#‘sexy’ revolts me. I might have sex in my life who knows. BUT I know that if I do it will be on my terms

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part three

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: fingering, fem and male receiving, mentions of pornography, sexual/suggestive themes, swearing, mat not knowing how to eat pussy, anddd too much sneaking around i’m hating myself for it

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three (8.6k), part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: god is fair, sexy nasty, cinderella, planet god damn by mac miller

note: so sorry for the wait! have been a lot busier with uni :(( took weeks for me to finally sit down and write on my laptop to finish this aaaah anw here’s the update and i’m making it up to yall i hope you like!! happy reading babies <3

“Wait–” you break off, your fingers already weaving through his ever so gorgeous hair. 

“What about Tito?” you fret.

You’re sure there was at least a hint of annoyance in his voice. Possibly irked that you had to ruin the one thing you both have been craving for for weeks.

“He won’t come home, trust me.” he says, lips already making its way back to touch your skin, nestling on your jawline, before trailing down to the intricate line of your neck, his movement hasty with a sense of hunger and urgency. 

You didn’t mind. It felt good. 

“Okay– no. Let’s stop this for a sec.” you try to snap out of it, pushing him away but just enough to keep him within arms reach. You rest both your hands on his broad shoulders whilst he rests his on your hips, just a few inches above your ass. 

“We need to clear things out.” you start, eyes lingering on his irises, making you wet your lips at the sight. 

“Didn’t we clear things out thrice now?” he quirks his brows, “And it kinda looks like we’re about to clear the same thing for the fourth time. What’s not clear about it?” Mat kids, half laughing as he lets you punch him playfully, “I’m not kidding, Barz.” you say, clearing your throat. 

You didn’t mind for any of his double entendres but you did mind the fact that whatever’s about to happen tonight is bound to tip the scales of whatever it was that you were having with Mathew.

“Fine. Let’s talk,” he agrees. He walks towards the bed just as he began pulling his shirt off over his head to undress himself.

“Mathew!” you call him yet again, earning yourself a defensive shrug from him, “What? We’re gonna have sex either way might as well talk while we’re at it, right?” he counters, “Now, take your clothes off.”

Regardless of being annoyed at him for acting like an unreasonable child engaging in too much banter, you let out a laugh in disbelief, letting Mathew’s quirks have a hold on you. You roll your eyes out but do as you’re told and begin taking your shirt off which you then throw his way. 

Mat whistles, a smirk sprouting off his lips, evidently in awe of how good you looked half-naked, “Wow.”

You cock up a smirk and shrug to play it off, “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” you turn the compliment back which Mat only reciprocated with a taunting wink, brushing his shoulder briefly like an idiot.

“So. How do you want to play this?” you inquire.

“Naked, I hope.” he laughs, putting his sweats off revealing nothing but his boxers on. When he sees you roll your eyes, yet again, almost wondering if you’re going to bawl it out at any moment, Mat clears his throat and decides to dial down his terrible jokes. 

“Fine. Let’s just say we’re doing ‘Friends with Benefits’ or, you know, what was that movie again?” he thinks for a second, snapping his fingers as he gathers a few romantic comedies he’s seen in the past. “No Strings Attached! The one with Natalie Portman! Yeah, that’s the one.” he marvels.

You look at him quite stunned that he’s familiar with these movies. “Wow. I thought you guys are just into full-on pornography and sports.” 

“Hey!” he retorts, defending himself at once, “I’m speaking your language, dumbass. And for the record, I don’t like porn.” with that, you let out a loud laugh accompanied by a scoff, obviously not buying any of his lies. To which Mat jumps to defend himself the moment he sees the mocking look in your eyes, “What?? Not all men likes pornography, y/n.”

With both hands on your hips, you arch your brow at him and reply with a revolting grin, “First rule, no lying. I wasn’t born last night, Barzal.”

“Fine. I don’t like it like it.” he points out just as he averts your gaze, “But I’m certainly not against it. Those girls need to make a living, y/n.” 

You meet his cocky remark with an exasperated sigh, “You’re such a pig.” 

Mat answers with a shrug, letting your judgmental glares slide, “Call me names, I don’t care. You’re the one sleeping with a pig.”

And as if it had been expected all along, it didn’t take long for the both of you to end up in bed, wearing nothing but your skin, breathing in each other’s breaths, gasping as you let yourselves let loose with the company of a friend.

Mathew marvels at the sight of your heaving chest whilst his head was wedged in between your thighs, going on endless circles as he nibbles on your clit, perhaps trying a little too hard to make you meet your high. 

What the fuck is he doing? is probably what every girl has asked herself when a man goes down on her thinking that he already got her all figured out. 

Mathew knew what he was doing to be fair. He was there. For the most part. His fingers were nothing but magic but his mouth was a different subject. It was almost as if he was overachieving something. Kind of like the way he does during plays that would eventually cause them the game. 

He’s in his head a little too much. That’s for sure. You didn’t want to ruin the moment so you decide to let it slide and put on your best suit. After all, it wasn’t the first time you had to fake your sexual orgasms. You weren’t entirely surprised though. Half of the men you’ve gone out with didn’t know shit about eating pussy. And Mat was pretty, at least he had that going on for him.

You bit your lower lip, trying to suppress the fact that you weren’t enjoying it. Mat was doing all sorts of things at once and it was all too much. Too much that you’d rather finish the job yourself than have someone licking your region like a fucking chew toy.

As much as you didn’t want to, you arch your back and let out a fake moan, curling your fingers on the sheets, the other tugging on Mat’s hair, staging the perfect scene Mat had wanted to see. He emerges from below and hovers on top of you with a proud grin on his face, oblivious of the dramatic pin you’ve successfully put into the night. 

“And that, my friend,” he smirks, “is how you do it.”

Oh, believe me, it is not. You try to smile, “Hm. It’s that easy, huh?” 

“Well, yeah. Think of it like a scrimmage.” he says as he starts to pepper kisses on your cheeks, his hands roaming around your body, compensating for what his mouth missed. “Or a shootout even.”

“I’m thinking no.” you deny, “Rule two, if talking hockey is your definition of dirty talk, you better zip it.” you stress out as you prop your leg around his waist in order for you to move on top of him. 

Mat chuckles, trying to mask how much he longed to feel your mouth envelop his member. There hasn’t been a day where the image of you sucking his length didn’t enter his mind. It didn’t matter where he was. Whether he was in the shower, on the road with the boys, leaving for practice, or just tying his skates. He wanted nothing more than to look down at you as your little tears revolt to escape your doe eyes whilst you take him whole. Indeed, it was a sight for Mathew. And god knows how much he’s willing to give just to see it again. 

You spit just as you kiss the tip of his shaft, stroking his length in a circular motion to spread your saliva on his cock before you proceed on pressing gentle kisses on his head; edging him for not letting you cum— unconsciously wanting him to know how to give a goddamn head the right way. 

You patiently went your way as you began taking him in your mouth, inching down his thickness without breaking off of his dark and lustful gaze. Mat rests his head on the headboard, his breathing growing heavy and hoarse whilst he watches his dick be consumed by your hollowing cheeks, sucking the life out of him. 

“Fuck. You’re so good.” he groans, pulling your hair with his free hand before guiding you further down his dick. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Flattered by his praises which you find undeniably hot, you pop him out of your mouth, letting all your spit drip onto it just before gathering it back once you start licking him underneath, sucking on his balls as your tongue goes on little circles, playing with it for a while before letting it go with a loud pop. 

You watch Mat lose his mind with every movement you make but you know full well not to let him come in your mouth. It’s bad enough you didn’t get to come the first time he tried tonight. You won’t have yourself seeing the light of day high and dry while Mat gets to doze off the second you leave for his door. 

You climb on top of him. Mat was rather quick to let his hands find its way to your hips, your pussy sitting on his flat stomach just enough to let him know how wet you still are for him in spite of not getting the fun you’ve wanted for your own. 

“Where’s the rubber?” you ask him. Mat props himself quickly and carefully shifts towards his bedside table. You feel him on your back, poking on your skin whilst he pulls out one of the drawers. He fishes a wrapped condom straight from the box which he then swiftly opens with his teeth, motioning for you to get off of him first so he could get settled. 

“Ready?” you ask him, “Ready.” 

Mat rolls over and secures you in between his hands resting on both sides of your head. You feel his head poking against your abdomen as he finally takes his shaft to rub it in between you far too moistened slit just before he takes the plunge and dive deep.

“So,” you struggle to find the words as Mat finally starts making up for his loss a while ago. Your fingers envelop his nape, digging on his skin as you let himself adjust inside you. Stretching you whole with barely half his dick pushing through you.  Thank god this was one of the many things Mat definitely did not suck at. 

“Wanna walk me through this whole set up?” 

Mathew groans, his chest hard against yours as he pumps inside you at a steady pace; one that was pleasurably slow. One that had you closing your eyes whilst you let your head sink into his pillows. 

Despite working his way on tending to too many things at once, with his thumb brushing on one of your nipples, his lips attached to your earlobes, and his free hand secured on your hips, Mat whispers in your ear. “It’s like what we’ve agreed on that night.” he breathes heavily, his mind trailing off to that night momentarily before he speaks again, “We’re friends.”

“And?” you whine as you feel his wet lips brush briefly on your sensitive skin just enough to send chills up your spine, making you crave more of his touch; a grave wanting kindling inside your gut like fire.

“Friends…” he repeats in between kisses, “who likes to do this.” his lips travel from the corner of your lips and onto your jaw line. He then lets himself pull away just so he could look you in the eye, all whilst maintaining both your bodies moving in sync as you follow his lead. 

