throw your head back on the seat, moving your hips along with his movement. 

Then you have another idea.

You recline the seat, shimmy your ruined panties off, and drape your leg over the console to spread yourself open. The cold that hits you is nothing compared to the warmth of his massive hand so close to your center. Javi’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of their sockets. He can’t see you clearly in the dark, but he can definitely feel your wetness on the leather. 

“Please, Javi… I don’t wanna wait.”

Javi mutters something under his breath, his one hand on the wheel shaking. He didn’t plan on doing this here, or even tonight. He was going to surprise you with a private dinner the other night, and tonight he only wanted to take you back to the villa just so you could stop pretending you’re just coworkers when work is already done - for the time being, anyway. He thought it would be PG at best, but… he’s not complaining. But he’s driving, and he’s thisclose to losing control. 

But on the other hand, is your exposed pussy begging for his touch. And Javi’s only a man.

So Javi decides to be a gentleman and give you what you ask for. He starts by running his hand over your mound, groaning at the smoothness. Then he moves his hand further down and spreads your wetness over his hand and yourself, fingers parting your lips along the way. You don’t dare to look down because even a mere glance of Javi’s hand working on you would make you come, you’re sure of it. 

But you do anyway, just as his finger starts to rub your clit in circular motions, making you fall back on the seat with a loud moan. He continues and puts more pressure as you squirm and writhe, restrained by the seatbelt across your torso, keening sounds filling the small space.

He wishes he could watch you. Maybe he should pull over, get you off, then drive again after you’re both satisfied? But he really doesn’t wanna do it in a car that hasn’t even been his for an hour. You deserve better, somewhere more comfortable, even when you’re so desperate now.

Luckily the GPS says they’re only 5 minutes away.

5 minutes too long.

“Javi…” your pleading moan takes him back into the situation at hand, and he gets the hint. You need more. 

So he gives you more. His middle finger prods your entrance and enters you without warning, making you bite your lip in pleasure. Your two that usually keep you busy on many lonely nights is nothing in comparison to his thick one. His knuckles on the steering wheel go white when you clench around him as he tries to find your spot without even looking in your direction. 

3 minutes.

Should he, or should he not make you come? It’s fucking hot, seeing you grip the armrest and your toes curling, hearing you loudly cry when he adds another finger, the squelch of your pussy equally as loud as your wanton moans to his ears. DRIVEDRIVEDRIVEyouresocloseDRIVEsoclose

The GPS doesn’t even get to announce your arrival before he carelessly parks the car in the driveway. His fingers leave your core to your dismay and he doesn’t give you a moment before pulling his seatbelt off and lurches on to you, grabbing your face in a passionate kiss and smearing your wetness on his fingers on your neck. 

“Javi…” you try to get a word in between kisses. “Let’s– let’sgoinsidebaby–”

Reluctantly he pulls back from you, eyes as dark as the night. With a heavy sigh, Javi exits the car and helps you out, your panties forgotten on the floor.

✧

Javi opens the front door and doesn’t even get to turn on the lights when a moaning sound from somewhere inside freezes you both.

“Óscar…?” Javi tries, as much as he knows it couldn’t be him. The moans persist and turn into groans. “Uh… stay here. Call security, please, honey.”

“NO!” 

“Dieter?!” Javi says incredulously to which the man answers with another groan. You close the door and follow Javi to the living room.

“Hey, man. Sorry to crash.”

Dieter is passed out on the couch, hair strewn in every direction, barely dressed in a pair of boxers and a wrinkled green bathroom robe. He’s holding a corked bottle of wine that threatens to slip out of his grasp that he clearly struggled to open with his bare hands before. By his feet is a spilled, empty glass of whatever he was having and an unlit joint that already burned a hole through the velvet material. It’s a shitshow.

“How did you even get in here?”

“I climbed. Your security is shit.”

“Yeah, thanks. Why are you here?”

“Why are you so pissy?”

At that moment, you come into his view and Dieter’s reddened eyes stare at you quizzically before noticing your smeared lipstick… and your see-through front that you try to cover as much as you can with your very small clutch.

And then he has the audacity to drop his gaze onto Javi’s tented lap.

“Oooooohhhhh. No fucking way. You’re so dead.”

“Hi… Dieter.” You try to meet his eyes so he wouldn’t look anywhere else, particularly your… private area.

“Holy shit. Does Óscar know?”

You glance at Javi who keeps glaring at Dieter in anger. His patience is running thin.

“Dieter. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

“I got high and Elise threw a fucking fit because I was balls de– I was with my PA. Don’t look at me all judgy like that. You’re also tapping this hot piece of a–”

“Shut up!” Javi barks. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Chill the fuck out, Javi.” Dieter rolls his eyes and gives you a salute. “Great dress… beautiful dress.”

“Stop.”

“Okay. Damn.”

“Go back to your room, Dieter.”

“Can’t. She’s in there.”

“That’s your problem.”

“You go and fuck each other’s brains out. I’ll sit here and be quiet.”

“Out, Dieter. I give you ten seconds. Ten.” Javi starts counting.

“Really?”

“I’m getting a drink.” You announce to no one. Luckily there’s a throw blanket on the nearest chair and you’re able to swiftly cover yourself in it.

Dieter gets up and stumbles right behind you to the kitchen. “Great idea!”

“Hey!” Javi’s growl echoes throughout the house and he stalks after Dieter, grabbing him by the collar of his robe. “Nine.”

“Let go of me, man.”

“I’ve had it with you, Dieter. You got arrested, you ran off set, you mess around with my crew–”

“Oh and that rule doesn’t apply to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I make the rules.”

“Yeah? I thought Óscar does.”

“Eight, Dieter. Watch it.”

“Hey, I never asked.” Dieter smirks at you. “How old are you? Twenty?”

“Four years ago, I was.” You tell him nonchalantly at the same time that Javi says “don’t answer him.”

Dieter looks over his shoulder at Javi and barks out a mocking laugh. “You have one year to leave him for Leo. Nice.”

“That’s it, we’re done.” Javi’s grip tightens on Dieter’s robe and he starts to drag him back out. All this male posturing is really wearing you off. You can’t take this back and forth between them anymore. This was supposed to be a fun night for you. 

“I have seven more, don’t I?”

“Just… let him stay, Javi. I’m tired anyway.” You let out an exaggerated sigh and fill up another glass with water and put it on the kitchen island, motioning to Dieter that it’s for him. You bury your face in your hands, softly massaging your temples while Javi goes to stand by your side with his back facing Dieter. You reach out until you find his hand and you squeeze it softly, silently assuring him it’s not his fault.

The three of you stand around in silence while Dieter sips his water and Javi eventually stops clenching from anger. When he’s done drinking, Dieter finally looks like he knows what guilt is.

“Sorry for ruining your night.”

“Hmm.” “No shit.” You and Javi reply in unison.

“You two gonna tell Óscar about this?”

“None of your business.” Javi turns around to face him with a finality in his tone. “And whatever is going on with Elise, sort that out before we’re back to filming.”

“I don’t have any more scenes.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’ve told you I’ve taken up that other job.”

“What other job?”

“Cliff Beasts.”

You snort and raise your head. “Cliff Beasts? Really?”

He shrugs. “Money’s good.”

“Use that for rehab.” Javi snarks.

“Who else is in it?” You sincerely wonder. You were too young to watch the original in theaters when it came out, but the franchise keeps getting more and more ridiculous with each sequel. You keep up just to understand the memes, like everyone does. 

“The entire old cast is coming back. Even Carol Cobb.”

“Cool. Love her.”

“And new people your age. They keep telling me they’re from TikTok. What’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismiss his question. He should stay in the dark about that. The world doesn’t deserve to witness Dieter’s shenanigans on that app. 

You rinse your glass and pat Javi’s arm. “I’m going to bed.”

Javi watches you walk away and waits until you close your bedroom door before he scolds Dieter. “You saw nothing, heard nothing. No one will know about this.”

“Okay.”

“One slip up and I won’t vouch for you anymore.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll be gone tomorrow morning before we’re up. Sort your shit out.”

“Heard you.”

Javi leaves him to go up to his room and he hears Dieter call out a thanks when he’s halfway past the stairs. He has no energy to acknowledge it.

✧

And gone before they’re up, he did. Óscar didn’t even see him when he finally got back around 7 AM and the rest of the day was spent shuffling around to pack. Javi had to arrange the shipment of the new car he acquired too. There was no time to talk about last night, or talk at all, because Javi’s private plane was already waiting on the tarmac for whenever they’re done and ready to leave. 

Óscar is passed out from hangover across from him while you occupy the front of the plane. Busy on your phone, as usual. From his position he can somewhat make out an Escher-looking game. There’s only 30 minutes left before the plane lands in London and he has about 15 before Óscar wakes up.

“So,” he moves next to your seat and speaks in a whisper. “Where are you going after we land?”

“I have to check into my hotel. Why are we whispering?”

“Do you want to just stay at mine? For the rest of the shoot?”

It’s very tempting. But logistically it’ll only call attention to you. You can’t exactly get away with staying at the producer’s house for an entire month. It’s bad enough that Ava knows and now Dieter too. “And tell my PA what?”

“That you’re renting your own place? Staying with a friend?”

“They need to know where they’re picking me up every day.”

“That’s easy. I’ll drive you.”

“Yes, that won’t be suspicious at all.”

Javi sighs in defeat. You’re right, again. Óscar stirs in his seat and Javi waits until he stills again to propose his solution. Except Óscar doesn’t and is fully awake now and asking if they’re there yet.

“I’ll text you,” he mouths.

✧✧

London, three days later 

What he proposed in the text didn’t come into fruition. He’d told you to check in, repack your necessities, and he’ll pick you up to go to his place. Only go to your hotel when you need new clothes. It’s not a bad idea, but it doesn’t matter anyway because you didn’t even get to unpack before Javi informed you that he’d be busy and couldn’t pick you up. 

So you’ve been staying in your room, alone, since you got back, flicking through the script for next week and for a new series Javi sent you this morning. “Ten episodes, HBO. Whichever role you want.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it turns out acting doesn't interest you that much and someone else would be more grateful for the opportunity. He also told you he offered Dieter the same project, who accepted it on the spot. But Dieter needs to complete Cliff Beasts first before this starts production, so you have time until then to tell Javi.

Who is now calling you. You pick up on the first ring.

“Hey, baby.” His voice sounds tired and it’s barely dark. He’s been occupied with meetings and prep, hence his absence. “Wanna go for dinner in an hour?”

“I just finished eating room service. We could go for drinks, though?”

“I don’t wanna be buzzed. I need to be up early tomorrow,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I miss you.”

Your heart aches, knowing the effort he puts into his work and how much it means to him and Óscar. You know how badly he wants his production company to be on par with the big league studios. You know how much thought and research and passion he puts into each of his films. All of that doesn’t even count running his family business on top of everything too - the legal one, the only one that still exists. It hasn’t been the same since a new guy took over from his ex and because of that Javi has to be more hands on in every decision making, or so he told you.

“Miss you too. Where are you right now?”

“Amsterdam.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Didn’t I tell you this morning?”

Definitely no, you would’ve remembered. “No, but– why?”

“Business stuff. Anyway, I’m about to take off.”

“Okay, umm…” You try to think of an idea quickly, still dumbfounded by the new information. “Why don’t you… come over tonight?”

“I’m just gonna disappoint you, babe. I’m so tired.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t mean– we don’t have to– just have dinner here and sleep. Like, sleep sleep.”

There’s silence on the other hand as Javi thinks it over. 

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Two hours later, Javi rings on your door and you open it in your underwear and a loose t-shirt that doesn’t go past your waist. The way Javi’s eyes widen is so comical that you’d laugh if he didn’t immediately slam the door to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours as he does.

“Should’ve brought you with me… missed you so much.”

You whimper as you try to pry open his buttons. 

“I really can’t, baby…” He pulls your fingers off him, kissing each one before he lets go and rolls over onto his back. 

Next thing you know you hear his soft snores. His feet dangle from the bed and he’s still very much fully clothed. 

You give him a chaste kiss and pull the blanket over your bodies and fall asleep too.

✧

You wake up to the soft buzzing of a hair dryer and a ring of the doorbell. The room is dimmed and it’s still dark outside. You get up groggily to get the door and walk past the dining table filled with freshly prepared breakfast. Neat.

There’s no one outside when you open it, but an inconspicuous brown paper bag sits on the floor with a note attached that addresses the package to a ‘Mr. José Estrada’. What…?

“That’s for me, babe.” Javi comes out of the bathroom in a towel folded up to above his stomach and his hair uncombed. It’s… adorable. You’re still not awake enough to appreciate it and merely raise your eyebrows at the name on the bag. Javi shrugs and takes the package from you. “Clothes. Just to be careful. Mornin’.”

He leans down to kiss you but you turn away, muttering about morning breath. He snickers and goes back in to change.

Javi is still in the living room having breakfast when you emerge again, freshly showered too. He’s in a pair of slacks and a white half-buttoned shirt, like he just got home from work instead of going to it. He looks too devastatingly handsome for this early. He guides you by the back of your knees to sit on his lap and you definitely, definitely wobble.

“What are you doing today?” You ask him while he peppers kisses on your neck.