“You do know that things like this almost never work, right?” you honestly say, telling him the very same thing you’ve told him when you first crossed the line and threw everything you’ve progressively built with him throughout the years of being Anthony’s best friends. 

“Almost is good enough for me.” he counters with a husky voice, feeling constrained by how tight your pussy was around him. It had been a while and Mat was going insane just by thinking about how your cunt was made exactly for him. It was absurd for him to think such a thing but he would not deny the sensation coursing through his veins as if sex had become something entirely new to him. That you have miraculously been able to paint something far better than what he’s already gotten used to for who knows how long; luring him into the worst kind of addiction he could get himself into.  And although Mathew wanted to hate himself that it had to happen with you, he knew he couldn’t. 

“Let’s not have secrets,” he suggests. You raise both your brows, quite intrigued that he requested such a thing. “We’re not that close to have secrets, Barzal.” you remind him. 

“Exactly!” he cheers, voice briefly rising as you let out a moan escape when he pushes himself deeper through your heated walls. Mat hurriedly locks your mouth with his, swallowing all your moans before continuing with his case. 

“That’s the point. We’re not that close so we shouldn’t be keeping anything from each other. You tell me everything. Good or bad, and I’ll do the same.” 

You shoot him a questioning look, pushing him briefly so you could position yourself on top of him. Your action was very much well-received on Mathew’s end and it’s amazing how he’s able to lift you close to his torso before the two of you roll over the switch-game without letting his dick slip out of you. 

“Are you saying we’re going to be in a relationship? You’re way over your head, mister.” you laugh because it was exactly what it sounded. At least for you.

Mat rolls his eyes as he takes a pillow to support his back. His hands then roamed from your thighs before settling to cage your hips to lock it with his, “First of all, bold of you to assume that’s ever gonna happen.” 

You scoff.

“Second, it’s more of a mutual agreement and definitely less than a relationship.” he points out to reiterate that having said ‘relationship’ with you was the last thing he wanted. 

Your hands take rest atop his chest as you start working on rocking your hips at a gentle pace; the kind that had Mathew at a loss for words for a moment, his body taking over his mind as your physique towers all over him. Mathew meets you halfway while you do most of the work. He angles himself forward so as to reach for your tits, his mouth latching on one of your buds, thirsty like a newborn child. Your fingers find their way to his tousled hair, its disheveled state unbelievably making him much more difficult to resist. 

The two of you worked each of your own highs whilst you rock each other’s bodies. Exchanging moans and groans thrown carelessly throughout the room. You were all over Mathew as much as he was with you. His strong and capable hands that moved so well on your body, made you crave for more. Mathew took control of the pace now, his arms embracing your waist closer to his body that no amount of spatial space could ever be perceived by either of you.

“Come for me.” Mat orders, voice almost inaudible as he was chasing his own, the moment he feels you throb rapidly around him, fluttering like butterflies while he watches you shut your eyes. Just like that, you finally reach the ecstasy you’ve been longing for the whole night; one that was specifically shut down by Mathew’s stale mouth.

You let Mat take over. He orders you to turn your back against him before he pulls you rapidly close to his front, your ass perked up close to his skin. His mouth leaves fashioned bites on your neck whilst he held you firmly by your forearm. Mathew begins pounding on you hard from behind, his sharp and abrupt movements painting bruises you know will show up the next morning. 

You were all over the place and you didn’t care. It was messy, it was loud. The sound Mathew’s lips leave on your skin, his balls banging against your pussy, your moans— his groans. Everything was off the record book but neither of you wanted to stop. 

With one final thrust, you feel his body grow all the more rigid behind you. Mathew’s hand was wrapped firmly around your neck whilst he caught his breath. 

“You good back there, bud?” you ask, chuckling. 

“Oh, shut up.” he says, finally letting you go. 

The two of you gather yourselves. Mat discards the wrapper and offers to clean up after the mess he’d made but you profusely decline. 

“I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t have to take care of me.” you tell him with a strong suit as you begin picking up your clothes. 

“I know–” he cuts himself off when he sees you getting into your pants, “Where are you going?” he questions. 

“Rule four. No staying the night.” you point out, grabbing your sweatshirt from the floor. “You come to my room, I come to yours, but that’s that. No more, no less.” you add. 

Mathew looks stunned. Obviously on board with how well you were taking things so easily. 

“Alright then, buddy.” he strides his way towards his bed still naked. 

“We don’t speak about any of this in the morning.” you warn him for you know how the three of you tend to leave the house almost at the same exact time as each other. Meaning that this new setup of yours is bound to be much difficult if you let anything slip off your hold. 

Mathew runs his fingers on his lips as if to zip it before he jumps on the bed, already reaching for his phone that was on his bedside table so he could check the gram.

You were just on your way out of his door when he called you one last time, a teasing smile creeping on his lips, “What’s rule five?”

“No funny business.” you say at once. You look at him one last time with your own teasing smile to mock him from across the room, “No strings attached.” you say, repeating how he used the movie as a reference from a while back before finally disappearing into the hall. 

𖥸

Who would have known agreeing to such a set up would mean getting laid almost every chance you get?

It had been a few weeks since you and Mat committed to your foolish escapades after sorting out your mutual agreement. Said escapades involve a handful of times of you driving over to the Coli to pick him up right after his morning skate and get off the back of your car. It wasn’t that big of a deal being that Mathew usually rides with Anthony for work. Of course, there were also times where you would call him into your office just to grab a quick lunch. On those times you always make sure to leave out at least half an hour or so before going home to avoid unnecessary suspicions from Tito and you and Mathew have been mindful so as not to let him notice anything. 

Mat had mentioned how he was already looking for a place nearer to yours and Tito’s but farther than his previous complex. The place was half an hour less than the travelling time Tito had to drive to from when they used to ride together going home. And now that you were officially friends and more than just acquaintances, Mat has asked you to come and see the place with him. 

You took a lift on your way to Mat’s and let’s just say, that for a man with a whopping 21M at his disposal, the building was grand but it wasn’t as boujee as you’ve expected. It might’ve been your lack of a better judgement but Mathew just didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who would be smart when it comes to his finances. You’ve always thought that he was the kind to splurge on things whenever he gets the chance. Although much to your surprise, just like everyone else, he was a simple man. 

You knock on the door a few times before you hear the familiar footsteps nearing the front door. 

“Hey,”  a signature grin welcomes you. He opens the door wider and invites you in. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, I had better things to do, Barzal.” you retort as you start to scan the vicinity. 

The flat had floor to ceiling windows so the surroundings were well lit. You were making your way further when you noticed a few sealed boxes laying around what you assumed to be where the living space was going to be. 

“I thought you were just looking?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion whilst you look back at him, pointing on the storages with your thumb. 

As expected, the entire apartment was painted in white and beige tones. Pretty much like every Islander’s home you’ve been to. It was quite spacious just like his former home. That being said, spacious doesn’t necessarily mean ‘good’ sometimes. For one thing, it didn’t feel home to you. It felt like a cage with huge-ass windows overlooking a scenery you can’t even lay your hand on. You keep your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to ruin Mat’s excitement for the place. Sure enough, it’ll all come together once he gets settled. 

Mat walks towards you, taking a deep breath. “I was. But the offer was really good so I figured signing the lease right away would be a smart move.” he explains. When he sees your gaze trail off onto the boxes again, Mat feels the need to reassure you that he wasn’t going to move out of your apartment just yet. 

“I won’t be moving in for another month or two, just to be clear. Those are just some stuff I didn’t want hogging all the space at home.” he says candidly pertaining to your apartment as his home, not even realizing the weight he had tied to his words. 

You were quick to dismiss your own unsolicited thoughts and carried on with the semi-tour Mat was starting to indulge you with. “Are you sure you’re gonna live here alone? Feels like a whole penthouse up here.” you honestly say, half-laughing as you make way towards the hallway. 

“Yeah. I mean, it would be great for when the team comes over.” he says as he follows your tracks. “The penthouse is actually two floors above mine though.”

You roll your eyes at his subtle remark, “Why’d you made me come here anyway?”

And as if Mat had remembered the task he originally had in mind, he walks right past you to lead the way. “I want your opinion on something.” 

“Really? What is it?” you inquire, following after his footsteps. Mat stops and opens a door leading to what you assume is the master bedroom. Situated at the center of the fairly spacious room is a california king sized bed, waiting patiently to be slept on. 

Mat looks back at you and says, “D’you think it’s any good?” 

He lets you roam around the place, setting yourself down on the foot of the bed. “Bed’s nice actually.” you tell him and you stand at once to look more of his semi-furnished room. 

“How nice is it exactly? Like, nice to sleep on or nice to not get any at all?” you turn around, rolling your eyes at his sleazy innuendos. “You’re such a tool. You really made me come all the way here to get me tied down this bed?” 

Mat only answers with a shrug. An adorable one to be exact. “What? That’s what friends are for, y/n. Now, come on. Test the bed with me.” he says, taking your hand at once before you could even answer. He lets himself fall onto the bed as he caught your weight in his arms, your bodies dangerously close to each other, feeling your own body temperatures. 

His hands roam around your clothed physique just as he starts to cage you in a well heated kiss. Your lips dance with his, letting his tongue slip whenever he gets the chance, nibbling on your tongue as the two of you enjoy exchanging your own take on what house warming gifts are supposed to look like. 

Mat’s hands were already gripping on the curve of your ass when the sound of your and Mathew’s kisses were stopped by a sudden knock on the door. Your hand immediately trailed down from Mat’s nape to his chest, “Are you expecting someone?”, he thinks for a second, both of his hands still secured on your bottoms.