“On set for half the day. Then I’m free.” He pulls back to stroke your cheek. “Stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner.”

The implication is clear in his eyes. 

✧✧

Of course you didn’t get to find out what he was going to cook for you. What is it with the universe conspiring against you having a wholesome, uninterrupted night with this man? Okay, maybe that’s why, because you’re not really aiming for wholesome. Instead of his house, you’re at Carlotta with him and a few of his celebrity friends, including Dieter and Elise. It’s been three hours and the chatter has gone cold and the wine warm.

“...maybe it’s just like a month off? I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Apparently the other unions are considering it too.”

“What else?”

“Directors, Writers, Visual Effects, who knows what else. It’s gonna be chaotic.”

You don’t even care what’s being talked about anymore. Someone needs to get the bill before smoke comes out of your ears. You know you didn’t have to be here, of course, but you didn’t want to wait around in your room either and you were hungry. Javi had called you from set to let you know about this last minute dinner that someone arranged in the guise of business networking. Óscar still had scenes to direct and told Javi to go on his own. He knew Javi had nothing to do for the rest of the day. And Javi couldn’t exactly tell him he actually had plans with you.

You weren’t pissed initially - you were enjoying yourself, even. But the two smartly dressed thirty-something women four tables over who have been eyefucking Javi for the past half hour? The statuesque former VS model who sent him a negroni and her Ritz room key? That’s not even his drink of choice, you sneer in your head. Nice try.

You’re not jealous of them, no, Javi is going home with someone at the end of the night and it’s not with any of them. But the way he looks right now and the way that he’s wanted, turn you on so much. That pisses you off. Because this dinner couldn’t finish soon enough.

“I’m gonna drop by Loulou’s after this, you wanna come?” Elise asks next to you. “Ross is already there.”

You look over to Javi… who is signing the check, thank fucking God.

✧

Neither of you even made it to his house last night.

He’d barely parked his car, that ostentatious blue thing, in his driveway when you climbed over the console to sit on his lap.

“Thank you for dinner,” you murmured into his exquisite neck, leaving a mark with your teeth. Tacky, you knew.

“You’re the only one who’s ever said that to me,” he looked at you with a hint of wistfulness. You felt a pang in your heart at his confession.

“Of course I’m grateful, Javi.” You kissed him softly while you twisted the curls around the nape of his neck. “I’ll show you how much.”

Then his phone rang.

And it was Óscar telling Javi to go to his place for last minute rewrites, again.

So regretfully, he had to drop you at your hotel on the way. And naturally this morning you woke up really, really annoyed.

“You know what, this is ridiculous.” You call him over lunch. Room service, again.

“I agree.”

“We should clear out our schedule.”

“Let’s do that.”

“You know I mean yours, right?”

Javi sighs. “I know. I’m gonna sort that out right now. How was your sleep?”

“Eh. I’ve had better. Yours?”

“Shitty. I passed out on the floor.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. I’m getting a massage as we speak.”

“On set?”

Javi grunts and you snort in jealousy.

“Tell you what. Book a res–”

“Absolutely not. It’s never gonna happen if we go out, Javi. There’s always… something. Like… some kind of weird divine intervention.”

He giggles from the other side. Actually giggles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious.”

Which makes him fully laugh. “I’ve cleared out my week. I’m all yours.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Daphne’s or Clos Maggiore?”

“Or.”

“Baby. Come on.”

“Let’s just… have coffee or something casual. That always works for us. Right?”

✧✧

It finally works. You spend the afternoon with him watching a movie at the Electric (and he booked out the entire place) and when you both couldn’t stop fooling around in the theater anymore, you make a run for the car. 

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours. You wanted me in your bed.”

Javi wastes no time speeding to his house. It’s not a long drive, but Javi makes the most of it. He snakes his hand up your dress and rubs your inner thigh, making sure his knuckles brush along your clit while he’s at it. It drives you crazy, and by the time you arrive at his house, you’re already a panting mess. 

He leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom, and you realize you haven’t been in it before. It’s not much of a difference from the room you’ve slept in aesthetic-wise, but it’s much bigger. Easily twice the size, plus a balcony with a small garden and a door that you assume leads to the bathroom and you don’t care what else because his lips are on yours and his hands are all over you as he walks you to the bed, pinning you down on it. 

“I had better plans than this.” He croons into your ear and sucks a spot under the lobe.

You sigh into him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Javi kisses along your jaw and lightly nips your chin. You grasp his shirt in surprise and he presses you deeper into the bed, making you even closer to him. His weight almost suffocates you, in a good way.

“You look fuckable in this, but it has to go.” He hooks a thumb under the strap of your velvet slip dress, your jacket long forgotten in the car. You nod, giving him permission, and he slips it past your shoulder, then past your tits still covered in a lacy strapless bra, then finally past your hips while he kisses the trail of exposed skin along the way. Javi groans loudly when he’s eye level with your crotch and he sees that your matching panties are soaked and that it’s a fucking thong.

“You are so pretty.” Javi kisses your mound over the material and hooks the string of your barely-there thong between his fingers, as if he’s contemplating whether he should take it off or take you in it. He grabs your thigh and slightly angles you to the side, tracing slowly to the one string swallowed between your cheeks, and his hand lands on your ass with a smack.

“Ah!” You exclaim in surprise and Javi takes the string just to snap it back on you with another light smack. 

“Fucking pretty all over.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” You say breathily.

“I know, baby.” Javi murmurs in between mouthing and biting on your thigh and kneading your ass. You’re too busy sighing out your pleasure that you don’t see his other hand about to palm your mound under your panties until you feel it. Javi takes his mouth off of you and sits back on his knees to watch you squirm under his touch.

“Javi…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need you.”

“Hmm.” Javi continues grazing his fingers down to your lips, intentionally avoiding where you need him the most.

“Javi…” You fully lie on your back and spread your legs apart. “Take it off.”

Oh, how he’d love to. “I’m gonna take my time, honey.” Javi cups you over your panties and moves his palm up and down your pussy, spreading your wetness on yourself. “You made me wait. Now you wait.”

“Please, Javi. Touch me–”

“I am touching you.”

“I need you, please–”

“Love hearing you beg, baby.”

“Please please please–”

“Please what?”

You’re reduced to whimpering and you buck up your hips to meet his grounding palm. Your arousal is dripping even more now and it drives him crazy that you, the most beautiful woman that he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s wanted since that night in November, is on his bed. Begging for him.

Frustrated, you take the initiative to undo the front clasp of your bra. Javi stops his movements the moment he sees them and you swear his mouth drops open a little.

He’s had several ideas of what they would look like but his imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing. Yours are the perfect size for his hands and so soft under his touch. He runs his hand up between your cleavage before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You writhe under him, arching your back as he nibbles and laps on it and kneads the other one.

“More,” you groan.

“No,” he growls against your soft flesh.

“No?”

“Be patient.” You let out a cry when he bites your underboob. “These are so pretty, baby.”

You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair until he finally takes pity on you. He kisses the valley between your breasts before capturing your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Javi,” you whisper in between his hungry kisses. “I need t– I need to come.”

“Same here.”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

You guide his hand and let it rest between your legs, grinding onto his hand again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Just make me come, Javi. Do whatever you want with me.”

Desperation drips from your words and not only does it make him harder than before, it makes him smug too. He sits up on his knees, taking you in spread out on his bed with a hazy fucked out look on your face. And he technically hasn’t done anything yet. 

He undoes his cufflinks and pushes his sleeves up his veiny forearms. There’s something about the motion that makes him even sexier to you - and it makes you feel that way too. He pries open your thighs further and lowers his gaze down to your still covered pussy. You’ve dripped down onto his bed and he groans at the sight. He takes the strings between his fingers and slowly peels your thong off, much to your relief. He chucks it over his shoulder and drops onto his elbows. 

“You are the most fucking gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

You’re about to raise your head to see his face but before you manage to, you feel his tongue on your pussy.

“Oh, FUCK! Oh my god. Javi–” You grab a fistful of sheets under you as he slowly runs his tongue from your clit down to your entrance, and licks around your opening and tries to stick it into you. No one’s ever eaten you out like this before. It was usually one or two pathetic kitten licks before they get up and dangle their dicks in front of your face. No one is as thorough as Javi, who makes you feel his mouth and whiskers in spots of you that you didn’t know existed.

You don’t realize that you said it out loud until Javi suddenly stops and looks up at you with glistening lips… and mustache. You feel a fresh wave of wetness flooding at the sight. This is what you’ve been imagining every previous night before. 

“Seriously?”

You don’t know if he’s confused or upset by what you said. Either way, you need him to go back to what he was doing. “Yes, Javi, please don’t stop.”

“You’re telling me you don’t usually get eaten out?”

“No, uh, not like this. Never like–” Your own moans cut you off as he goes back to pleasuring you and you cry out when you feel his nose bumps your clit. You’re lost in this new feeling. It’s true. Never like this.

But with Javi? Javi is enjoying himself. He eats you out like he can’t get enough and he can’t get to all parts of you that he wants to taste. He’s slow enough for you to feel every movement his tongue is making, but he picks it up at the right pace when he feels that you need more. You feel his hand slowly squeezing your right boob, and then your eyes fly open when he suddenly puts a thick finger in you. You let out a high pitched moan and buck up to his lips.

“Fuck yeah. Be as loud as you want. You perfect little thing.” Javi shallowly thrusts it in and out of you. “Yours really didn’t fill you enough, huh?”

No. No, they didn’t. Javi’s one finger fills you so well you wonder how you’re gonna even be satisfied with yourself ever again after this. He hits the spots you never reached and makes you beg, and beg, and beg for more.

So he gives you more. He starts sucking your clit at the same time that he adds another finger into you. You don’t know what kind of noises you’re making anymore but it’s deprived enough that Javi groans into your pussy and the vibration and his hot breath make you keen even more. 

“Javi… faster, baby.”

“You’re not gonna come from my hand.” Javi says as he rolls your clit with his tongue. 

“But I’m close.” You whimper.

“I know. You’re so tight, fuck.” Javi raises his head to look at his fingers going in and out of you. They’re slick with your juices and he feels you pulsating around them whenever he drags them out, as if to keep him from not being inside you. “Think you can take my cock? Hmm?”

You gasp out a moan and he retracts his fingers completely. You’re getting too close to the edge and he doesn’t want you to come like this, no. Not by fingers or his mouth. He wants to feel you around him when you do. But that doesn’t stop him from tonguing you again and massaging your clit with his thumb until you’re panting and tugging hard on his hair that it hurts. Before you could go over the edge, he climbs over you and cages you in his arms, his mouth once again on your tits and smearing them with your wetness from his lips.

“Javi,” you grab his face in your hands and stroke his patchy, graying beard. “Please.”

You claw at his shirt, trying to open his buttons with trembling hands. He’s still fully clothed and it’s not fair. You manage to get the top two but then he untangles himself from you to stand at the foot of the bed… to rummage through his drawers.

“Fuck, uh… um… fuck.” Javi reaches into another one, turning it inside out, and starts rifling through a spare wallet he finds inside. “I don’t have condoms. Wait here. I might have some downstairs.”

You crawl over to him and stand on your knees, continuing to open his buttons. “I’m on birth control, Javi. And I haven’t been with anyone, so…”

Javi looks at you with his doe eyes, filled with lust, while you shrug his shirt off him. Are you saying…?

“I want you bare.”

Well, fuck me. If Javi weren’t already hard as rock before, then he doesn’t know what this is now. He’s never been bare with anyone since… who cares. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters except you asking him to fuck you raw and now you’re palming him over his pants and literally, the world could be burning at this moment and Javi wouldn’t give a shit about it. 

“Want you in my mouth, daddy.”

“No,” Javi groans painfully. There is no way he’s surviving tonight. “I’ll come on your face if you do that now.”

“Want that too.” You pepper him with kisses across his chest while you undo his belt and unzip his trousers. When you finally lower his pants along with his boxer briefs, your mouth waters. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be when you grabbed him in his car last week. You need him in you, right fucking now.

But first thing first… he’s gonna pay for not making you come. You’ve been so desperate since the theater and by the looks of it, he’s no different. The head of his cock is an angry red and leaking with precum. You swipe it clean with your tongue and Javi’s hand immediately finds the back of your neck. You take his hard erection in your hand and start to jerk him off slowly, building a pace that you know will drive him mad. Javi has his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed deep, holding back from thrusting into your hand. 

You lick a long stripe from his balls to his tip and elicit a low moan from him. It’s addicting, listening to him. You do it a few more times until you feel his fingers curling on you. 

“Javi…” You let go of him and kiss your way up his stomach instead. He involuntarily sucks in and opens his eyes to you slipping his cock past your lips. He doesn’t stop you. The groan that comes out of him is so sinful it’s going to be permanently etched in your brain. His hand on your neck finds your ass and kneads it when you start working him slowly with your mouth. You gag a little when he hits the back of your throat. He’s a lot to take in; you don’t even get to the hilt, and you count your blessings for that.

You’re suddenly pulled away with a pop. He’s throbbing and from his breathing, he doesn’t look like he’s going to last long.

“You’re so big, Javi. Does it feel as good as it tastes?”

You start to take him into your mouth again but he grabs your arm to haul you to the center of the bed. He settles himself on you, rubbing up and down your opening with his cock. You start to meet his movement but he pins your hips down, restricting you.

“Come on, we’ve waited long enough,” you whine.

He lets his weight fall on you completely and hums his answer with his face pressed against the crook of your neck. He keeps thrusting on your pussy and you’re so, so, so close to sobbing from need.

“Javi,” you whine again into his ear, arms clinging to his broad form.

Javi sits on his knees, watching you writhe underneath him. If he doesn’t come within one minute of being inside you, he’ll consider it a miracle. It’s his own fault for dragging it out this long and now he’s the one moments away from exploding. It’s worth it because you’re so fucking beautiful being all needy for him. 

He grabs you closer by your calves and wraps your legs around his waist, cock notched right at your entrance. Javi pushes forward and the sound he makes when he enters you is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. He works his way in slowly, letting you accommodate his girth. It’s a painful yet exquisite stretch.

You’ve never felt this full in your life. You’re not without experience, but the way Javi is filling you is something else. It’s not just his size, although that is a big part of it. It’s the way he’s gazing at you with so much tenderness. The way he’s moving as if he’s worshiping you with every stroke. The way he’s savoring this moment that you two have been waiting a ridiculously long time for. Your heart is full of–

“Baby. I don’t think I’ll last long.” Javi says with a strain in his voice. He’s holding back, with this languid (honestly, lazy) pace and he’s clenching his hands so hard you can see the veins in his forearms protruding. 

“I don’t care, Javi, just fuck me.”

He groans and starts to build a pace, gripping your thighs open. You throw your head back and hold on to the pillow closest to you. Javi’s eyes are glued to your tits bouncing by the impact of his thrusts and he tries to think of something, anything, except for the way your perfect body is responding to him right now. 

He remembers what you said about being essentially celibate since your last relationship and he doesn’t fight his curiosity. There’s a primal side of him that needs to know and the thought of your pathetic past conquests should buy him a couple more minutes, right?

“How long has it been for you, honey?”

“Mmmmm…” You roll your head back in pleasure, seemingly not hearing his question.

”When I ask something, I want an answer, sweetheart.”

“Two years? Mor–”

“Fucking unbelievable. This pussy should be fucked everyday, fuck.”

He curses between hard thrusts. Your mouth drops at his dirty talk and his pace increases to full on pounding. It doesn’t work. The thought of nothing having been inside you except for your own fingers and now him for that long is awakening something feral in him. 

You yelp. “Oh fuck yes, Javi…”

“Yeah? You’re gonna let me fuck this everyday?”

“Whenever you want. Please.”

“You’re so needy.” He looks down to where you’re joined before grabbing your ass and driving into you even harder. “So needy and sloppy and so. fucking. tight.”

The moan you let out is downright the filthiest thing he’s ever heard. And you? You barely hear his deep, delicious voice over your own moans and the sounds your bodies make. You can’t do anything but take, take, and take. You wish you could reciprocate but what leaves your mouth is only a blabber of cries and whines.

“You want to come?” Javi’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Please, baby.”

“Then touch yourself and come.”

Javi pulls out of you and you gasp from the sudden emptiness. You sit up to reach for him but he moves further to the edge of the bed, his hand fisting his cock and pinching the end slowly, trying not to lose it.

“Javi, what the fuck?” You exclaim in despair.

“Let me see you touch yourself, babe. Come like that or not at all.”

“Oh my God, Javi.” You fall back on the bed in frustration. There is no way this is happening. “No…”

“Come, and I’ll fuck you again.”

You start reluctantly touching yourself slowly, hoping he’ll take pity on you and take over again. But he stays where he is, looking at your face, not even your body.

“If that’s how you touch yourself, no wonder you’re unsatisfied. Come on, make yourself feel good.”

You groan in defeat and he chuckles at you amusingly. Fine. You dip two fingers into your pussy and start moving them the way you usually do, and your other hand drops to your clit to rub it with your index finger. Your peak is approaching in no time, between your own familiar movements and watching Javi watching you. You start to arch off the bed when you’re close and suddenly your hands are taken off you and you’re flipped onto your hands and knees. 

Javi thrusts back inside you from behind without warning and resumes pounding you in earnest. “That’s right baby, take it… like you wanted… so fucking good for me…”

You come with a silent scream and Javi lets out a pained moan from you fluttering and spasming around his cock. His hands grip your waist to the point of almost hurting and he keeps steadily thrusting into you to seek his own release while you ride yours out.

He pulls you up against his chest by wrapping his arm around your tits and keeps hitting that devastatingly delicious spot inside you. With a few thrusts it starts you up again and you grind back on him, feeling the bump of his stomach on the small of your back with each contact. You look over your shoulder at his face and see that he’s in absolute bliss, but there’s something else there that’s a little bit… off. You don’t get to think too much about it once his fingers reach down to your clit and you start to tighten around his cock again, your hand reaching back to grab at his curls. 

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Fuck. Come with me. Come with me, honey.” Javi’s pace grows desperate and he’s so deep, so right inside you that you beat him to it. You shudder in his arms, going limp, but he doesn’t let up. “Tell me where.”

You sigh dreamily while you catch your breath. “Anywhere you want, daddy.” 

He pulls out and pushes you lightly to get back on your hands and knees and spills himself on the small of your back and between your cheeks. You lay down flat on your stomach, evening out your breaths, inhaling in the mixed scent of the two of you. 

It takes Javi a couple of minutes to collect himself before he kisses along your shoulder, up to your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips.

“You’re so fucking good, babe. Tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You giggle tiredly and lean onto him, welcoming his kisses while he cleans you up with his discarded shirt. “I need a drink. Then I want to ride you.”

✧

For the next four days, you barely leave the bed except to eat or use the bathroom. Just like Javi had promised. He didn’t get to cook dinner for you yet, because it’ll take too much time away from being inside of you. Everyday it’s like clockwork: one of you wakes the other up with your mouth, followed by breakfast in bed, or vice versa. Then shower, where he eats you out - he insists that he’s making up for your lost time. In the afternoons, Javi does some work while you read scripts or his books or nap. Then dinner, followed by fucking each other to sleep. Sometimes you interrupt him mid-task or wake him up in the middle of the night just because. And repeat.

It’s pure fucking bliss.

✧✧

“Javi. Fuck.”

“What’s up?”

“Everything is shutting down. Everything. Where the fuck are you?” Óscar’s voice sounds panicked through the phone. 

“I’m on leave, remember? What do you mean?”

“Strike, Javi. It’s all over the news. We gotta reschedule everything. We’re not even allowed to do anything.”

Javi swiftly opens his news app and sure enough, Óscar’s right. How did he miss this? Oh, right.

“Javi!!!”

“I’m here.”

“What do we do?”

Javi thinks for a moment but absolutely nothing comes to mind. This is completely novel for him. “We’ll figure it out. How long is this supposed to go on?”

“Two weeks. A month tops.”

“So there’s nothing to do. Keep everyone around, keep everyone updated, the usual.”

“We can’t, Javi. We’re not allowed to. We should just let them go for now, go see their families. They can’t be employed right now, same for us, by the way.”

“Dammit,” Javi runs a hand over his face. He’s only ever shut down production once, during The Last Sicario, when a rival family member felt misrepresented by his depiction of them and sent death threats to him and the crew. “Call it. Keep me posted.”

“Sure. One more thing, have you heard from our little starlet? I tried calling her all day, and her PA couldn’t reach her either. Her hotel said she’s not there.”

“Staying with a friend, maybe?” Javi feigns cluelessness.

“Can you try her? Let her know we’ll help her figure it out while this is going on.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks, hermano.”

Guilt overcomes him once he hangs up and looks at you sleeping soundly, and naked, next to him. He’s betraying the closest friend he ever had and there would be no coming back from this if he found out. 

✧✧✧

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#fic: indiscreet #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi g fanfiction #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi g x reader #javi g x you #pedrostories #pedro pascal smut #dieter bravo #the bubble #hollywood au

[infinity-or-oblivion]

so my loa batkids au has gained a little traction and i’ve hit a bit of a wall when it comes to writing new stuff so here’s an infodump to hopefully kill my writers block xoxoxo

first of all, jason. my forever number one blorbo. there’s a bit of a role reversal here because compared to all the rest of them, jason arguably had it the easiest. like we’re not going to compare traumas but an argument could be made. i honestly don’t remember if i mentioned it at all in the actual series yet, but the story i have for jason is that his childhood with willis and catherine was about the same as canon/commonly accepted fanon, meaning he was homeless around nine years old. however, instead of living on the streets for years, it was only a few months tops before meeting bruce.

and bruce! this is very fun to me, but basically i was thinking that if he didn’t raise dick, then why couldn’t this version of bruce be younger? so bruce becomes batman in his early twenties, which is also around the time that he visits the league of assassins for training and damian is conceived. (for a little more about that, here) and bruce is roughly 25 when he finds a tiny 9-10 year old jason trying to steal his tires. just imagine that it’s so fucking adorable and heartbreaking ANYWAYS bruce, despite being overall a disaster, doesn’t let a malnourished 10 year old out to fight crime right away, so there’s a couple years between when jason first meets bruce and when he becomes a child soldier yayyyy!!!! but legit, it makes a lot of difference to jason, because you know how canon!jason has some self-esteem issues (for lack of a better term) around bruce not really loving him/seeing him as a son because bruce started training him as robin (and as dick’s replacement) immediately after adopting him- you know that whole thing? yeah well here, despite jason actually offering to help bruce as a vigilante, this bruce is like hell nah you’re literally ten years old and the size of a six year old no way, and those few years in between really stick in jason’s mind as solid proof that bruce really does love him, not for what use he can provide, but simply as a son. also being the only child definitely helps with that

(that little detail of jason and bruce’s relationship is slightly inspired by minimum height requirement, which is absolute batfam gold btw)

okay so. slight pet peeve of mine is in aus where dick isn’t the first robin, the legacy is still called robin for whatever reason (lookin at you reverse robins aus) because!!!!! how dare you erase mary and john grayson’s importance!!!!! (look there’s more nuance to it than that i know but. to put it simply it feels like flying graysons erasure to me) so in this au, jason can’t possibly be called robin. the real robin has been missing for roughly seven years at this point

and listen. i tried to be creative and come up with something cool and original for jason’s vigilante name i really did, but apparently i used all of my naming talent on nighthawk (fucking love that name for dick it’s so fantastic) so we just have bluejay. womp womp

also! on my list of things to expand on: main timeline stephanie!!! i’ve had an absolute blast making myself cry while writing every heart sings a song, incomplete and those who wish to sing always find a song, but spoiler steph will always be my babygirl. and duke!!!! i have not written barely anything for duke in this universe but believe me i have some Thoughts. perhaps even Ideas. basically a lot of steph&duke and steph&babs and steph&duke&babs because i love my little underrated trio

also just more babs in general, because like. i’ve had so many tiny little snippets of cass and babs and their sweet little relationship just sitting in my notes for literal years now that i really just need to organize and expand into their own fic. and yet. i have not done that. but rest assured cass&babs are very very important to me

such is the curse of female fanfic writers: always destined to fixate more on the male poor little meow meows than the female bad bitches. seriously what the fuck is up with that guys i don’t get it why does this happen

#so yeah. infodump on my silly little au #and my silly i mean i make myself cry every time i write #league of assassins #batman #batfam #jason todd #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #duke thomas #barbara gordon #who else did i mention #don’t worry i have plenty of things to say about tim and damian and dick #yeah #my writing #i don’t remember if i have a writing tag lmao #it’s not like i use tumblr regularly anymore

[sirowsky-stories]

The Old Prince

Part 13

Author's Note: It's been an intense week for me, my loves, (I quit my job of 9 years!) so this was severely delayed, but here you are!

Description: You're forced to make a really tough decision, and as the war rages, you finally realize what it's gonna take to win.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, AU fic, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses. Angst. Severe injuries. Word Count: 6427 Author's Masterlist

   You’re not quite sure how Simon’s managing to change the oceans so quickly, unless he’s concentrating all his efforts solely on the Atlantic, not trying to expand in all directions at once. Still, there is a lot of ocean to get through, and he’s advancing terrifyingly fast, turning thousands of square meters of the water into the same goop you saw in the Mexican Gulf, every few seconds.

   This is what allows him to stay at the front of his army, riding a bizarre wave of dead things at the head of his legion, while Oberyn circles above, keeping just under the shadow of the cloud, as if itching to reach new land to destroy.    Seeing him sends shards of glass through your heart. He’s not a spirit, which means your light won’t be able to save him, and you have to be prepared to kill him if you wanna win this war. There’s no other way this ends.

   But no matter how badly changed he is, you still see your beloved prince when you look at him. Your heart won’t stop choosing to see the love he gave you. It just won’t.    His gift will live on in you for as long as you survive this world, and in Day for the rest of all time, which is the only comfort you can find while you stand there in front of the now once more glowing lighthouse, waiting for the storm to hit.

   He is lost. But not gone. You can still save one small part of him.