“Oh!” he gasps upon remembering who could it possibly be, “It’s probably my realtor. He’s picking some stuff up, I’ll go get it.” he says, propping himself up as a cue for you to get off of him. 

“Would you mind getting the door? I’ll be quick, I promise.” he adds, looking back at you as he steps out of the room, heading for the other side of the hallway. He speaks in an apologetic tone, feeling sorry for having to cut off the purpose of your visit. So, in an effort to let him know he had nothing to worry about, you shake your head as you finish straightening the wrinkles off your work clothes. 

“No, it’s all right, I got it.” you give him a reassuring smile.

You gladly make your way towards the door, not even bothering to look through the hole. You hand enveloped the cold metal, swinging the door wide open, leaving yourself not a chance at escape as soon as your eyes landed on those all too familiar big blue ones you’ve known all your life.

“Y/N?” a puzzled expression was all you could make out of Tito’s face. You tried stumbling for a few words in the hopes of calming your already racing heart impending to escape your chest at any moment. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks in utmost bewilderment. You were still in shock being that you’ve never lied to Anthony before since he’s the only one you’ve told everything to most of the time. Having him here, clearly unexpected, has evidently thrown you off guard.

You maintain your gaze at him and throw the same question back, “What are you doing here?”

“Mat and I are going out with Mikey and Noah for drinks.” he answers quickly so he could throw the ball your way, “You didn’t answer me. I didn’t know you knew about this place already?” he furrows his brows, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his best mate. 

“Uhm. Mat called me to discuss a few things. Showed me some stuff too.” you nervously say, tip toeing on the fact that what you just told him wasn’t entirely a lie. You open the door all the way and finally let him in. Your knuckles were wrapped hard around the cold metal knob, wishing that Mat would come out to the room to save your ass. 

You must have gotten on a wrong foot and told Tito a lie that’s bound to invite more suspecting queries.

“Really? What stuff?” 

His bed, where he was just about to defile me on. 

Thankfully, Mat walks out the open room holding an envelope in his hand, immediately halting his tracks the moment he sees Anthony looking straight at him. 

“Beau! What–” he tries to remain composed, but you know Tito would definitely pick up on something just by how pale Mat’s face was. Dead and cold like someone who had seen a ghost for the first time. 

“What— am I doing here?” Anthony finishes Mat’s question just as he turns his gaze back at you. You try to avert his gaze but you figured it’s best not to. You need to go before him strong and level headed. The last thing you and Mathew want is to get caught in the act by no other than the last person you want to know about it. 

“What?” He laughs, brushing Tito’s biting tone off. “I know why you’re here, silly.” he tries to search in his head momentarily, but when he takes long enough, Tito answers it for him. “Drinks, man. You texted me for drinks.”

“Oh– yeah, no. I knew that.” he breathes out an uneasy laugh. 

“Why is Y/N here? I didn’t know you guys hung out? The last time I checked you can’t even last in the same room without slashing each other’s throats.” he smirks.

Surprisingly, Mat was fast enough to come up with quite a clever way to sway Anthony from his inkling suspicions. One that made sense, but not necessarily helpful in your end. “Psh. That?” Mat throws a hand towards your way, dismissing your presence in his unfurnished apartment, “She told me she needs money so I hired her to move my boxes for me. She even insisted on listing all the stuff I’ll eventually get rid of online.” 

Anthony looks back at you, surprised that you didn’t go and asked for his help instead. “How much do you pay her?” he asks Mat again. 

“Uh, five… ten bucks?” Mat scratches the back of his head and your face immediately falls to your palm. 

“Ten?” he questions, glancing at you. “Don’t you have your own office and a secretary? What do you need the ten bucks for?” Tito’s tone was now getting more curious and Mat, just like he always was, was dumb enough to forget you were earning more than just ten bucks for a living. 

“Did I say ten? I meant fifty— per hour.” Mathew takes it back instantly, following it with a lie that involves you asking him for a job because your publisher ordered you to for a book she wants you to sign for. Not that any of it made sense but at least Anthony seemed to have bought it. When you agree, Mat immediately takes Anthony in his arms as he guides him out to the door, snatching his coat resting atop his kitchen island. 

Mat looks over to you once more, both of their bodies already at the other side of the door, “You did great today, y/n. I’ll write you a check in the morning!” he says pushing Tito, who was still asking questions, farther from the door. 

Before Mathew disappears, he looks at you with his big doe eyes already thanking you for going along such a stupid make-up excuse. You roll your eyes as you watch him mouth a quiet ‘Sorry’, flashing his ever so gorgeous smile before him and Tito finally went on their way.  

𖥸

You’ve gotten used to how lazy Mat and Tito are during their off days. They would rather stay at home and play endless video games with each other than spending it with something less dumb than their stupid Xbox. Luckily, today wasn’t like those days because you happened to have your free day as well. You all agreed to spend the evening binging the entire Fast and Furious franchise. 

The three of you were cramped on the cloud couch. To put it in simply, you were sandwiched between two huge hockey players. Your back was leaning on Tito’s strong shoulders as it was laying just above your head. The huge bowl of half-eaten popcorn safely sits in between your middle, hugged by your stomach and your curled up legs, your sock-covered feet brushing against Mat’s thighs innocently. Almost as innocent as how you ignore Mathew’s hands creeping underneath the thick wool covering your body. 

Alarmed at how dangerously close Mat’s creeping palm was to your inner thigh, you shot him a warning look which was, as expected, answered by a defensive, and seemingly harmless “What?” look on his face. You roll your eyes, cautious as to not make any sharp movements for the benefit of Tito. You shift your position, angling your body away from Mathew and towards the direction of the screen instead. You let your body sink in your best friend’s shoulder, clueless that your movement had just given Mat the exact opening he was hoping for. 

With wide eyes, you give Mat’s thigh a firm nudge as carefully as you can, “Are you being serious right now?” you mouthed. Mat stifles a smirk and moves his hand away, keeping it to himself. You try turning your attention back to the television but somehow, Mathew’s actions left your mind wondering what he was about to do next. 

Gently, you stir back to your original position, propping yourself from leaning against Tito. 

“Hey, could you please fill this up for me?” you ask him nicely. Thankfully, Anthony reaches out for the bowl without letting his eyes break off the screen. “Thanks, Beau.” you add the moment he starts walking towards the kitchen. 

“Why’d you stop?” you cautiously whisper, asking Mathew who was surprised by your sudden inquiry.

“I thought you didn’t want me to.” he answers on the same level of your tone, putting his hand back on your shin. The warmth of his palm sends a familiar sensation down your region.

Looking back at the archway leading to the kitchen, you quietly tell him, “I asked if you’re being serious. I never said no.” 

Your candidness was met by Mathew’s widening smile, incapable of stopping himself from biting his lower lip, finding your bluntness quite adorable. “Be quiet.” he mutters as he clears his throat, eyeing Tito who was just returning from the kitchen holding a bowl full of popcorn fresh from the microwave. 

“Thank you.” you say the moment Anthony hands you the bowl. You scootch over, making you a lot closer to Mat. Tito places his arm back over the couch, allowing extra space for you. Once you got yourself in a position comfortable enough to last for the remaining half of the movie, your mind flies away, briefly forgetting the exchange you and Mathew just had. 

It was not even a full minute when you feel Mat’s very much capable hand start creeping underneath the thick cloth again. You swallow a giant lump in your throat, your senses already heightened just by the mere contact of his rough and calloused hand on your skin. 

You were wearing a pair of sweat shorts, the kind that were loose enough to let Mat maneuver his way deeper down your thighs so effortlessly. You steal quick glances towards his way but to no avail, Mat’s eyes were nowhere else other than the screen. His fingers, however, told quite a different story. 

You did the exact thing as him and put your sole focus on the movie. The sound of Anthony’s breathing was a good reminder to not let anything slip off of you unconsciously, especially now that Mat’s long fingers were inching its way to the thin fabric covered by your night wear. 

Mat begins to brush his middle finger over your delicates. You bury a part of your face underneath the thick cloth whilst your eyes are still pinned on the screen. The scene where Dom goes rogue plays and the light of the television flashes before your eyes. 

You tried to listen to Tito when he tells you about that time you went to the movies to see the film, trying to space out from Mat’s finger drawing idle circles on the thin fabric of your underwear, easing you just right, evidently taking his time fondling in between your clothed lips.

When he feels your moistness on his skin, Mat sophisticatedly slides a finger in your underwear just so he could feel the wetness of your folds. 

You on the one hand, keep your face hidden under the only light flashing from the screen. You manage to choke down your whimpers and instead lean your force towards the bowl you’re holding. However, you fail to stifle a gasp when Mat slides a finger inside you, making you stir just enough to stop your sudden movement from being unnoticed by Beauvillier. 

“You okay?” he asks, a concerned tone embracing his voice. You meekly nod, saying that you were just too caught up watching the film. He then takes his attention back, pretty much like the grinning Mathew sitting on the other end. 

You shoot a knowing look when you meet Mat’s irises. He casually plays it off just as he remains busy on his own, his fingers curling inside you with ease, pumping in and out at a slow pace, not wanting to let any of his movements show on the surface of your blanket. As Mat continues pleasuring you, you gather all your strength to stay still and calm your breathing. To no prevail however, knowing how good of a fucker Mat was, you knew you won’t be able to hold it in longer than you’re supposed to. 

Your heart almost beats right out your chest when Anthony’s phone starts to ring. You prop yourself up, causing Mat’s finger to do just the same inside you. You shut your eyes at the feeling and chose to clear your throat. 