   The cloud reaches over your heads just as the last rays of sunlight fade from the sky, no doubt a precisely calculated time-plan on Simon’s part, but the dragon pulls back then, remaining above the mass of the army as the gunk which replaces the sea makes landfall.    You guess that he’s being held back so he won’t kill too many people before they can be converted and added to the ranks, but it makes no difference as the island itself rejects their arrival.

   It’s more than a little satisfying to see the Darkling literally fall over when his wave of death is brought to an abrupt stop, as if hitting a wall, once it tries to spill over land.    You can’t help but grin smugly at him when he glares at you while getting back up, which of course, only further angers him.    But there’s no use. The light holds.

   “That’s a neat little trick, Lux. But you won’t keep me out forever,” he growls, and the slight tone of incredulity in his voice tells you this is something he hadn’t anticipated.

   Which must mean your spirit has never managed something like this before.

   “I thought you were the new and improved dark one. The best one ever,” you taunt, feeling a tad superior to have finally found an angle he can’t immediately break through. “I thought you knew all my tricks and had already figured out how to counter them.”

   “Like I said, it’s just a matter of time.”

   You refrain from replying that you can reach around the entire world like this, since angering him further isn’t gonna do you any favors.    Then Oberyn’s flame suddenly drops on you from above. As if spewed from one of those airplanes with water-tanks, used to combat wildfires, it cascades over the entire western coastline.    The dragon is sick of waiting for his cue, it seems.

   You can protect the island from the dark forces, which means he can’t land or swipe at people or animals on the ground, but his fire is just fire. Neither belonging to light nor darkness.    The people aren’t frightened of it, so they just stand there as it hits them, melting their bodies in mere seconds.

   If you don’t do something, the entire island will be destroyed. But the only thing you can do is try to kill the dragon.    The thought fills you with pain and sorrow, and Simon immediately senses it.

   “Poor little Boo. How awful it must be to know you have to kill your lover if you want to save these pitiful people.”

   You can feel him prodding at your mind, trying to slip past the light so he can disrupt your power, but you’ve been down this road before and you’re still immune to him.    Flooding your mind with all the happy memories, all the curious conversations in the beginning of your time at the castle, the immediate connection you’d felt with Oberyn and how it had eventually blossomed into love, you shove Simon out of your being with such force that it once again unbalances him.

   And when the dragon lines up for his next run, you use your connection to all the people around you to increase the strength of your beam, before unleashing it from your chest.    It hits him at the base of his throat before he veers off, but you maintain the beam, chasing after him until you’ve hit him again, leaving a glowing trail along his spine.    He crashes somewhere to the northwest, and the sea of malice swallows him whole.

   It’ll heal him, you know it will. He isn’t nearly damaged enough to be out of the game, but it gives you a while to think. And what you think is that you can’t fight a war by being only defensive.    Your enemy can and will wait practically forever for your barriers to fall. His army isn’t dependent on food and water to survive, whereas yours is.

   The only offensive measure in your arsenal is your light-beam but it won’t be enough to decimate Simon’s forces. You need to find a way to put a weapon in the hands of every living thing you’re connected to. But how?    While you’re working that problem, the Darkling continues to let his evil spread through the ocean, killing millions of water-dwelling creatures in the process, and when you see the black goo travel past the island, you suddenly wonder why your light hasn’t seemed to reach the underwater population at all.

   Reaching out towards Europe, you try to feel if your powers seem to have reached into the landlocked rivers and lakes, but the only answer you find is no.    Which means, given time, all water on the planet will eventually be infected and undrinkable, killing everything no matter how much light you try and infuse things with.    If you can’t find a way to protect the water, you’ll lose.

   You can’t see Caelum anywhere, so you have to assume she’s hiding and waiting for her moment to strike. But you’re also highly aware the other spirits are absent as well, meaning Simon knows you can restore them and is keeping them out of your reach.    Fuck!    You need more time. There are too many unanswered questions.

   Then something unexpected happens. A person on the beach below you loses his light, and the darkness instantly swallows him through the gap in your armor, giving it a foothold on the island. It can’t spread any further unless more people give in to it, but it still worries you.    The dark one must be whispering to them, reaching into their minds just like he tried to do with you and just like you expected him to. But you didn’t expect him to succeed in persuading anyone so quickly. It’s only been minutes…

   One problem at a time, that’s as much as you can work on, and right now, weapons take priority. You need a way to distribute light through something other than yourself.    Another person falls, further inland, leaving a second beast in her place. It writhes and screeches, clawing at the invisible barriers which contain it, already hungry. Desperate to consume.

   Consume… wait, that’s it!    Using your hand, you shoot a highly concentrated beam at the newly formed creature down on the beach, turning him into glowing dust. Your light has now consumed and transformed him, just like the darkness does to the living. Except the dust he becomes also becomes a part of you, because it’s light.

   Out of seemingly nowhere, Caelum suddenly swoops down over you, heading straight for the glowing dust and then beating her wings against it, sending it flying off over the blackened sea.    Taking the opportunity given, you attempt to amplify the light of those little specks as they disperse, and it works.

   Like fireworks, each and every particulate becomes a sizzling little bomb, which when it hits a creature of the dark, multiplies and creates a chain reaction which kills thousands in mere seconds.    Simon manages to stop its rampant progression by throwing masses of thick vines in its path, essentially drowning the fireworks. But this time, you’re the one who can sense his fear growing, because this is an effective weapon, and one he won’t be able to wait out or prevent.

   There’s no reason to hold back, so as soon as the first volley is extinguished, you launch a second one, and Caelum is right there, helping you disperse it with her microbursts of powerful winds. This time, you use both hands separately and aim your beam along as much of the front lines of the dark army as you can endure, before your hands are once again charred.    But it pays off. The chain reaction which follows is massive, destroying at least a tenth of Simon’s army before he can halt it.

   Then, just as the battlefield grows louder with the shrieks of anger from the decimated forces, there’s a rumble from below the semi-solid surface of the black ooze, and then Oberyn comes thrashing out of it.    It holds him back, weighing him down with its oily muck, leaving him struggling to get his wings up, having to beat them hard repeatedly before enough of the shit has been removed to allow him to take off.

   He comes straight at you, fully aware that you’re the one who brought him down and obviously eager to retaliate.    It takes less than a second of seeing his distorted and enraged face glare at you, before your mind reverts into thoughts of grief and despair, and just like earlier, the moment you do, the Darkling pounces and tries to invade your mind.    You’re not threatened by it, but it does scatter your resolve, leaving you frozen.

   It tortures you. Seeing this, knowing that it’s your Oberyn but you’ll never get to see him proudly glide across the skies again. Knowing you’re the one who has to end him.    There isn’t enough light in the universe to keep those thoughts away.    He closes in so fast, and yet it seems to happen infinitely slowly. Jaws wide and the churning heat within, trained solely on you, needing to destroy with such desperation.

   You wonder if there’s more behind it.    His very existence depends on your obliteration, that much is easy to conclude, but somehow, you feel as though this need is fed by more than just the fear of death.    It was the fear of losing you which brought him here, so it stands to reason the same fear is still what ultimately controls him, even if his memories are gone.    But none of this really matters. It’s just thoughts, coming to you now as your own desperation is brought to a head. A last attempt to put off the unthinkable… but inevitable.

   Stop..

   An image flashes before your eyes, obscuring the jaws which are about to reach you, and you hear your own voice whispering inside your head, just as it had sounded back then, while something occurs to you on instinct.    You’d made it stop that day in Detroit. The creature attacking the policemen. But it hadn’t been sunlight you’d put in its way.    Once again you scream the word, not as loud as you can, but with all the might you possess… and the dragon stops.

   He’s brought to a halt so abruptly that he flinches backwards and then crashes down onto the beach below you as if an invisible rope had snared and pulled him down.    You look up, checking if there are reinforcements on the way to try and aid the dragon, only to see Simon’s face contort into pure rage at the sight of his presumed perfect weapon against you flailing as he tries to get back up.    But the monster makes no attempt to help his minion.

   Turning back to Oberyn, your breath is suddenly stifled as pain floods your being with the knowledge of what you’re about to do. He’s helpless to defend himself while you hold him down, pinning him to the sands as you try to prepare. Except there is no preparing for this. No amount of conditioning is going to make this one damned bit easier.    You need to touch him to finish it, so although it’s the last thing you want to do, you start to walk down towards the beach.

   He thrashes against the invisible chains you have wrapped around him, screeching through his ruined throat for his master to save him, but the dark one isn’t going to spare his resources on a lost cause.    Whether he knows what you’re doing or not, he knows he’s powerless to stop it.

   “Shhh…” you soothe, making your way to the once so mighty king of the skies, and his writhing eases up a little. “It’s gonna be alright.”

   By the time you’re standing in front of him, he’s completely stopped moving, laying his head down in the sand, staining the tiny crystals black with the oil that seeps from his ruined skin.

   “It wasn’t the sun which stopped that creature in Detroit,” you explain, even though you know he doesn’t have the ability to understand you anymore.

   You just need to. One last conversation. Your final chance to ever say anything to him again.

   “It was conviction. In that moment, I truly believed myself strong enough to stand up to something so evil. And I believed it so completely, so fiercely, that my voice reached into its dead brain and sparked the idea that maybe there is something more powerful than darkness.    That’s all it took to stop it in its tracks. Just an idea. The barest hint of a flaw in the fabric of reality woven by the evils of this world.”

   Taking one final step, you lay your hands on the tip of his nose, ignoring the thick, oily goo you sink into slightly, and which starts to trickle down your lower arms in sluggish dribbles.

   “Such a simple thing. And yet, I couldn’t convince you of it. Because around you, I didn’t think I had to be that person. With you, I thought I could just be… human,” you shrug unhappily, giving yourself just a few seconds to let the tears fall. “I should’ve known better.”

   He watches you, giving no indication that anything you say is affecting him, and even though you knew it wouldn’t, it still hurts you to know he’ll never look at you with those big brown, adoring eyes again.    Light flows through your hands and your chest, and you watch as he slowly dissolves before your eyes, until all that’s left is the glowing dust. And the love of your life is truly gone.

   Pain overwhelms you, bringing you to your knees, but there’s no longer any fear within you.    The worst thing that could ever have happened, has already happened.

   What’s left is agony and loneliness, but this doesn’t concern you, because you now know those feelings won’t take away your love or your hope. That they don’t eliminate positivity, but each exist alongside one another instead.    You now realize both are born from the same place. Equal parts of the same core, and each vital for the existence of the other.    And this understanding makes you truly untouchable to the Darkling.

   But you can’t force this kind of understanding on other people. It’s not something one can be taught, so there’s no way for you to render others equally untouchable.    Oberyn’s final act was to make you invincible against the darkness, not so that you can singlehandedly stop it, but so that the forces of light will always have a leader.    No matter how long this war rages.

   “You may have temporarily weakened me, Boo,” Simon snarls then, “but so long as the spirits belong to me, you will lose.    I have all of eternity to wait for you to recognize that.”

   With those words, he and his army retreats, although the Atlantic remains ruined after their departure.    He’s not defeated, not even close. He’ll regroup and head for another coast, another continent to try and infect, and he’ll keep doing that for however long he has to.    Because he’s right. Without the spirits, you’ll never stand a chance.

   As if knowing you’re thinking about her, Caelum comes to your side and lands in the sand beside you.

   “We can’t let him drag this out,” you say through the tears and the snot which has accumulated in your nose, while you follow your enemy’s departure with your gaze. “I don’t know how, but we need to free your sisters and we need to do it soon.”

   In your periphery, you see her nod decisively, probably also aware the longer this takes, the more people will eventually succumb to the darkness no matter how diligently you try to safeguard them. And perhaps even more importantly; the more of nature will be destroyed.    As you stand there, a plan begins to take form inside your mind, and you wonder if she somehow speaks to you, because you don’t feel like all of this is coming from you.

   “Has it ever been this bad before?” you ask her, turning to meet her eyes now.

   She holds your gaze for a few moments, but if she replies, you can’t tell. You don’t know if she even remembers things from as far back as the last dark one, but you also feel like whether she does or not, she’s no longer the same thoughtless entity of raw emotion she’s meant to be.    Her stoic stillness somehow feels like an answer, though, and not a good one.    But however bad you might try to imagine things could get from this point; nothing could’ve prepared you for how truly awful they would become.

--=¤=--

   You sigh heavily as you feel another person die. Not by the Darkling’s hand, though, this was natural causes. A young man somewhere on the northern Australian continent, you’re not sure exactly where.    It stopped being important a while ago. The exact locations. They’re all just losses.    Caelum senses it too, and you feel her sorrow, which annoys you. You’re not sure when you stopped being able to grieve the lost ones anymore, but it seems like a long time ago.

   You still care, perhaps even too much. Because each and every one who dies feels like your failure, but after so long and so much death, it’s gotten harder and harder to let yourself feel it. To let your love for the world carry your burdens and lighten your heart.    It’s so hard when you’re connected to everything, because people die, in all sorts of ways, every minute of every day. And even if it isn’t traumatic or horrible, even if they just die in their sleep, you feel all of them as they leave the light.

   How long has it been? How many deaths have you felt at this point?    The fight takes you all over the world, so time-zones have stopped having any meaning to you. You battle the dark for as long as you can, and then you find a place to rest, sleeping for what you assume are a few hours, and then you get back to work.    That’s the routine. Day after day.

   The world fights with you, holding off the black hurricane and the senseless death it protects, even when you sleep. Determined not to fail, feeding off the light you still pour into it with as much hope as you can muster.    But for all their courage and strength, Simon’s power has not been weakened. You’ve made almost no progress in recovering anything he’s already corrupted, leaving the American continents his adult playground.

   He’s frustrated, though. You can tell. His need to consume makes him crave fresh bodies. Living things to torture the light out of so he can feed his stale existence and give it purpose.    His army is restless, spending its time tearing at itself in search of relief from such a pointless existence, needing to tear, rip, destroy something. At times it gets bad enough that they even start dismembering themselves, further mutating their bodies as the removed limbs grow back even more distorted.

   Time, it seems, is no more their friend than it is yours.

   Caelum has changed as well. She’s no longer limited to non-verbal communication, having learned not just how to speak telepathically with you, but how to remember things from one moment to the next.    Ordinarily, she shouldn’t be capable of thought or reasoning of any kind, but circumstances have forced her to evolve.

   “Please, stop,” you ask her without saying a word out loud, when she continues to grieve for the dead man, and her sharp eyes refocus on you.

   “You are the one who recognizes the strength of caring,” she chides, not for the first time.

   “I’m aware. But lingering on the dead won’t help, will it?”

   She doesn’t respond to that, but something about her gaze makes you feel guilty.

   “I just mean we need to keep looking ahead, find solutions. We’re not a single step closer to ending this war and it’s been… how long now?” you ask, genuinely trying to work it out but coming up short.

   “Three and a half years,” she replies, and for a moment you just stare blankly at her.

   Your own assessment was off by about an entire year.

   “Fuck…” you sigh, bowing your head in recognition of your absolute failure.

   It’s the fifth time since that day you’re back on Faial Island, standing in front of the lighthouse and looking out over the Atlantic.    You had eventually figured out how to heal the ocean, and all water, once Simon had left, so today it glistens blue against the horizon to the west. It turned out that all you had to do was change the wavelength of your light for it to travel through water.    But that’s also about as much as you’ve accomplished.

   The plan you’d once had, to try and sneak back into the States and covertly reach some of the spirits by using your conviction to gain control over a darkened creature and use it as cover, had failed on multiple occasions, leaving you scratching your head for some other idea.    Brute force wasn’t gonna work, because as much as the world would stand behind you, they couldn’t operate offensively and would be of little help to you. And powerful though you are, even if you could muscle your way past an entire army, you still can’t kill Simon.

   But somewhere deep inside you, there’s a glimmer. A truth, or knowledge, you’re not sure which.    What you do know is that this glimmer is the answer, if you can just tap into it and learn what it’s trying to tell you. Because there is a way to win, you’ve never doubted that, and you never will. You just need to find it.

   “Hey,” a voice quietly greets from behind you, and you recognize it as Andreia.

   She comes to stand next to you, and you glance at her with a polite nod and small smile. She always comes to see you whenever she sees you arrive by the lighthouse where she still works.    That’s another thing which seems very odd to you. How the world still has to keep going as usual, even with the truest evil trying to devour it. How the stock market has been affected by Americas destruction, how the politics of the world have shifted.

   It feels like all that should’ve just stopped. Been put on indefinite hold while you all band together and fight. But that’s not how it works.    Oddly enough, the planet has probably never seen a more peaceful time in all its existence, with the entire population so devoted to hope. There are no ongoing conflicts, virtually no crime even on the smallest scale of offences, and people are generally behaving more helpfully and tolerantly.

   What a strange world this is, where the end of this war will see it return to those darker traits in very little time.

   “Any progress?” she asks, following your gaze across the sea.

   “No, not yet. I’m… stuck. In my head, you know?” you ponder, grateful to have someone other than the owl to talk to, just because humans relate to you better and understand things which no spirit can. “I keep trying to look at the problem from new angles, looking for something I could’ve missed, but as much as I know in my fucking bones there is an answer, I just can’t find it.”

   “Maybe you need to write it down.”

   At first, you dismiss her suggestion, since you can’t see what difference it would make, but when she continues to explain her reasoning, you start to come around.

   “It activates a different part of your brain, which sometimes helps with problem solving.    Singing does too, but I don’t think there is a song for this situation.”

   “I don’t know. People have been making music for ages, covering every topic under the sun. I’m sure if we looked hard enough, we could find something eerily appropriate,” you shrug, laughing lightly at the subject.

   Ever since you lost Oberyn, laughter hasn’t come as easily for you as before. It’s harder to let yourself be happy when he can’t be there to share it with you.    But it’s also so important that you do hold on to the good moments and allow their brightness to infect you.

   “How about… Ironic by Alanis Morissette”, she offers, making you snicker.

   “Definitely. Or Everybody by Backstreet Boys.”

   She hums approvingly, and a few more songs are exchanged between you, getting more and more ludicrous.

   “Mr. Brightside by The Killers. I mean, come on, both the song and the group are appropriate,” you suggest, and by now you’re both struggling against incessant giggling.

   “Lose Yourself…” Andreia replies, but then forgets the artist for a second, “…by uh…Eminem!”

   But your laughter dies then. Partly because while the song does fit the theme overall, the message you’ve always taken away from it is simply about living in the moment and appreciating what you have, however unimportant or insignificant it might seem to someone else, which doesn’t really fit with going to war against ancient evil.    And partly because of how the woman herself doesn’t seem to know why she chose that song at all. The moment she said it, confusion flashed over her features and with every second since, she looks increasingly befuddled.

   “Lose yourself,” you repeat on impulse, but this time saying it as a suggestion to yourself.

   Immediately, there’s a strange little click inside your head, and then the glimmer suddenly comes into full focus, so distinct now that you know it.    How did you never think of it before? Oberyn even said it to you, in your final conversation on your way north from Antarctica.

   You cannot possibly think that anything but giving it everything you have is going to be enough to free them all.

   Every word he ever spoke to you or around you, lives in your mind, remembered in such vivid detail you can even recall the slight tremor in his voice as he’d said it.

   “Andreia,” you say, turning to face her and pulling her into a tight hug which she bewilderedly reciprocates. “Thank you. You may have just saved everyone.”

   You pull back and smile at her, but before she can say anything, Caelum picks you up and flies off with you, having heard you call out to her in your mind the moment the realization hit you.

   “Am I to head west, then, Lightbringer?” she asks even as she aligns her beak to the shrouded horizon.

   “Yes. It’s time to end this,” you answer out loud, because these words should be heard. The time for sneaking around and whispering between shielded minds is over. “I finally know how to free your sisters.”

   Your once again brimming confidence rubs off on the owl, and she sets a nearly impossible speed, excited by the prospect of seeing her fellow spirits restored to their rightful glory.    It doesn’t take long before you’re back underneath the poisonous cloud, and right away you can tell that it’s changed since your last visit, maybe a year and half earlier.    The air is so thick with soot and ash that it clings to your skin and colors you black, while also wreaking havoc on your lungs in mere minutes.

   Undoubtedly, this is what the entire world would eventually become, once all life had been consumed and all that was left for the armies of death to occupy themselves, was to torture each other, flooding the air with their oily blood and mutated skin cells.    You’re grateful to know that this will never come to pass, while you cough up some of the black goo which has already begun to accumulate in your throat and lungs.    It doesn’t harm you since you’re continually healing the damage it does, but it hurts more than one might imagine.

   Looking up, you can see that Caelum isn’t affected by it, beyond how it obscures her sight, so you do your best to help her navigate by trying to get a sense of where Simon is.    You find him quite quickly, detecting a massive surge of energy as he realizes his enemy is back. Which is probably the only thing he’s had to be excited about in a very long time.    Directing the spirit there, you instruct her to drop you from an altitude high enough that she’ll be safe even if Octopus should be around and attempt to reach her with its enormous tentacles.

   “Such a fall will break many of your bones,” she notes, not really out of concern, but more like she’s just making sure you know.

   “I’m aware. It’ll be fine.”

   The weightlessness is strangely liberating. Instead of falling, it makes you feel like you’re soaring, maybe because of how hopeful your realization has made you. But still no more than a trick of the mind.    Hitting the ground removes the illusion when your legs completely shatter, all the way up to your hips, and fractures to your spine, ribs and arms make themselves known moments later.

   You can still move, though, and as you feel Simon approach, you manage to claw yourself up to a seated position, finding that ignoring the pain is easier than you’d thought this time, which gives you comfort even as your enemy reaches you, sporting a large smirk on his disfigured face.    Whatever’s been going on here for the past three years, he’s clearly begun to mutate himself, because his features aren’t entirely recognizable as human anymore.

   He still has two legs and arms, and only one head, but the true shape of the Darkling has started to emerge, and it’s fucking hideous.

   “Eww… the hell happened to you?” you ask, breathing hard through the pain, but otherwise mostly disgusted by his appearance.

   Unlike his minions, the dark one is dry. His skin is a pale grey and where it’s cracked from the lack of moisture, mostly on his arms and hands but everywhere else too, there are miniature faces growing out of his flesh. Not like images of faces, but rather as though tiny people are actually trapped inside of him, trying to crawl out through the gaps but held back by some thin, partly transparent film.    He’s at least ten feet tall now, so there’s much more space for these trapped people to crowd around, but they’re still fighting each other for room.

   “You don’t like it?” he asks, and even his voice is unrecognizable. “This is my collection. The ones I like the most get to live inside me. The ones who are the most frightened… they make such delightful music inside my mind.”

   You were hoping it wasn’t what it looks like, but clearly, it is. He probably grows larger with each soul he devours, and since he couldn’t have infected any new people for a long time, these must be his own creatures.    Which would mean, once the mutated body is destroyed, the original human soul is still there, to some extent.    But not in a way that would enable them to be restored. Their bodies are gone and no power on earth could bring them back. But at least the destruction of the Darkling will set them free.

   “You’re using them to protect yourself.. aren’t you?” you ponder, trying to buy time for the spirits to reveal themselves, but also hoping to understand more about him, since that will help you take him down. “You cover yourself with them to make it harder for anyone to reach your dead heart.”

   “Well, of course. Who’s gonna try and reach into this mess of scared little people, so desperate to escape their hell, they’ll crawl into the skin of anyone who touches me, driving that person mad.    Ingenious, wouldn’t you say?”

   “I suppose. In a devilish sort of way.”

   “You will make a very nice addition to the flock…” he pauses, and puts a finger to his lips as if trying to think of something which evades him, “…oh, what was it Oberyn called you? I only heard it once, but it was something Egyptian, wasn’t it?”

   You don’t really wanna hear that name spoken by anyone else, but since you’re still not sensing any spirits, you play along.

   “Kaivalya.”

   “Ah, yes! Freedom. How insulting a name to give to a creature whose entire life has been doomed to this ending from before she was even born,” he laments, putting on a very noticeably fake tone of compassion just to irritate you.

   His voice already grates your eardrums. It’s so dry and course he can’t get much volume to it, but it still manages to cut straight into your brain with how it breaks on the high notes.    The fake sentiment only manages to mildly annoy you in comparison.

   “It was a promise…” you spit through teeth held tight against the pain of your legs trying to realign themselves so that the bones can be set, only to hurt more when the angles they’re trapped in won’t allow the movements.

   “A promise? That old prince promised you freedom, and you believed him?!” Simon squeals before starting to laugh, further abusing your ears.

   “No,” you counter, once you’ve adapted to the new level of pain. “He didn’t promise me freedom… He couldn’t have, because I was never his prisoner.    He named me Freedom because that’s what I gave to him. A heart free to love again.”

   You can tell he’s about to counter, it’s easy because his smirk returns every time his own thoughts amuse him, but you’re done with this distraction so you continue before he can.

   “That’s what you took from him. I gave him this amazing gift… and you ripped it out of him.”

   “Prince Martell sealed his own fate by allowing his fears to rip him apart,” he challenges, no longer smirking, though. “He was so scared for you. So worried you’d lose and he’d have to live on without you.    And so, the coward you loved, the man who knew better than anyone how important it would be to keep hope alive in the time of the Darkling, chose to die rather than fight for you.”

   Fuck. He’s found your weak spot and thrown a knife into it.    You shouldn’t care what he says but you can’t help how his words cut through you, because they’re the same ones you’ve battled with in your nightmares. The same ones you’ve been unable to answer ever since it first dawned on you that he’d turned.    Why did he give in? He knew what would happen. How could he leave himself so vulnerable?

   But this is why you’re here. To set things right, no matter what happened in the past. You’ll never get those answers, so all you can do is let the questions go.    And just as you begin to calm yourself, you feel it.    They’re coming. He’s summoned them to watch as he devours you. And to protect him, should you have some trick up your sleeve.

   “Tell me something, Si…” you start, giving them time to come closer before you get this over with. “Did you really think you’d ever get me to surrender to you?    Is that what all this flaunting of your achievements is meant to do? To win me over?”

   He sours while he listens, clearly unable to think of a witty comeback because you’re right. He absolutely thought that this, beating you, would be such a triumph you wouldn’t be able to resist admiring him.