Anthony takes his phone and looks at the two of you, “I need to take this. Just watch the movie without me.” he says, already standing to head for the balcony at the other side of the room. You sigh in relief, letting yourself fall back on where Tito used to sit, allowing more space for Mat’s miraculous fingers. 

He adjusts his seat, cautiously looking back after Tito’s track just to make sure he was no longer near the two of you. He looks at you, attention faltering from the screen as he slides another finger inside you. 

“Don’t make a sound. Stay still.” he orders, pumping his way in just as he glides his thumb to massage your clit. Your hand takes rest on your forehead, your eyes closed at every pleasure thrown your way, almost forgetting that you were holding a bowl full of finger food on your stomach. Mat must’ve caught on and ensured no unnecessary noises would make Anthony come back just yet when he takes the bowl off your middle to set it down the coffee table. 

“Fucking hell, Mat.” you can’t help but moan, arching your back once you feel your arousal come close. 

“Do it, y/n. Come on my fingers.” he growls in a low register, moving his way into hitting the spot at just the right speed, not wanting to prolong your misery any longer. 

You reach for his hands, your grip on him tighter than ever. Mat feels you come around his finger, eyes pinned on your spent up state harder than it was when the two of you were still watching the movie. When he feels your pulsating core starts to die down, he slips his fingers out your slit, eventually taking it in his mouth to suck your far too addicting juices.

You fix yourself up, eyeing Tito who had just ended his call. Mat looks at you, quite proud of himself.

“At least your fingers make up for what that pretty mouth can’t.” you say with a taunting smirk before standing up to get yourself a glass of water just as Beau finally comes back from the balcony, leaving Mathew with his mouth slightly agape and without a doubt dumbfounded.

𖥸

It was an hour before midnight but the house was already asleep. The boys had to call the night early because of the morning practice they have first thing tomorrow. But you still had some energy left so you figured drawing yourself a calming bath would help soothe your mind and maybe even up the chances of having yourself a well-deserved good night’s sleep. 

Now that you’re feeling better and getting ready for bed, your bathrobe hugs your body whilst you finish off your night routine so you could finally dip into the comfort of your sheets, the cream white duvet calling onto you as you picture yourself dozing off for the night. 

The strides you were just making out of your bathroom were put into a stop by how your door sprung open wildly, revealing one troubled Mathew Barzal entering your room almost a little too carelessly. 

“What the hell did you mean my mouth can’t?!” he questions at once, hissing. When he realizes the sudden rise in his voice, (which has also startled you in the process), Mathew immediately looks back just to make sure that Anthony was in his room, or far enough to hear. He shuts the door behind him before he finally turns his attention back to you. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask him, putting both your hands on your hips, your body covered by nothing else but a bathrobe. 

“The thing you said back in the living room, my mouth can’t what? What the hell did that suppose to mean??” Mat roars like a child’s impending tantrum was about to come. You avert his gaze for a moment, scratching your temple. You couldn’t believe something you’ve said stuck to him. Not that he’d ever do anything about it. Something you most absolutely doubt. 

“If you had to come here to ask me that, I’m pretty sure you already got what I meant.” you say, walking towards your bed as you get the bottle of your vanilla scented lotion from your bedside table. 

“But all those times it looked like you were having a good time?” he speaks, voice in a lower register as if he was talking to himself all along. 

“I was faking it Mat.” you finish off applying lotion on your legs, spreading the remaining on your hands. You met Mat’s gaze and saw that you might’ve tipped him off a little for there was a faint hurt in his eyes. 

“You were faking it?” he repeats in a quiet voice.

“You’re still good in bed, buddy.” you assure him with a smile yet to no prevail, Mat didn’t seem to buy any of what you said thinking that it was just a decent effort to save his ego already plummeting to the pit of his own embarrassment. 

“How many times have you been faking it?” he asks the moment he gathers his thoughts, his mind circling on the fact that all throughout this time he wasn’t able to get you off.

“You’ve only had the chance to do it twice. So… just those two.” you answer honestly. 

Mathew, who was utterly clueless to what was going on didn’t know how to react to such bluntness. He tried to mutter a few words but he was speechless. All this time, he thought he was good at something he obviously wasn’t. And being told something as morally immobilizing as that shocks him to his very core. The horror of all the girls he’s slept with, walking out of his apartment unsatisfied befalls on him. 

“You should’ve told me, otherwise this whole setup won’t make any sense, y/n. I thought you said we shouldn’t lie?” he questions, evidently disappointed in himself. 

“Look,” you stop, tapping on the side of the bed to have a proper conversation. When Mat finally sits beside you, you continue, “I didn’t think it mattered. And no offense but we both know you’re such a sore loser. I didn’t know how you would react. And I definitely didn’t want to deal with any of the messy stuff just to feed your ego.”

“For your information, I’m a thick faced motherfucker, you should’ve known that by now. This thing between us is going to be complicated if you’ll tiptoe your way around it just to spare my feelings.” he says with certainty, a definitive tone accentuated by how intense he was now looking at your face, still glowing from your night care routine. 

“Is there something I don’t do?” he adds, “Or is it something that I should stop doing?”

“Fine. If you really wanna talk about this I’ll tell you.” you angle yourself facing him and Mat does the same, “You’re not entirely bad. You do know your way around. It’s just that— you’re trying a little too hard and it gets really overwhelming at times. And mind you, it isn’t even the good kind,”

“Show me.” Mat cuts you before you could grab the chance to continue, stopping you mid sentence, causing you to stumble on a few words. “What?” 

“I won’t leave this room knowing I can’t get you off.” he says, and just like that, Mathew meets your lips with an all too hungry mouth eager to make you come for him even if it takes having to have endless runs at it. 

Your body achingly responds to every bit of Mathew’s kisses whilst you let him run the course. His touches are tantalizing, urging you to come near him. He takes you in his arms, one fondling on your robe to pull it free from your body, the other tugging lightly on your hair just as he begins to move his weight on top of you.

“Tell me what you want.” Mat breathes the moment he breaks away, his mouth now travelling down the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, leaving faint bites, nibbling on it just before he makes his way down to fondle on your breasts. 

You answer him with a muffled moan when he takes your lips yet again. Mat’s irises unwaveringly gazes on your buck nakedness, your scent just enough to take over his senses. You feel the roughness of his hands graze all over your skin. Pinching on one of your buds just before it travels down your thighs, staying out of the place where he knew you needed him most. You feel him in every inch of your skin but there.

But just as you want him more, Mat purposely leaves it out of his hold. You begin to realize how much you must’ve underestimated what this forward could do. His hands were everything and you couldn’t even put into words how much you need him down there. 

“Mat…” you call out his name, groaning. His featherlight touches flowed smoothly on your inner thigh, grazing just your lips but even that was more than enough to tell him how wet you already were for him. 

He begins to leave wet kisses in between your breasts down to your stomach. Kisses that eventually made their way to your thighs as he inched his way to your core, the sloppy noise he makes sounds so beautiful in your ears. You look down on Mat trying to compose yourself under all the breathing he’s subtly passing your middle. 

“What do you want?” Mat asks again, this time his doe eyes meeting yours, clouded with lust and desire. You buck your hips upward in an effort to meet his mouth but Mat was rather quick to put you back in your place when he cages your hips with his capable arm. 

“Use your words, y/n.” he orders, one that has effortlessly made you oblige. You wanted to feel him more than anything else and if that meant submitting to Mat this time, you know full well you’d gladly break before him. 

“I want you to get me off.” you surrender, signaling him to take the plunge. Once he did, you let out a whimper at his touch, almost forgetting that Mathew was probably doing this so he could eat out his future girl right.

“Don’t rush.” you breathed as you guided him, “Stay slow and steady.” 

Mathew’s eyes never left yours even when you had to look away when you let your head fall back on your sheets with how well he was moving with everything you say. 

“Mathew…” you moan, reaching for his hair to take him closer to your throbbing core, “Go on circles, please.” 

Mat was obedient and followed your every command. Unlike the times he’s spent trying to pleasure you with his mouth, tonight was a time where he actually listened and gave you exactly what you wanted, exactly how you want it.

Mat didn’t have to do anything else for when he started to slip into your cunt and fuck you with his tongue, you going insane was more than enough to let him know that he was doing it right. He watched you fall before him, your chest heaving, your breathing rapid as if there wasn’t enough air for you to breathe. He entwines both his fingers atop your abdomen, the sound of you calling his name like a prayer doing all kinds of wonders on his end. 

You meet his eyes yet again just to see that it never left. Mat looked at you darker than ever before and for once, you feel a firm tug in your stomach you just weren’t ready to acknowledge and care for. As he takes time with his final strokes, knowing that you were close, Mat pulls away, thinking about the one thing he knows will redeem himself. 

“Turn around.” he orders with a grim voice. You were in dire need of an orgasm to even care about how he’s the one ordering you. You gladly oblige to his every whim and turned to your belly, your ass perked up so perfectly for him.

He lets your robe fall just above your back, revealing more of your skin for him to enjoy. He takes no second to waste and kneels before your already swollen pussy. Needy and very much heated for him.

Mat’s hands spread your cheeks before he takes you in his mouth once again, letting himself drown in your juices glinting under his all too heavy gaze. 

“Oh, god.” you whine, feeling Mat’s grin behind you as you dig into your sheets while your legs begin to shake at your incoming orgasm. “Mat, please.” you call out in a whimper, pushing your ass back further his face. 

Mat gladly takes the challenge but maintains at the pace you wanted. As he feels your pussy flutter in his mouth, he deepens it into yours to finally pour you with nothing else but ecstasy and ecstasy alone.

His face was filled with nothing but your juices once he pulled away, leaving you breathless and still caught up on meeting your high. He stands, a hand gripping on one of your cheeks whilst he admires the art that is: your all too spent pussy.

“Next time you lie, you won’t get to fake it at all.” he warns with a firm yet definitive voice masked as a taunting remark. 

Mat looks at your still throbbing pussy, eyes lustful and dark. As much as he craved for the inkling fire resting in his loins, it was already past midnight and he had self-discipline stronger than anyone else’s. He couldn’t afford any more scolding from Anders the next morning. 

So, even when he wanted nothing but to fuck you right then and there, he lets his hand send a message he certainly wants you to remember instead. One that has left a faint yet stinging mark on your skin. Your legs were practically still wobbling when he finally leaves for the door, this time fueled with the purpose of being the one leaving you dumbfounded in your own post-orgasm shame.

Perhaps, even wanting and more.

[xjoonchildx]

last call | jjk x reader

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: 18+

word count: 4.4K

synopsis: jeon jungkook is the hottest bartender in the city. everyone has their sights set on him, but it seems he has his sights set on you.

warnings: oral (female receiving), protected sex, jungkook thirst, excessive jungkook thirst, hello we’re talking about jungkook here -- there is a jungkook-sized amount of thirst, unsanitary use of a space designated for food and beverage

A/N: this fic is a commission for the @ficswithluv​ special project “Changes with Luv”. The awesome @dee-ehn​ made a donation to BLM for this fic and she asked for sexy times with long-haired JK with tattoos and dammit that’s what she’s gonna get.  Thanks so much for making the donation, this is a cool way for authors like me to pitch in for an important cause!

*********************

Jeon Jungkook is the sexiest man in this city.

That’s not a matter of opinion, that’s an actual fact -- voted into law by you and the rest of the Council of The Thirsty after a night of downing shots at The Black Swan.  The four of you piled into the bar’s single-stall restroom to check lipstick and chat shit and it was decided, that was that.

The Black Swan is open long after the other nearby bars and restaurants have locked up for the night. After the tables have been cleared and the tips have been counted, it’s where just about everyone who works in the service industry in this part of town ends up for a post-shift nightcap. They’re drawn by the late hours and the strong drinks and, well --

Jeon Jungkook.

On any given night, his bar is packed with flirts -- men and women alike -- all hoping for just a taste of his attention.  You can’t blame them, really.  It’s far too easy to get lost in Jungkook’s massive, dark eyes, or that slow, confident smile.  And it’s far too hard to look away when he tucks an errant strand of inky hair behind his ear or when he rolls his sleeves up to reveal those toned forearms covered with tattoos.

Jungkook works his bar with the confidence of a man who understands his magnetism, a man who understands why people get sucked into his orbit and never want to leave. 

Suckers just like you.

*************************

Jägermeister is totally fucking disgusting and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

You’ve just bellied up to the bar to grab a drink when Jeon Jungkook drops a shot of the foul shit right in front of you.  The look you give him is equal parts confused and revolted.

“What’s this?” 

“Oh, come on,” he teases with a smile, “You work at a bar.  Don’t tell me you don’t recognize a shot of Jäger.”

“Oh, I recognize it,” you tease back. “I just refuse to acknowledge it.  Who sent this to me?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes playfully, pulls another shot glass from under the bar and pours himself a shot of the dark, thick liqueur.

He holds it up in the air and waits for you to do the same.

“I did.”

Your eyebrows shoot sky-high in surprise.  Jeon Jungkook buying you a shot? 

You’re probably just in the right place at the right time, you reason. The lucky recipient of a free drink because he’s in the mood to get one, too.  

Or unlucky, you correct yourself -- looking down at the glass.  But one more look at Jungkook and you know there’s no way you’re going to refuse the offering.  

You’re picky, but you’re damned sure not stupid.

You raise your shot glass in the air and Jungkook looks pleased.

“Bottoms up,” he says, eyes twinkling.

***********************

Something strange happens a few nights later.  

You’re seated at a high-top near the bar with your girlfriends when you hear Jungkook call something out across the room.  Your friends freeze, wide eyes and shocked stares focused on you for one awkward moment.

He says it again, this time louder -- and there’s no mistaking it.

It’s your name.

You ignore the frantic whispering of your girlfriends and stand up from your seat at the high-top to approach Jungkook’s bar.  He’s leaned over it, hands bracing the dark wood -- pen tucked neatly behind his ear.  His long dark hair is pulled back into a glossy knot, but one lock has fallen into his eyes.  

He looks insanely good -- but honestly, what’s new?

You clear your throat before you approach so you don’t croak your way through whatever comes next.  Spine straight, you get close, slide into a barstool and do your best to appear casual.

“What’s up?” 

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna threaten you with any more shots of Jäger,” he laughs, flashing his million-watt smile.  You smile back, hoping he can’t hear the holy shits and what the fucks flying at the table behind you.  “I’ve got something else for you tonight.”

“Okay,” you breathe, dazzled by the personal attention he’s bestowing on you.  “What’s on the menu?”

Jungkook reaches for two fresh shot glasses and pulls a heavy amber bottle from the well behind his bar.

“Grand Marnier,” you answer for him, watching as he pours you both a shot.  “An upgrade from Jäger, that’s for sure,” you tease.

He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the most goddamned adorable way possible.  “I figured this might be more your speed.”

Figured how? As far as you know, he doesn’t know a thing about you -- apart from the fact that you usually drink a vodka tonic.

And your name, apparently.  How does he know your name, anyway?

“Cheers,” he says in that low, sexy voice, and you shiver.

“Cheers,” you agree, tongue swiping at the taste of the sweet liqueur on your lips.  

Jungkook’s eyes darken for a split-second and heat creeps up your neck.

“So, um -- how do you know my name?”

You can thank the alcohol for giving you the courage to ask.  Sober you wouldn’t be nearly so forward.

Jungkook shrugs.  “I’ve seen it on your credit card.”

“Ah,” you smile.  “Well, thanks, again.  Next time, I’ll be the one buying, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he grins.

But as you’re walking back to your table something dawns on you.  

You turn and head back to the bar.

“Hold on a second,” you say, eyes narrowed at Jungkook.  “I’ve never paid with a credit card here.  I always pay my tab in cash.”

“Hmmm,” he murmurs -- and fuck if the slow smile that spreads across his features doesn’t make your panties wet right then and there.  

“Is that right?”

**************************

“Jeon Jungkook wants to fuck you.”

“For the love of God, Tifa,” you hiss, ducking your head.  “Keep your voice down.  Jungkook and every last one of his ancestors can hear you when you’re talking that loud.”

Tifa shrugs, unbothered.

“I said what I said,” she sniffs, checking for non-existent dirt under her nails.  “You see any of us getting free shots from The Golden One? Or any of the other women in here, for that matter?”

Well, she’s kind of got a point there, doesn’t she?

You have no idea why you seem to have captured Jeon Jungkook’s attention, but you’re not going to question it, that’s for sure. You’re going to enjoy your good fortune while it lasts.

“He’s being nice,” you argue, and even you aren’t buying it the second the lame deflection comes out of your mouth.  Tifa rolls her eyes.

“You know what else would be nice? Getting dicked down by the hottest man in town.  Wouldn’t that be nice?”

You sigh.  

It would be, actually.  The part of your brain that entertains such outlandish fantasies has been working overtime these days, imagining exactly what that would be like.  Imagining the body that lies underneath that sinfully fitted shirt and the almost-too-tight-but-not-quite jeans.  

Jungkook certainly walks and talks and moves like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing in bed.  You’d love nothing more than to know if there’s any truth to that theory.

You chance a glance over your shoulder, back to the bar -- and Jungkook is deep in conversation with a patron.  She’s leaning over the bar, practically throwing herself at the man, but he looks away from her to catch sight of you.  His picture-perfect face breaks into a wide smile and you break into a sweat.

“See what I mean?” Tifa asks, brow raised when you turn back to face her.  “The man is trying to fuck you.  I’ll be right here after he does, waiting to say I told you so.”

You sputter a laugh into the rim of your glass.

“We’ll see about that, T.”

*************************

Nothing ruins the end of a night of drinking quite like last call.

All the fun screeches to a halt when the house lights come on.  No one looks good under the harsh fluorescents that hum to life as tabs are being paid and drinks are being slammed and tables are being wiped -- no one.

Well, no one except for Jeon Jungkook, of course.

He’s in the weeds tonight -- trying to settle tabs for at least twenty people all trying to cash out at the same time.  He nods in your direction to confirm he’s seen you, that he’ll get to you -- that eventually you’ll get your chance to pay.

So you wait.  And wait.

The crowd starts to thin as Jungkook closes tabs at top speed -- tip jar flush with obscene amounts of cash.  No one tips better than people who make a living on them -- and tonight is no exception.  From what you can tell it’s been a good night for Jungkook.  

Hell, every night is probably a good night when you’re Jeon Jungkook.

You sip what’s left of your vodka tonic and scroll through your phone while you patiently wait for your turn -- then promptly lose track of time.

How long have you been sitting here? 

It’s only when your ears pick up on the echo in this place that you look up from the screen.  Jungkook is cashing some guy out -- and as you take a look around you realize this guy must be the last person in this place. 

Correction -- you are the last person in this place, or at least you will be in about thirty seconds. 

Your pulse picks up as Jungkook wraps the transaction and sends the guy out the door with a friendly wave.  You’re definitely the only two people left in The Black Swan now, no doubt.

“So uh -- ” you drag the sound out on a nervous breath, “ -- I still need to pay my tab.”

Jungkook flips the house lights back off before sauntering to your end of the bar, wearing his most dangerous smile. He dries his hands with the towel at his waist then sets it aside.