   “I’m the fucking goddess of all light, you prick. I was never gonna bow to you, you’re nothing but a shadow under the bed, a cockroach hiding in the bottom of the sink.    You named me Boo, remember? Because even back then, I was better than you.”

   You’re not actually trying to antagonize him, you just really wanted to give him a piece of your mind before you get this show going.    But true to form, he’s enraged by your insults and comes at you with his arms raised and ready to beat you into the ground.    The nine all are there, too far away for your eyes to make them out in the dark and dusty air, but close enough that you can feel them, standing in a circle around you and their master.    And Caelum circles directly above you, just as you’d asked her.

   “Don’t hesitate,” you tell her, as you watch Simon measure his first punch.

   “Your sacrifice will not be in vain… Kaivalya,” she replies, and unlike the Darkling, her use of your most beloved name shows you just how much she respects you.

   Nothing else is said between you. Nothing more is needed.

The Ten Spirits of the World Air - Forest - Water - Stone - Night - Autumn - Winter - Spring - Summer.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you wish to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

@harriedandharassed @kittenlittle24 @joelswritingmistress @pedrostories

#oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn x reader #prince oberyn #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones au #au fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #halloween writing #spooky season fic #halloween fic #sirowsky stories

[cocainegirlsnblunts]

Smoothies In 1991

Jack Harlow - Officially meeting Jack

Interviewer: So can you two tell us where you first met and what were your first impressions on each other.

you started cracking up thinking about that day.

10/27/21.

After 2019 you weren’t so much in the spotlight, only because you chose too. You liked to be as private as possible and your work already got the recognition it deserved. Plus you’ve already done a few interviews here and there.

You were struggling with a lot at the time and the only option you had was to take a break from your career. You stayed lowkey, stopped posting, and anytime you were in a picture or anything it was RARE.

But anyway, 2021 you started to plan your comeback and so your friend Cole posted you on your Birthday

@colebennett ✓⃝

liked by madisonbeer, chanteljeffries, mariahthescientist and 238,595 others

colebennett happy 22nd birthday twin

And Cole has worked with many people, including Jack Harlow. Who you didn’t even know really but Cole had the amazing idea to take him to the Birthday Party your lovely Best Friend, Kali Uchis was throwing you.

Your Birthday is in late October so you always have a Costume Party. This year it was a Jazz Club/Old Hollywood themed.

Many people that you’ve worked with or have a bond with came. Here are some of the people who attended.

As you’re talking with friends, Cole approaches you with some people you’ve never met and didn’t really recognize.

“Yo Arlette” he yells.

“Cole Hey!!” you say noticing there’s some people behind him.

“Look I just wanted to introduce you to my boys here, you might know some of em, this is Jack, Jack Harlow.”

the world stopped spinning when you looked into his eyes, and you damn near lost your breath when he reached for handshake.

“Happy Birthday.” he says

“nice to meet you☺️☺️” omfg. LIKE WHO IS THIS???!??? you were screaming on the inside, last person you were geeking over was Jordan. (playboicarti)

“And then this is Urban and Druski” Cole continues to introduce you.

you greet them all with a smile and a nice to meet you, because like we mentioned earlier we aren’t so aware of the people poppin at the moment😬 but some knew you

“Hey I really love your work dude, New Choppa was insane” - Urban says

“Thank you so muchhh!” you say with a smile.

Fast forward the night, you took some pictures with your friends and everyone, including Jack because Cole insisted.

Cole posted it on his story and everyone was going crazy because this was your first appearance since 2019. (yk how we freak out when we see frank ocean, this is how everyone was reacting to you)

You: So yeah to break it all down, I wanted Jacks fine ass since the day I met him.

Jack’s Pov

At the time I was on the rise of my Career. The song I was featured on with Lil Nas X was the #1 song in the world. Got Nominated for hella stuff, got hella awards. I was really accomplishing my dreams.

My friend Cole Bennett, creator of Lyrical Lemonde, fucking legend. I’ve worked with him for the music video of What’s Poppin my first hit ever.

He had this friend, and I had known of Arlette because she was a big help in the artistic side of this industry and uh, Urban has mentioned her name to me before when he’d show me some album covers, or a music video but, i never knew the face behind all that was arlette’s beautiful self.

So it’s October, all these halloween parties are happening and Cole had hit me up and said, “Yo I have this friend, Arlette Viotto she works in the same category as me. I don’t know if you’ve heard of her but, she’s having a birthday party today at 9 PM they’re always really sick, i’d love for you to meet her man.

And me like I said I never even seen what she looked like, but I looked her up on google and I was sent to a whole different dimension looking at how beautiful she was. I was also appalled reading everything she was behind like damn I never knew. But I hit Cole back I said I am going to that party, we invited more of our friends and walking into this lil jazz club, they were playing that techno shit, it got turnt.

And I’m walking around I see hella people here, some people are coming to greet me ya know telling me congrats on being number one all that. Cole brings me to go meet this Arlette Viotto. And man was she even prettier in person.

Meanwhile Urban was over here fangirling, i remember. That shit was hilarious, but yeah I used my skills of eye contact and smooth talking. It was love at first sight.

okay first of all sorry for taking forever on this. I have gotten so unmotivated on like everything i been wanting to write about but here is what i have of this Jack Harlow series im attempting to do. I hope you love it and there’s more coming, trust and believe!!

#smoothiesin1991 #cocainegirlsnblunts #jackharlowswifey #jack harlow fanfic #cole bennett #halloween #jazz music #when we first met #jack harlow #jack harlow smut #kali uchis #larry june

[northwestofinsanity]

Classic Rock Sleepover Asks 2.0

The classic rock fandom twist on the “sleepover ask” concept -revamped over a year later with an extended question list for all to enjoy spending the night getting deep and specific about our beloved old musicians and their timeless songs

1) Name an album you can listen to all the way through without skipping a song

2) What is an interesting fact about one of your favorite bands that not a lot of people might know?

3) What’s one of the funniest band stories you’ve ever heard?  What happened?

4) Name two songs by two different bands that sound similar or have the same sort of theme/vibe (but aren’t often recognized for this)

5) Do you have a “comfort album”? (an album you like to play in the background when you’re sick, going through a hard time, etc.) If so, what is it?  Is there a particular reason it’s your comfort album?

6) Do you have any head canons about a band or any of its members? (Specify a band when asking!)

7) Is there a band you love that has done something that really disappointed you?  What was it?

8) What member of your favorite band must be protected at all costs, and why?

9) Tell me a funny, random quote from a rock star.

10) Name 2 to 5 random rock stars from different bands in your ask, and I’ll try to come up with a scenario of what would happen if they were in the same room together!

11) What’s a song you have a memory strongly associated with?

12) What’s a band you really love but haven’t posted as much for/haven’t posted at all on Tumblr?  Any reason why?

13) Do you have a band that you were once ashamed for liking?  If so, are you still ashamed, or did you get past that -and what makes you proud of liking them now?

14) Is there a band you like that you used to hate?  Why did you not like them at first, and what changed that for you?

15) What’s a song or band you got into by chance of just happening to be in the right place while it was playing, and may have never known without that one experience?

16) Name an artist you grew up listening to who you can always go back to and enjoy.

17) Do you have any bands or band members that you have a love/hate relationship with?  Who and why?

18) Name a song that you love, but have to be in a very specific mood to listen to

19) Have you had any dreams involving rock stars?  Pick one dream, and tell who showed up in it.  If you feel comfortable, share what happened.

20) Name some bands/artists in your music library that you feel are most different from each other, or represent the far range of styles you like

21) Is there a band you like the music of, but dislike some or all of the members, to the point where you simply cannot get into them beyond the songs?

22) Is there a band/artist you feel gets misrepresented, and might have had more fans otherwise?

23) Tell me a band member or solo artist who you feel you can relate to in some specific way.

24) What’s a deep cut that you feel deserves more love (specify a band/artist when asking!)

25) Name a song that you love by an artist you otherwise don’t usually like.

26) Go on a rant about one of your favorites and why you love them so much!

27) Show me one of your favorite pictures of one of your favorites. Ramble about why it’s your favorite picture if you like!

28) Share a video and a time stamp of one of your favorite moments involving one of your favorite bands/artists

29) If you could choose one song by a band that doesn’t currently get played on classic rock stations, or greatest hits stations featuring a lot of older songs to be added to their regular playlists, what would you choose? (Specify a band/artist when asking!)

30) What’s the longest you’ve kept a song on repeat for, and what song was it? Did it get old by the time you turned it off, or did you still want to hear it more later?

#asks #ask games #bring on the insanity #reblog and have at it with your friends and mutuals too #classic rock sleepover #there can never be enough encouragement to share stories about our favorites and their shenanigans

[natlacentral]

VISUAL TALES Presents Actor IAN OUSLEY from NETFLIX’s AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER

Best known for his portrayal of 'Sokka' in the latest hit Netflix series "Avatar: The Last Airbender," Ousley brings depth to the character's leadership struggles with a blend of wit and deadpan humor. As we delve beyond the screen, we uncover Ian's entrepreneurial spirit, co-founding the innovative clothing line KALÓ SOIL, a venture that repurposes vintage items into timeless fashion pieces. From winning championships to gracing the screens of Netflix's "13 Reasons Why" and CBS's "Young Sheldon," Ian Ousley's trajectory is as dynamic as the characters he embodies.

BIBI XIA: Hi fellow Texan! How was growing up in Texas and when did you move to LA? IAN OUSLEY: I love LA and have been here since 2016 when I was just 14 years old. I grew up in College Station, Texas, which as you know is a city built for college students. While most people come from Houston or Dallas for college, it’s a different town when you’re growing up in it. People who grew up there wanted to do team sports like football, but I took a very different path because of my asthma, and being in the grass was terrible for me. This led me to do Taekwondo at 8-9 years old because it was an indoor solo sport. School was very competitive and I knew I wanted to take a different path than going to college. So I took the non-traditional route of an indoor sport, noncompetitive with academics, and then transitioned into an artist career path here in LA.

BX: I’m sure you’ve been asked a lot of the same questions regarding Avatar, so something more specific I had in mind is if you could water bend in your everyday life, what would you use it for? IO: It’s a hard question to answer because in the show, they are at war, and it’s hard to think about applying it in everyday life. Water bending is cool because you can heal people with it. If I was one of the only water benders I’d probably go into medicine. Or, I can just become the most wealthy entrepreneur in the water slide business and open up Schlitterbahns left and right.

BX: What was your most memorable scene from the show and why? IO: I would say the most memorable scene as an audience would probably be the Avatar Kyoshi scene. I especially liked how she showed up when Katara and Zuko were fighting, and how she just appeared. What was yours? BX: Same! That scene was so memorable, that I hit replay as soon as it was over.

BX: Who is most like their character and who is least like their character and why? IO: I think Gordon is most like his character in real life, he’s just this very goofy and energetic kid off-screen. The least like their character is an easy answer because Zuko is this person consumed by power and anger, while Dallas in real life is an angel and a softie.

BX: Would you say you’re similar to Sokka? IO: I think there are a lot of similarities between me and Sokka. We both love humor and use it as a tool more than part of our personality. Luckily both my parents are still in my life and that does fundamentally change. Sokka lost both of his parents and has such a big responsibility to take care of a village. So we are different in that we went through different life experiences even though there are similarities. 

BX: Do you find it more challenging to portray someone more similar to you or very opposite to who you are? IO: I prefer portraying a character that’s vastly different from my own personality. When you’re acting and you have different circumstances to portray that are further away from your own, you have the opportunity to really build out a character. I do a lot of prep before doing something, it’s important that the characters have their own physicalities, their own ways of reacting to things, and ground themselves. I’ve not had a role yet where those characteristics are similar to mine. It’s less vulnerable when you’re not being compared to your character in real life. 

BX: Is there a role or character you’d like to play someday? IO: I’m really looking forward to playing a villain or something fantastical like a creature or motion capture. My number one role would be to play Beast Boy. 

BX: Speaking of Beast Boy, how was the hair and makeup process on the set of Avatar? IO: I was so lucky, my process was fairly short. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I get a haircut, and that was 30 minutes in hair and 30 minutes in makeup. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, it was only 15 minutes for hair, and all that was to center the ponytail. Most of the other cast members had a lot longer time like Dallas had spent at least 2 hours every day to get prosthetics for his character.

BX: What was your favorite costume and weapon on set? IO: Costume-wise, it’s definitely the warrior outfit with the chainmail and shoulder pads. Weapon-wise, I really liked the boomerangs and we had it made in various materials. I really liked the aluminum version and enjoyed playing around with it. I have a world championship in weapons for my martial arts. The war club I had was also really heavy on the top and light at the bottom so it was an interesting feel. 

BX: What are you most looking forward to for Seasons 2 and 3? IO: I’m most looking forward to being back with the fam, my co-stars. There’s a different bond you create with people when you’re doing a project together and building a shoulder-to-shoulder interaction instead of face-to-face. We’re all focused on a goal and moving towards that thing, it feels almost like being in a team sport. I’m also looking forward to reading the scripts and specific scenes from the show and how they will mix and evolve the characters. I hope that they incorporate more humor for Sokka.