“Your tab was paid hours ago.”

Oh.

“Because you paid it,” you say slowly, forcing yourself to drag your eyes from the man’s muscled thighs and trim waist to his flawless face.  Your heart stops a bit at the smirk you find when you finally get there.

“Yup.”

You grab for what’s left of your vodka tonic and slug it down.  

Jungkook laughs.

“You want me,” he says, fingers working the top buttons of his fitted shirt open.  You watch with wide eyes, so distracted by the action that you barely process what he’s said.

“Wait, what?” you ask in a daze.

“You want me,” he repeats casually, like it’s no big deal.  His fingers stop only a few buttons down, the tease -- but he chooses that same moment to pull his hair out of the loose knot he’s been wearing all night.  The dark strands fall into his face and you stare like a moron.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, weakly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jungkook teases.  “My vision is 20/20.  My hearing is pretty good, too -- though it would be pretty hard not to overhear the things you and your friends say about me.”

Dammit, Tifa, I told you to keep your voice down.

“Yikes,” you murmur on a shaky laugh.  “That’s embarrassing.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he says with no hesitation.  “‘Cause I want you, too.”

You pull back from the bar so far, your stool nearly tips over. Jungkook waits for you to right yourself in amused silence.  Then he waits for you to speak.

“I’m, I  -- “ you sputter, searching for things like words and thoughts.  Jungkook’s brows lift as he awaits whatever is on the other end of that sentence.  “ -- I think I need another drink.”

Jungkook winks before reaching down to pull glasses from under the bar.  He sets a brown bottle with a familiar orange label down beside them.  You hold your breath when you see him walk out from behind the bar to slide into the stool next to yours.

“Fireball,” you say thickly, watching him pour the cinnamon liqueur into the shot glasses.  He nods, handing you your glass.

“Think this will help?” he asks, smiling wickedly.  

“No way to know but to do it,” you smile back.

You clink the glasses together before draining them.

You can almost feel the alcohol working its way through your veins.  The warm burn of it starts in your throat, slides low into your belly and spreads out through your arms and legs.  

“Think that did the trick?” he asks in a low voice, dark eyes fixed on your every move.  He leans closer.

“I don’t know,” you admit. He’s close enough now you can smell the warm cinnamon on his breath.  Between the booze and the hormones, you’re starting to feel a little reckless.  “That depends.  Are you trying to fuck me in this bar?”

“Absolutely,” Jungkook deadpans.  You suck in a breath.

“Then I think we’ll probably need one more.”

Jungkook chuckles as he refills your glasses.  His eyes glint with unconcealed mischief when you knock the second round back.  This time, the warmth that spreads down your throat seems to pool between your thighs.

You dip the pad of one finger into the remnants left in the shotglass, emboldened by the buzz you can feel coming on.  Jungkook watches rapt as you slip it between your lips.  You are weightless and shameless by now, more than prepared for the moment he slips two fingers under your jaw to tip your mouth up towards his.  

He tastes like the pleasant spice in the alcohol and he smells like sweat and bodywash and your senses are overwhelmed.  Your fingers dive right into his hair, desperate to feel the silky strands between your fingertips.

“Fireball was a good idea,” Jungkook groans between kisses, hands going to your back to pull you close.  You stand out of your barstool to position yourself between his thighs.  “I like the way you think.”

He pulls away to tug at the hem of your shirt. 

“Take this off,” he orders with a quiet authority that makes you desperate to comply. His eyes are heavy-lidded; glued to the nipples pebbling underneath the thin cotton.  You cross your arms across your body and lift the shirt over your head.

Jungkook doesn’t bother to take your bra off.  You jolt with surprise when he surges forward, mouth seeking the skin peeking out of the soft cups.  He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses across the heated flesh before leaning low to graze the outline of one nipple.  You jerk at the sensation -- at the way his lips and tongue and teeth make the fabric rub against the straining buds.

“Oh, God,” you hiss, “That feels good.”

Jungkook pushes the straps of your bra off your shoulders, eyes dark and focused when your breasts spill out of the cups and your nipples are exposed to the cool air in the bar.  You shudder.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, touching his tongue to your nipples now without a barrier.  You allow yourself to run your fingers through his hair again, anchoring yourself to him to keep steady in the onslaught.

It’s bad manners that you haven’t pulled yourself together enough to thank him for the compliment, but how can you be expected to think straight when his teeth are scraping against your nipples? 

Jungkook pauses to look up at you -- eyes smoldering, lips swollen with use -- and you squirm in his hold.  “You should take these jeans off,” he whispers, fingers slipping into the belt loops. He tugs at them gently. “I wouldn’t want them to get wet.”

Oh honey -- that ship has sailed.

You nod slowly and Jungkook leans back in his stool, eyes hooded as you unbutton the denim, slide it down your legs and step out of it.  

“You gonna take any clothes off, or am I the only one stripping tonight?” you tease, shivering at the loss of his body heat. 

A slow smile spreads over his face. “We’re getting to that, I promise.”

He reaches across the bar for the bottle of Fireball and your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Wait, are you gonna -- “

“Yeah,” he cuts in, dripping the cool liquid onto your breast.  His lips swipe at the liqueur that spills over your nipple and you groan out loud.  “I own this bar,” he teases, his warm tongue a stark contrast to the cold alcohol.  “I can do whatever I want in here.”

You certainly can.

He drips more of the liquid onto a nipple and watches with satisfaction as it slides down your skin.  He laps at the cinnamon taste as his hands roam the sensitive skin of your stomach and down to the band of your panties.  Your breath hitches in your chest.

“I can do whatever I want on here, too,” he smirks, nodding at the bar.  You laugh.

“You’re the boss, right?”

“Exactly,” Jungkook winks, before his hands drop to your waist. His grip is firm as he helps lift you on to the bartop. 

You brace your hands against the wood and watch as he slips his fingers under the satin seam of your panties.  In this position, you have a front-row seat to what is sure to be the hottest sexual experience of your life.  Jungkook’s brows knit in concentration and his tongue swipes across his lips as he pulls your soaking panties away from your legs.  The sight of him preparing to debauch you on top of his bar alone could make you come.

He steadies you with firm hands to either side of your hips before dipping his head down to test your taste with a light flick of his tongue.  You buck in his grasp and he muffles his laughter against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.  “You’re not allowed to fall off of my bar,” he teases.  “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you laugh, fingertips gripping the bartop for dear life.  

Jungkook pulls his mouth away from your aching center and you damned near whine at the loss of his warmth.  But in a split-second he’s back, and so is the Fireball.  

“Just a little,” he rasps, tipping the bottle to the side.  You hiss as the frigid liquid seeps down into the crux of your thighs.  Jungkook purses his lips and blows a puff of air against you, sparking an intense tingling sensation and earning a loud whimper.  He’s satisfied with your response, if the look on his face is any indication  --  but his wicked smile disappears from view when he lowers his mouth to your center again.

“Fuck,” you gasp, head dropping back between your shoulders. “God, that feels good.”

“Tell me what it feels like,” he whispers, slipping one long, calloused finger into your channel.  The added sensation makes you whine when he swipes his tongue against your clit.  

“Like --,” you gasp and try again to formulate a thought. “Like fire and ice.”

He hums his approval of that assessment right into your cunt and you nearly break your promise not to fall off his bar.  Your arms are shaking with the same tension that is building between your legs. Jungkook pulls back to drip more of the Fireball onto your sensitive center and you shudder.

The alcohol burns a bit, a pleasant pain that is somehow heightened by Jungkook’s warm, wet mouth.  He doesn’t rush, seemingly content to take his time as you slowly come undone. 

“I’m so close,” you whimper, elbows threatening to buckle underneath you.  Jungkook finally picks up the pace, tonguing you deep as your thighs tighten in anticipation.

“I can feel how bad you want to come, sweetheart,” he goads, finger crooking inside of you, stimulating that spot that makes you feel like you can’t see straight.  “Do it.”

The moans Jungkook pulls from you in those final seconds are made all the more obscene by the echoing inside this empty bar.  Every muscle in your body tightens and then melts as your orgasm hits with the intensity of a freight train.  Jungkook seals his mouth over your cunt to capture the wetness he’s earned, prolonging the sensations, prolonging your moans. 

It takes a moment for the roar in your ears to subside, for your ability to focus to return.  When you can hear and see and think again, you look back down to the space between your thighs and find Jungkook wearing a look of utter satisfaction.

“Believe it or not, that’s the first time I’ve eaten pussy on top of my bar,” he teases, dimples emerging as his lips quirk into a smile.  “How has your service been tonight?”

“Pretty good,” you taunt, a lot ballsier with a few shots and an orgasm under your belt.  “Would be a hell of a lot better if my bartender would take his clothes off.”

Jungkook feigns a wounded look as his fingers work the rest of the buttons on his shirt open to reveal a tight white tank underneath.  He pulls that overhead and reveals the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long.  Whatever you’d imagined was lying underneath those clothes pales in comparison to the real thing.  His body looks cut from stone, his smooth skin the perfect canvas for the tattoos that run across his arms and onto his chest.

“Better now?” he chuckles.

“Not yet,” you say, savoring the power of your position on the bar.  You watch his one-woman striptease with the hint of a smile on your lips.  “The jeans have to go.”

“Bossy,” he mocks, fingers unbuttoning the dark denim.  Your jaw drops about the same time the jeans do.

“Well,” you laugh, slipping down off of the bar to stand in front of him.  “Your review has just improved.”