BX: You started a fashion brand with your friends, KALÓ SOIL. Can you tell us about the inspiration and process of creating the piece you wore to the premiere?  IO: The inspiration behind this piece was white ravens. They’ve been a very important part of my life for the last year and a half. Ravens mean the provisions of God, and the concept of the white raven is a very glorious and triumphant raven. We were inspired by the layers and pleats that represented the raven and we used a lot of different textiles and textures for the piece. We had 7 crosses on the leather sashe and 7 represented the number for perfection.

BX: What’s next for KALÓ SOIL?  IO: It’s been such a beautiful opportunity to work with my business partners. They are really amazing creatives in designing and creative directing. We’re starting to do collections and our goal is to do a runway this year.

BX: Do you have any upcoming projects? IO: I’m working on a short right now with director Tony Tanchney and we’re really excited about it but I can’t tell you too much about what it is. It’s very different from the characters I’ve done before, so it’s interesting to see the contrast. But after that, it will mostly be Avatar for the next two and a half years.

#Vimeo #natla #atla #netflix avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar netflix #netflix atla #atla netflix #ian ousley #photoshoot #interview #visual tales

[st4rfckerz]

****Ok to the 19 year old virgin with a dildo.*****

I’m 10 years older than you and have been busy in that time. I lost count of my body count, but it’s over 100 for sure so I’ve seen a lot of cock, and most of them aren’t huge. I’ve had all the races and I’ve found that they all have similar sized cocks. Black, white and Latino have like 6-7inches which is fine if he knows how to fuck. I’d say 25% have 8inches and maybe 15% has 9inches. Like 8% are under 6 inches, and I have only come across two 10 inchers out of like 100. I’ve only had sex with one Hawaiian guy and he was tall and built and had a 9 inch. I had sex with a Japanese guy too and he had like a 7 so that whole Asian guys have small dicks thing isn’t true as far as I can tell, but I don’t have a lot of experience with Asians although they’re really attractive. The Hawaiian guy was a mix of Phillipines, Somaoa and pure Hawaiian and his name was Kalani and he had this tattoo on his leg that told the story of his people and it was so hot. His eyes were grey which he said was very unusual and got him beat up when he was little but GOD he was attractive and really great in bed. He made me cum so many times I thought he broke me. Lol. Most guys don’t make you orgasm unless they know how to stimulate your clit and make you feel comfortable and beautiful. If you’re uncomfortable, insecure, or unsure about a guy, you won’t be able to reach an orgasm. Men orgasm every time they finish. It’s more physical than mental for them, while it’s equally mental and physical for women I think.

Side story about the Hawaiian guy just cuz I want to tell it- I met him in Las Vegas at a night club when we were there for my friends bachelorette party weekend. I saw him and said he was hot, and I’m very picky and never really single guys out so it got all my friends attention. I had to pee so I left my purse with my friends, and one of their drunk genius asses goes up to him and tells him he needs to return my purse to me and points me out. Thank god he didn’t just steal my purse with everything in it, but he came up and gave it to me and got me a drink and a rose and he came back to my hotel with me and hung out the whole entire weekend.(he was friends with a bunch of famous UFC fighters but none of us had a clue who any of them were, but a few of my friends got with some of those guys.) He was supposed to go back to Hawaii, but he asked if he could just hang with me a few days, and I told him I lived across the country and he bought a ticket to my hometown and ended up staying a week, and then came back a couple times and I went to Hawaii one time with him, and he didn’t want me to get on the plane but I was an idiot and didn’t say I love you too when he said he loved me. I said thank you and then got on the plane. he never spoke to me again and I was stubborn and didn’t call him after I tried a couple times and gave up.

Back to the cock talk. Length isn’t as important as the thickness unless it’s over 7 inches and hits your cervix. That shit does not feel good. When a guy hits your wall, it’s painful unless you enjoy pain, which some women like to be smacked and have their hair pulled but I’m not one of them. I’ll smack a motherfucker right back!

Porn isn’t a good gauge of what cocks are like cuz those are all extreme sized. I heard that if you’ve given birth, then you can handle bigger cocks, but I’ve never done that so I cannot verify, but I cannot imagine there’s too much of a difference since your body goes back to what it was before birth. There’s a point where they’re just too damn big.

The hottest guy I ever fucked had this enormous penis and it was terrible. I tried several times and different positions, but his dick was like as big around as a soda can and was like 10 inches. You’re trying to get something close in size of your virgin pussy? That’s gonna be tough, if not impossible. Plus what is the dildo made of? If it’s silicone or rubber, then you need some lube. I cannot stress it enough! Lube is so important. If you don’t have enough anti friction lubrication (natural or store bought) sex is not fun, and can even injure you and your partner.

Penetration isn’t really that important in female masterbation. It’s all about clit stimulation and figuring out what really turns you on. Just because you’re wet, doesn’t mean you cummed. That’s just your vagina lubricating itself in preparation for sexual activity when you’re horny or aroused. You absolutely know when you cum. It’s almost like a really strong finally getting to pee feeling, but in a good way and you don’t pee (unless you’re a squirter, but those are pretty rare) squirters are just what they sound like, when they cum they spray pee and their orgasms are more intense. I’ve squirted before and I think it’s so embarrassing but the guy is always so into it. (Even if you get them right in the face, guys are so gross sometimes)

I suggest getting a smaller dildo, and get one with a clit stimulator. Get one that’s got a plug and is rechargable so you don’t burn through a million batteries. They’re more expensive up front, but save you money in the long run.

You don’t wanna loosen yourself up too much anyway. It feels better for you and him if you’re tighter down there. If he goes down on you, and is considerate your first few times, you’ll be able to take dick in no time.

If he won’t go down on you or is not being careful or considerate, and tries to force it in roughly without you telling him to do so, then just get up and leave. You don’t need to get ripped or torn, or get a bruised internal vagina, or not be able to walk the next day comfortably cuz he’s an asshole. Just abandon ship.

Blue balls are supposedly a real thing but most of my guy friends say they are greatly exaggerated to guilt trip women into doing what they want. They don’t actually experience pain. It’s a scam.

there's nothing i can really add because i've only been with a woman but this is like top tier advice

#nai answers! #st4rfckerz

[16magnolias]

Week 2 Day 1 - Lucía's Relationships: Childhood Family and Friends

For @encanto-extended-edition Week 2: Relationships!

(I realize I am late and it is no longer Day 1 but bear with me, lol)

🌟Note:  This post contains slight spoilers for an upcoming chapter (Chapter 39) of Just Your Ordinary, Everyday Miracle.  If you’re reading it and don’t want to know about José’s past until you read it in the story, skip this post for now.🌟

Family:

Father: José Hernandez 

Mother: Gabriela Hernandez - deceased

Siblings: Sofia Esperanza Rojas (sister) & Lorenzo Rojas (brother in law) 

Felipe Hernandez (brother) – deceased

Friends: Ana and Raquel

(Did I look up the pic of Tarzan's parents from the Disney movie as a reference for this drawing and for Gabriela? Yes. Yes I did. 😅)

So much of Lucía’s kindness and optimism stems from her relationships with her parents and sister and friends.

Originally from a town near Cali, Lucía’s parents Gabriela and José Hernandez fled from violence near their home and traveled from town to town for nearly a year.  They endured many hardships during their journey, but the loss of their two year old son, Felipe, was by far the worst. The eventually ended up in Alma and Pedro’s town.  They were both present the night the Encanto formed.   

José carried a lot of guilt with him about both the loss of his son and the fact that Pedro died to save them all.  José and Gabriela took several years to work through their guilt and grief as the Encanto was settled, clinging to each other and their faith to help them heal.  It wasn’t until nearly a decade later that they felt ready to try to grow their family again. Lucía was born 9 years after the Encanto formed and her sister Sofia was born 2 years after Lucía.  José and Gabriela saw their daughters as a tremendous blessing – a second chance to be parents.  They doted on their daughters and poured their hearts and lives into loving them and raising them to be kind, honest, and strong women.

Her father José, in particular, is deeply religious and devoted to his faith, and has done his best to practice what he preaches.  José Hernandez taught his daughters from a young age to love their neighbors as themselves, to share what they have, to help those in need, and to choose their words carefully, kindly, and truthfully when speaking to and about others.  As a printer in a time of unrest, he understands the power that words hold and has always taught his children to speak the truth and to use their words for good. 

Lucía’s younger sister, Sofia, is her opposite in many ways – Sofia is taller, thinner, louder, and more outspoken than her sister, and she’s also more adventurous and just generally busier, with 5 kids to raise and a stable to run. Growing up, Lucía preferred the adventures in books and stories to the adventures in the outside world. Sofia took to climbing trees and shimmying up poles at the ripe age of four. Where Lucía asked, Sofia commanded. Where Lucía hung back and observed, Sofia jumped in and took charge. Despite their differences, they’re very close, and have influenced each other’s personalities as they’ve aged. Lucía softened Sofia's bluntness and helped her sister to think before she speaks, and Sofia gave her older hermana a poke in the butt when she needed it and gave Lucía the confidence to step up and step in when needed.

Her mother Gabriela was kind and gentle and soft spoken, though she was not shy about sharing her opinions with that soft voice.  She was strict but fair. Lucía’s parents loved each other and their daughters deeply and her mother’s death when Lucía was in her early 30s hit them all hard.  Lucía was the strong one in that moment, helping her father and younger sister Sofia with their grief – so when Alejandro died, Lucía was unprepared for how deeply it affected her ability to function.

Lucía still lives with her father in the small home attached to their family shop, and he was instrumental in helping her navigate Alejandro’s death.  He is an excellent Abuelo to Josefina – to all of Sofia’s children, as well – and though he can be pedantic and borderline preachy at times, he always follows through on what he says and tries to do the right thing. Lucía regularly goes to him for advice on parenting and – once she realizes them - on her feelings about Bruno.

Friends:

Lucía’s best friends growing up were Ana (left) and Raquel (right). Ana is warm and sociable and loves to laugh.  Raquel appears cold and stand offish at first, often hiding behind dry, sarcastic comments and rarely revealing her emotions, but she truly cares about her friends and is easily hurt if she feels brushed off by them.

Ana’s family makes sweets, candy, and confectionary treats. Raquel’s family farms sugarcane.  The three grew up together and once they were old enough, were always hanging around the Rojas stables, watching Lucía’s little sister Sofia argue – and then flirt – with one of the Rojas boys, Lorenzo.  Ana was the first to marry and Lucía married Alejandro shortly after, and Raquel – while she enjoys making people squirm by flirting with them unexpectedly – has never settled down with anyone and is very content to stay that way. 

When Alejandro died, Ana and Raquel did their best to be there for Lucía, but Lucía’s grief and depression caused her to believe she was just a burden on her friends – their well-meaning questions and visits were just too hard for her.  She pushed them away and stopped responding to them when they would come to visit, choosing to stay in her room or excusing herself to ‘take care of Josefina’ until they left. She avoided them in the marketplace and at church.  Once she was recovered enough to realize what she’d done, she wanted to make amends but didn’t know where to start.

At the start of Just Your Ordinary, Everyday Miracle, Lucía still has a strong relationship with her family, but has a complicated relationship with the village.  Many people pity her, though their expression of that pity can sometimes be condescending or infantilizing. Some villagers judge her for her reaction to her husband’s death and the way she grieved; others are overly accommodating to make up for her losing her husband.  About a year after his death she began her storytimes at the shop again and began slowly reintegrating herself into society. 

Despite the pity most people regard her with, most parents in the Encanto like Lucía well enough and trust her with their children. The village generally respects her abilities and enthusiasm and trusts her intentions and it isn’t until after the miracle returns that one disgruntled parent causes a whole lot of problems for Lucía (and Bruno). 

#encanto #encanto oc #encanto oc event #encanto oc appreciation #lucia moreno #everyday miracle #week 2 #childhood relationships

[denimbex1986]

'“I got called a gay elder the other day,” Andrew Haigh said. This title, bestowed by a group of younger gay men, initially rankled him. It’s true that Haigh — the director of acclaimed films like “45 Years” and “Weekend” — had recently turned 50, but he still found that landmark age hard to believe.

“I’m looking older,” he told me, “but it’s a strange thing to think that I’m not young anymore.”

That uncanny feeling is a key theme in Haigh’s latest film, “All of Us Strangers,” which he adapted from the 1987 novel “Strangers” by Taichi Yamada. Andrew Scott stars in the film as Adam, a screenwriter in his late 40s with a whole lot on his mind: As he entertains a tentative romance with his neighbor Harry (Paul Mescal), he returns to his childhood home and finds it somehow inhabited by the parents (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) who died when he was young. Though this reunion summons Adam’s inner child to the fore — a transformation Scott sells with heartbreaking subtlety, even when dressed in Christmas pajamas — there are still tricky adult conversations to be had with his parents about his sexuality and lonely middle age.

“I knew that for this film to work, I had to throw myself into it on a very personal level,” Haigh said. “So much of the things they’re talking about and the memories that Adam has of being a kid are my memories.”

That commitment even extended to filming much of the movie in the house where Haigh grew up, a notion that astounded many of his actors.

“I always have this image of him losing one of his baby teeth in that house where the crew were stamping on the floor,” Scott said. “Isn’t it extraordinary that as you shoot a scene downstairs in the kitchen about a man coming out to his mother, he could have gone upstairs after he had actually done that and been upset in a small bathroom?”

In November, I met Haigh at an old-fashioned cafe in Hollywood where, as a young film student, he used to plop down in the corner booth and order the blackened chicken sandwich and too much coffee. (Haigh no longer eats meat, so during our lunch he had the veggie sandwich instead.) As we spoke about the personal stories from his youth he excavated for “All of Us Strangers,” he said he had started to come to grips with the journey he has traveled since and the nickname that long voyage had earned him.

“I might get a T-shirt that says ‘gay elder,’” he told me, chuckling.

Here are edited excerpts from our conversation.

A lot of this movie is inspired by your early life. What were you like as a child?

I think I was a sad kid. I was fine when I was younger, but my parents split up when I was 9, and I was being bullied at school. When you’re an unhappy child, it shapes everything. It doesn’t go away — it will always be there, the way you felt, and the instinct to repress yourself early on can affect everything.

How did their divorce affect you?

There was so much that I was made to push down and forget and not talk about. I don’t think I ever spoke to anybody about how I felt. And look, it doesn’t take a genius to look at my films and think that all of those themes come out within the stuff that I make about feeling alone, about searching for stability, about trying to understand the past and change it somehow in order for you to move forward. Pretty much the filmmaker I am now is because of how I was as a kid.

Why were you being bullied at school?

Because they knew I was gay, basically.

Did you know you were gay?

No. They could see my difference before I could. And I talk about it in the film, but it was the early ’80s and the mid-’80s in the U.K., this incredibly homophobic time. Everyone was terrified of AIDS and the government had Section 28, which was a law against teaching homosexuality in school. I think most queer kids from the ’80s kept everything very, very hidden. I was in relationships with girls all the way into my 20s, and I didn’t come out till my late 20s, till after university.

What happened when you told your parents you were gay?

They were good. They had to do a huge readjustment in their understanding of me, so that’s not easy for parents. You go through some strange questions, for sure, and it takes a bit of time, and you find your way through it. But it’s a strange thing because I know lots of people have very supportive families, and it doesn’t mean you don’t feel a little bit separate. Even in this age of acceptance, there is still often a line that you don’t want to cross. Or maybe it’s even that we feel uncomfortable, that we still want to hide elements of ourselves because we’re still afraid that they might not love us as much.

So frequently, we want to reassure everyone else not to worry. We’ve held this thing in, which almost makes you explode from being sick with the pressure building inside you, and still you’re like, “Oh, don’t worry, I’m really happy,” or “I’m going to be great.” And in retrospect I’m like, what was I doing? I wasn’t fine. I was a mess and I was terrified and all I was trying to do is make them feel better. For a lot of queer people, we’re doing that all the time, trying to walk this line of not pushing boundaries too much so we don’t get rejected.

When you were reading the novel that “All of Us Strangers” was based on, did you sense immediately that you could explore all these themes in an adaptation?

It definitely took a long time. It’s a good novel, but it’s very traditionally a ghost story. I thought about doing it as that to start with, but then I knew that I wanted the romantic relationship in the story to be queer, and I wanted it to be about the associations of family love and romantic love and how they’re all wrapped up together.

You shot the film in the house you grew up in, in Croydon in South London. Were you picturing that place when you wrote the script?

Yeah. I think I was rooting it to the idea of a childhood home, and then as we started trying to work out where to shoot it, I was like, “Well, why wouldn’t I go and shoot it there?” I knew it would be a strange experience, but I like how I feel when I’m a little bit terrified and emotionally fragile. The interesting ideas come from that.

What was it like when you first walked through that door?

I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s a very peculiar feeling. When I walked around by myself and I sat in what would have been my old bedroom and looked out the window, you just remember things. I remember standing at that window when I was a kid. There were some enormous trees outside, but when we lived there, those trees were only knee-high. Somehow that freaked me out more than anything else, that those trees were pretty much the exact age as me and they’ve been on this planet for 50 years, as I have.

You’ve cast Claire Foy and Jamie Bell as the parents. How much like your real parents are they?

Look, my dad’s from the north of England and sounds a bit like Jamie, and my mom sounds a bit like Claire. And they sort of look a bit like that and their personalities are quite similar. So there’s definitely a sense that they are related to my parents.

It’s interesting that when we first meet Jamie’s character, before you’ve revealed the familial relationship, it almost seems like he’s cruising Andrew’s character in the woods.

It always made me laugh that no one’s surprised when a straight guy goes for someone who’s a bit like their mom — that’s just like a natural thing — but no one ever says, “Well, gay guys and queer guys, maybe they quite like someone who’s a bit like their dad.” I wanted to play with that because, to me, love is rooted in feeling comforted and safe and understood. That is what your parents give you, and it’s no surprise that you might want it from a lover, too. And Jamie Bell looks super hot. Who doesn’t want to cruise him coming out of the trees?

Did the actors meet your parents?

No. I would never do that. I mean, my dad’s not well so he won’t get to see the film. But my mom’s seen the film and I’m sure she’ll meet the actors at some point.

What did she think of it?

She saw it with my brother in a screening room in London, and I think it was hard for her to watch. There was a lot of stuff that feels personal to her, and I don’t underestimate how strange that must be. There’s a scene that I have now made with some twisted version of me talking to a mother in the bed that used to be my mom’s bed. That’s not an easy thing for them to deal with, so I really do appreciate it. But she loves the film, she’s super excited about it.

It’s a shame my dad can’t see it because I feel like he would like it. My dad has quite bad dementia and it came on while I was making the film, just a strange time for it to happen. During the shoot, I went up to visit him because he’d just been put into hospital, and he’d completely forgotten that I was gay. Had no memory of it: “Oh, so you’ve got a wife? Are you married?” I was like, “Oh, Christ.” I didn’t tell him, I didn’t say that I was with my partner.

Why not?

I was terrified, I felt like I was 20-whatever again. I didn’t want to upset him because he’s in a care home now, but at the same time, you feel the same terror of, “Oh my God, is he going to reject me when I really don’t need this right now?” Then I came back to London and the next scene I shot was the scene with Jamie and Andrew talking [about his sexuality], a pretty tough emotional scene to have done the day after that. So it was a rough time.

I did see my dad again and I brought my partner with me, so he’s seen my partner now. It was interesting because he was like, “Well, as long as you found love, that’s the important thing. That’s all I care about.” I feel like some element of him still knew, and I’m glad I got to bring my partner to see him. It just shows how you always have to still keep coming out.

There’s always something that can reduce you to the state you were in before.

Exactly. That’s what this film is: It’s absolutely about being reduced to that state. And that’s why I thought it was so interesting to wrap it up in grief, because I think grief is such a similar thing. When you lose someone, it’s always just there as something in you. It felt like this film has such a perfect way to express how we can’t move on from things unless we’re helped to move on from those things.'

#Andrew Haigh #All of Us Strangers #Jamie Bell #Claire Foy #Taichi Yamada #Strangers #Andrew Scott #Paul Mescal #45 Years #Weekend

[morganofthewildfire]

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Chapter 1 - Rowan's POV

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Rowaelin Month - Day 9 - Single Parent au

~ 1.4k words

masterlist

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Rowan wasn’t looking forward to this latest assignment. He’d figured when he originally signed up for tutoring, he’d be paired with some gangly eighteen year old with glasses too big for his face, but apparently the gods had a different idea for him. Because he’d been paired with the 21 year-old freshman, Aelin Galathynius. 

He didn’t know anything about her; but right away, just from that limited information, he could tell this would be a waste of his time. 

So a permanent frown was etched onto his face as he entered Mistward Cafe, glancing around until he saw a blonde girl sitting at a table by the window alone. Her elbows were resting on the table, and she looked up to look at him, their eyes meeting.

He nearly stopped breathing. Her eyes were breathtaking, a mix of blue and green with a shocking ring of gold around the iris. But he hardened his heart, keeping his face cold as he walked over to her table, sitting down across from her.

Without any words, he pulled out his laptop and his notebook, getting himself set up for the tutoring session. The only reason he was doing this was for the tiny wage that he got. He was at the University on scholarship; his parents had died when he was very young, and with multiple children already, his uncle didn’t have a lot of money to go around for college. So Rowan had worked his ass off in high school, and managed to get a full ride. 

But some spending money didn’t hurt.

He opened his laptop, opening and replying to an email from his advisor, Maeve, before sending it off.

“So,” Rowan said, a bit dryly. “How do we want to approach this? Do you want to go over the most recent unit, or go all the way back to the beginning of the content and start from there?” Each person he tutored had a different way of learning, a different way of wanting to relearn what they’d clearly missed the first time. He found it was better to just ask directly instead of trying to play a guessing game.

But Aelin looked at him, her eyes slightly narrowed. “I just want to be able to pass my next test,” she said. And Rowan knew all he needed to know. This girl didn’t care about actually learning anything, she just wanted to get the bare minimum so she could keep partying and not have to worry about her grades.

“And what did you get on your last test?” He asked, watching as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

She didn’t answer at first, looking down at the table and huffing a sigh. “A 38%.” He almost didn’t hear her, but his brows shot up as the words hit him. “But if I do well enough on the next test, it can average out to a passing score, so that’s just what I need to focus on,” she continued. 

Just like he thought. 

“Would it just be better if you dropped the class and took it again next semester?” He asked, trying to be at least somewhat sympathetic, though his feelings weren’t exactly plentiful. 

“Isn’t it your job to make sure I don’t have to do that?” She spit, and his face hardened. 

“I can only help so much,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. If she didn’t want to put in any real effort, this was just a waste of time. He glanced over to the counter, smelling the distinct scent of coffee. He could go for a cup right about now.

“I’m not a child,” she spit tensely, “I am perfectly mentally capable of passing this class.” He nearly rolled her eyes.

“Then why aren’t you?” Rowan replied. She herself glanced over to the counter, something in her eyes he couldn’t comprehend.

“Really?” His voice was dismissive. “You’re what, 20, 21?” He already knew, but he wanted to see her reaction. “I don’t know what reasons you have because to me it looks like you wasted your first couple years after high school, maybe partying or something on daddy’s dime, and now you’re learning that the real world isn’t that easy. That you can’t get by with a few bats of your eyelashes and a few bucks. I’ve seen it before.” 

He tried not to be bitter, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Excuse me?” Aelin asked, offense clear in her voice. Rowan just narrowed his eyes. “What gives you the right to -”

“Aelin!” The owner of the cafe said, smiling, as he walked over to their table. He set a steaming cup of coffee down. “How’s everything going over here?” 

“Fine,” Aelin lied, taking a sip of the drink set in front of her. “It may be over sooner than an hour though, so I’ll get back to work as quickly as I can.” His brows shot up.

Work?

They continued chatting, he could tell that much, but he couldn’t hear it, his brain still circulating around that single phrase. Back to work. 

That implied that she’d been working already, which implied that -

“You work here?” Rowan asked, hesitating slightly as she turned to face him again. Her face was hard.

“I’m paying for college myself,” she said, her voice harsh, “that doesn’t fit your narrative does it?” No it didn’t. And he was beginning to think that he was an asshole. Well, he already knew he was. But this was just a reminder of how much he’d changed since Lyria. Since he’d lost both her and their… baby.

It was like the word summoned one, cries sounding through the cafe.

“Shit,” Aelin cursed under her breath, and Rowan looked at her in confusion. But before he could question the strange reaction, she stood up out of her chair, turning to face the counter just as a harried looking teenage boy came out from behind it, holding the source of the noise. 

“I’m so sorry, Aelin,” the boy apologized, carrying the little red headed baby over toward them. Or toddler, Rowan supposed. A very young one. “I just couldn’t get her to stop crying. I wouldn’t have bothered you but she keeps calling for you.” 

“Mama!” The baby cried out, and Rowan stared as Aelin reached for her, laughing with the boy. Though Rowan could hear the tension in her voice, especially as she rocked back and forth a little bit, shushing the little girl quietly. The little girl… her daughter? 

The resemblance was unmistakable, even if Aelin’s hair was a brilliant shade of gold and her daughter’s was much darker, a rich shade of red. Their eyes were the same. They both had the same shape of nose, the same splattering of freckles, and Rowan could already tell that they were going to look a lot like each other as time went on.

He would never know with his own. If his child was going to look more like him or Lyria. He pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the present to avoid slipping into the past.

“You have a daughter?” He asked, once she sat back down. Aelin nodded carefully, her expression reserved. He couldn’t blame her. From what he could pick up on, the father likely wasn’t in the picture, and she was so young. Young to already be a mom. He was sure she’d been faced with nasty comments since she’d first started showing.

Rowan never understood why people had to be so critical of a life they weren’t living. 

“She’s beautiful,” he said, a bit of a peace offering. And he knew it’d been accepted when she smiled back, albeit a small one. But it was something.

“Thank you,” she said, caressing her daughter’s hair lightly as the little girl curled into her. And then her face tightened back into what he could recognize as determination. “So what do I need to do to pass this class?”

They got to work pretty quickly after that, and as the tutoring session went on, there was one thing Rowan knew already. He would do whatever he could to help her out. And if statistics was all he could offer, then he’d do his damn best to help her ace this class.

----

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