He smiles into the kiss you plant on him as your fingers snake between you to wrap around his cock.  He thrusts firmly into the tight grasp of your fingers as his tongue delves deep into your mouth.  He sucks in a breath when your thumb teases as the moisture gathered at the tip of his cock.

“My cock is gonna explode if I don’t bury it between those thighs,” Jungkook groans and you shudder from head to toe.  “Turn around for me.”

You do as you're told, turning away from him to brace your weight against the bartop.  You can see Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror that lines the back wall of the bar.  You watch as he grabs a condom from the back pocket of his jeans and makes quick work of rolling it down his thick length.

He presses the length of his warm body against yours, and you tense when the blunt head of his cock teases your entrance.  One hand lines up his cock and the other grips the soft skin of your hip.  He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror and your knees almost give out when he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Let me in, sweetheart.”

You arch back just as he sinks inside -- going to the hilt in one firm stroke.  

“Shit,” he groans between gritted teeth. “Fuck, that’s a tight fit.”

“Oh, God --” you gasp as he begins to rock against you.  After a few languid strokes he sets a steady rhythm, hips smacking against your ass with the force of his thrusts.

He leans over you, bracketing you in with one arm braced on the bar while the other helps guide your hip.  Your eyes fall closed and your head drops forward as you push back against him, rendered boneless by the thick slide of his cock.  The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes loud in the empty bar.

Jungkook leans down to take your earlobe between his teeth and you whimper.

“Look at me,” he orders in a whisper.  “Open your eyes.”

Your eyes snap open to find Jungkook’s reflection and the sight nearly makes you come undone for a second time.  His damp hair is falling into his face, body covered in a sheen of sweat and his mouth is curled into a dangerous smile.

“That’s it,” he murmurs when your eyes meet in the mirror.  “I want you to see how good you’re getting fucked.”

Your rhythm falters at his provocation but Jungkook refuses to let either of you get off track.  He drops both hands to your hips and begins pounding into you with relentless strokes, huffing a laugh when you squeak in response.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans, thrusts going frantic.  “Can you come for me again?”

You nod -- completely out of words -- reaching one hand down to the aching button between your thighs.  Jungkook pulls your body back against his, angling deeper into your aching cunt at the same time your shaking fingers manage to apply a light pressure to your clit.  

That’s all it takes.

You come apart a second later and Jungkook pulls your hair back to expose the column of your throat as he rides you through it.  His teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of your neck as his own orgasm starts to ignite.

His fingers grip your hips so hard you’re certain there will be bruises in the morning.  But it’s worth it -- so damned worth it when you get to watch Jeon Jungkook come undone for you.  You’ve never seen anything sexier than Jungkook with brows knit in utter concentration, mouth slack with pleasure and coming for you.  Inside of you.

 You lean against the bar, legs like noodles as he comes down from his high and seconds later, he’s slumped over you, body lax against yours.

“Hey,” he says after a moment of silence, as you’re catching your breath.  He leans his chin against your shoulder.

“Yeah?” you manage, craning your head to face him.

“Come back tomorrow and we can break open my bottle of Goldschläger.”

*********************

You wake with an ache between your temples and an ache between your legs. 

The pounding in your head is your punishment for drinking way more than you should have last night.  

The pleasant soreness lingering between your thighs is an entirely different story.  That’s the only souvenir you get to keep to commemorate the best sex of your life.  And it’s not going to stick around.

You roll over in bed and reach for your phone.

Tifa picks up on the first ring.

“I’m not even going to play the game with you, girl,” she says, in lieu of a proper greeting. “I just wanna know how it was.”

***********************

[gayregis]

Ok here’s another “talk about the Witcher” prompt for you—bonhart. What are your thoughts, other than the fact that he is absolutely vile and evil (cuz obvs)? I think he was a Witcher originally. I think he makes a really good contrast against geralt, and sort of acts as a warning to ciri for what evil her raw skills could be used for. I was really satisfied by how she was finally able to face him and kill him completely alone. BUT I think that the sudden r*pe bits in LotL are unnecessary!

i think bonhart was a necessary evil as he adds so much of the darker themes to the latter half of the witcher saga, as in that blood of elves, time of contempt, and baptism of fire were still kind of lighthearted despite that there was a lot of going down in them. vilgefortz didn’t cut it for me to function as the only villain, just because he’s quite anime-esque in the fact that i think he would anime-laugh to geralt and then explain his super long evil plan to him and be like so what do you think :) im so evil :) ... like, bonhart isn’t a villain, he’s something even worse, he doesn’t find any pleasure in dramatic speeches or flourish, he finds pleasure in sincerely hurting people and watching them in pain. he’s absolutely vile and revolting, and just the most horrible character you could possibly concieve of. vilgefortz is one of the many parties (the lodge of sorceresses, nilfgaard, the aen elle) trying to hunt ciri down for her power, but bonhart hunts down ciri not only for the bounty but just because he wants to hurt her. i’m not really certain if there’s a deeper meaning to this character other than the representation of pure trauma, which has grasped ciri after she has been abandoned by everyone she’s ever known and loved. (and/or a warning of what she could become, as you said and i talk about a little later). i feel like a lot of people want the witcher books but only if they were without bonhart, without stygga, without rivia. and that’s an opinion people can have but i feel some of the utter suffering was put there for a reason... but it did get excessive.

especially the r*pe scenes. in my opinion, r*pe scenes are completely unnecessary... the only scene i think was "passable” was when yennefer stabbed bonhart with a fork, because i really was wanting bonhart to just get stabbed and choke. but i think this scene is also just plain gross still because of how much sapkowski tends to ... describe yennefer as beautiful and like this woman of pure beauty and sexiness despite her cold exterior, and i can’t help but feel it was just indulgent of sapkowski wanting to write yennefer in some kind of “sexual” situation (in quotes, b/c r*pe is not sex). it was pretty useless as a scene because we already know that bonhart is evil and that yennefer is a fighting spirit, so i highly question why it needed to be put in there.

i think a lot of how bonhart treats ciri is just torture p*rn and it just goes completely overboard, like, WE GET IT, HE’S EVIL! but i have to admit that it IS a fantasy series for adults so it’s not like i can say it’s inappropriate. it is also a book series, so you have the option to skip if it’s really unbearable (like it was for me. i basically skimmed all of that violence because i do not need to be absorbing that). i just feel like there are a bunch of sickos out there who would not see ciri’s treatment as such a bad thing, and that’s really why i’m wary of the scenes, like i KNOW there are people out there who WANT to see a teenage girl be abused, and that turns my stomach more than the actual writing does. but sapkowski at least treated it appropriately, as the vile and horrific treatment(s) they are, and didn’t romanticize anything like some authors might.

as a character, i think bonhart is exactly how you describe him, as a contrast to geralt, and also as a contrast to ciri. ciri was using her power for evil, and bonhart serves as this exaggerated caricature of what she could become if she continues on her current path. i say “exaggerated” for a reason, i think bonhart is absolutely an extreme that ciri may not ever really be able to become, but it’s a warning of the possibilities of power and using violence as power. 

also, bonhart serves as a contrast to geralt because he is absolute sadism and lawlessness, and geralt is pacifist in nature (even though he was born into the life of violence) and creates his OWN code to abide by, even when there is no real “witcher code,” because he just feels like it. geralt gives ciri a sword but instructs her not to kill blindly with it, bonhart gives ciri a sword just so she can be forced to kill others. 

the way i see it, geralt and ciri both learned from each other, and they were both wrong about a very specific thing. geralt was wrong about being indifferent and choosing indifference (as he says in time of contempt, and then develops to forge a fiery path to go find his daughter). ciri was wrong about using violence to right wrongs and letting revenge consume her spirit (which she learns through meeting bonhart, and then refines herself to focus her revenge on the sadistic man). as i always view geralt and ciri as not only characters, but larger, more universal symbols of parent and child, i think these two things that they were wrong about really play off of each other as a contrast between old and young, or parent and child. i feel like abiding by indifference plagues the older generation because it feels like a reward for already fighting so many battles, and seeking unrestrained revenge plagues the younger generation because they have not learned yet that it will consume all and bear no fruit.

also p.s.: i wish people would talk more about the theory that bonhart was a witcher originally. i think it holds a lot of weight, because his fighting was pretty much unparalleled, and even cahir who is a really good swordsman, fell to him. it stands then that bonhart has something unique about his fighting style that only another witcher (ciri) could defeat (and cahir also fell to ciri in toc, so it suggests that bonhart and ciri fight in similar ways?). (i know some people wanted geralt to fight bonhart, but i feel like that would have been out of place, as he is ciri’s tormentor and when she killed him that was sooo satisfying. vilgefortz was definitely geralt’s fight anyways, because of how vilgefortz wanted to use ciri and geralt is sworn by being her father to protect her.) but yeah i wonder wtf bonhart’s backstory is. i get he’s supposed to kind of come out of nowhere as a super evil guy, but i feel like he trained with witchers before or something... like he was training and then escaped before he could take the mutations, because he had already learned to kill and gotten a taste for it, drawn to violence after he was introduced to it. 

[fangsmyth]

100 character development questions || no longer accepting

to save time and space imma be real and just... shove these all in one post under a read more because i got a LOT of these ( tysm!! i love talking about this piece of shit literally ask me anything any time any day of the week i’d be happy to answer )

sooo here we go!

nsfw and unsanitary mentions under the cut

@haemoneiron sent:

002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday?

ehhh he’ll call it a celebration, but lanque really doesn’t do much of anything different from what he normally does. he probably won’t even vocalize the fact that it’s his wriggling day, just look around to see if anyone’s already throwing a party that he can crash. if not, on alternia he probably just drank heavily in his room and played edm way too loudly.

here, he’ll probably just go to some bar and fuck somebody. so... what he does pretty much every day

016. What is their choice of weapon?

teeth! teeth! teeth! teeth! teeth! no fr if he had to pick an actual physical weapon it’d probably be a knife or a dagger, definitely something sharp and intimate...... like teeth. i say a lot that lanque isn’t a fighter but he can and will kill if he needs to

044. What disgusts them?

mainly just bad kinks! bad kinks being scat, vomit, piss, and inc*st/p*dophilia i know that’s everyone but what he considers genuinely revolting is just that specific. also people that don’t really bathe/clean themselves

---

@anglerfishnabe sent:

031. Are they superstitious about anything?

ehhh, nah i feel like lanque will see a string of bad luck as a sign that he should just go home for the rest of the day, but i don’t think it would reach much further than that. he’s definitely into people that are superstitious, and taking advantage of ‘signs from the universe’ and shlocky stuff like that, but i don’t think he really personally believes in all of that stuff. lanque is a lot of things, but spiritual is not one of them

034. What’s their view of lying?

he doesn’t see the problem in little white lies that won’t hurt anyone, especially if it gets him what he wants. ( see him HONESTLY trying to tell mspa reader he’s a virgin )

but if people lie about things that will have reaching consequences that will hurt other people, that’s just... really shitty. he does this very rarely if he’s especially desperate to get some sort of reaction out of someone, but generally speaking when he wants to hurt people and make them feel bad about themselves he points out truths based on what he gauges from observation.

---

@feraldeus sent:

013. Have they ever been bullied or teased?

yes! very much so! a lot! to the bitter end, actually! his entire cloister does have valid complaints like how he probably comes back drunk a lot of the time and has a tendency to stir the pot just to see what happens, but lynera honest to god just... hates him so much because of all the attention he garners from bronya she tended to shit talk him behind his back.

i’d imagine part of his reason behind finding it so important to be honest with how he tears someone in half is because of how much it secretly hurt him that lynera spread the occasional lie attempting to leave bronya thinking he’s beyond saving.

not only that, but i’d imagine when he was younger he probably got picked on a lot for crying and being so emotionally vulnerable and open which is why he’s so guarded now!

---

@haruakifusaishi sent:

012. What makes your character embarrassed?

openly and honestly expressing his feelings as shown in the above. generally any positive, warm feelings towards anyone are humiliating as all hell and not in the kinky way. he hates being caught being sappy or expressing romance in the sweet way he does behind closed doors.

with that, honestly if anyone that knows him for his sex drive and general hedonistic tendencies found out about his poetry readings or pretty much any of his written poetry he’d just die! that’d be the end for him!

068. How strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? What kinds of things trigger it?

lanque never feels responsibility for himself or the need to own up to his own actions at all, honestly. his entire kink is being sexy and irresponsible. he primarily feels a sense of responsibility for others’ actions significantly more than his own.

like if he witnesses someone being dishonest or just doing something generally shitty, he feels like it’s his responsibility to call them out since no one else has the balls to do it. if it looks like someone’s going to put themselves in danger, he’ll warn them. if he cares enough about them, he might go out of his way to physically drag them out of it.

it’s all in the moment things, his responsibility is never thought about or premeditated in any way!

073. In a novel, what plot role would your character fill? (hero, anti-hero, sidekick, villain, etc.)

ehhhh i wanna say anti-hero, but at the same time that could be me being inherently biased. i feel like it’d be significantly more interesting if he were a foil for any protagonist, i just seriously doubt he’d ever be the main character in anything as much as he would have the bravado of someone that wants to be?

---

@enradiant sent:

026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?

lying fake bitches!!!! people that try to suck up to people just to get a leg up on others!!!!!! hypocrites!!!!!!! shitheads that aren’t at least a little self-aware!!!!!!!!!!! people that ask too many questions, fuck off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?

oh god that’s a good question can i take a raincheck i dunno, just a life without any kind of fear or anger? having a perfect soulmate that’s willing to do whatever? everything is going the right way? ultimately he feels perfect happiness is impossible and unrealistic since happiness is never constant and sustainable? uuuugh tbh it’s probably something he’d never consider because he thinks it’s so dumb and not gonna happen

059. List several phrases your character is fond of uttering. Where did they pick them up?

i only use like one of these but let’s play in the space and add some lines i should definitely be using more

“ hey, baby. ” i guarantee you he got this from some movie or game i just can’t put my finger on which one. i hear it so clearly in my head every time i type it out i just hear some chick’s voice i just can’t put my finger on who it is she’s high pitched and horny i just know it’s not catherine it’s either jessie from huniepop or one of her lines in huniecam studio i’m so fucking stupid

“ will you help me feel alive? ” or something along those lines, i feel like it was from some vampire drama on the cw can you tell that i don’t know anything this is just the single sexiest line in his fucking route i’m so angry about it my pants were already off

“ it’s one thing to not want something. it’s another to be told you can’t have it. ” i cheated this one’s from how i met your mother i’m a fucking asshole but he would totally say something in this wheelhouse either to himself or to someone he’s trying to convince

“ we’re only alive once. ” a classier way of saying yolo don’t fucking @ me

“ vampires are always in some kind of trouble. i prefer to be in it with you. ” this is a weekly reminder that i really need to watch true blood

“ i’m all yours, do whatever you want to me. ” it’s jessie huniepop again please he’s just so horny

074. What is your character’s favorite game?

would it be cheesy to say the game/art of pick-up artistry? like convincing people he’s worth their time and that they really wanna forget about their troubles if only for just one night? i feel like lanque finds a lot of fun in the thrill of the chase! he's usually extremely disappointed by how rare it is for someone to actually leave him satisfied, but the last thing he wants to do is consider something a waste of time. sometimes you gotta find the fun

076. How do they express anger?

he doesn’t, or at least not in terms of any sort of emotional projection. lanque isn’t usually someone to hide if something pissed him off. he’ll wait for someone to realize, and if they don’t and/or keep doing the thing he’ll just tell them ‘hey this was really shitty, stop it.’ 

---

@plumbacks asked:

011. How would your character court the person of their dreams?

as in how he would act in the relationship? terribly. lanque is already really bad in regular relationships and flings, but when he’ll find the one he will be an absolutely deliberate fucking mess. he’ll dig up information just to use it against them, try and express every single one of their flaws (even when they’re flaws he actually kind of likes) he will do anything to get out of that relationship.

he’ll use his poetry as a last resort, intentionally trying to come across as overly possessive and clingy (i mean he already is, but i’m talking like yuri doki doki levels. an intentional exaggeration of his clingyness to attempt to scare them off) but when they just accept it and say that it’s fine, he’d probably blow up at first!

lanque would break up with them!!! all the time!!! the worst on again off again relationship ever!!! it would take a ton of patience for someone that he really adores to get settled into the more genuine, sappy romance he really wants to have. taking them out on trips to the countryside, laughing and sharing picnics with fine wine, discussing books and even trying to write ones together

but getting to that point will take ages! it’s not worth it!!!

[addictedforbooksquad]

P I C K (S)  O F  T H E  M O N T H: F E B R U A R Y

The Risk by Elle Kennedy 

Dream by Natalia Jaster

Devil’s Daughter by Lisa Kleypas

Enchantèe by Gita Trelease

Huge Deal by Lauren Layne

Scandalous Desires by Elizabeth Hoyt

The Risk by Elle Kennedy

Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports Romance

Synopsis:

A sexy standalone novel from New York Times and international bestselling author Elle Kennedy. THE RISK takes you back to the world of hot hockey players, feisty heroines, bro banter, and steamy scenes... Everyone says I’m a bad girl. They’re only partly right—I don’t let fear rule me, and I certainly don’t care what people think. But I draw the line at sleeping with the enemy. As the daughter of Briar’s head hockey coach, I’d be vilified if I hooked up with a player from a rival team. And that’s who Jake Connelly is. Harvard’s star forward is arrogant, annoying, and too attractive for his own good. But fate is cruel—I require his help to secure a much-coveted internship, and the sexy jerk isn’t making it easy for me. I need Connelly to be my fake boyfriend. For every fake date…he wants a real one. Which means this bad girl is in big trouble. Nothing good can come from sneaking around with Jake Connelly. My father would kill me, my friends will revolt, and my post-college career is on the line. But while it’s getting harder and harder to resist Jake’s oozing sex appeal and cocky grin, I refuse to fall for him. That’s the one risk I’m not willing to take.

Why we love it:

a great mix of romance, banter and funny moments

individual arcs on par with the romance development

Brenna is just THE BEST and so is Jake, to be honest

100% lived-up to the hype

kept us intrigued about secondary characters and their stories, especially Hunter and Bubble Butt xD

Trigger warnings: n/a

Dream by Natalia Jaster

Genres: Romance, Fantasy, New Adult

Synopsis:

Lyrik is a rogue with skills. In the Kingdom of Winter, he’s a swaggering potioneer who hunts for wisdom—a brew that will shake the world. It’s the only secret he craves. Except for the one boy he can’t have. Nicu is a dreamer with hopes. He’s an impish Royal who hunts for wishes—a legendary star that grants yearnings. It’s the only mystery he desires. Except for the one boy he can’t stand. It’s been three years since they clashed, never wanting to see each other again. But in a land of glittering frost, they might discover something more than wisdom or wishes. Something far more exquisite—and painful.

Why we love it:

as always, Natalia's writing is beautiful, poetic and full on imaginery

story told in alternating 1st person and 3rd person limited POVs which should be a bit tiring but somehow works perfectly

Nicu's POV is delightful to read and it's an amazing journey to see the world through his eyes

all the characters are back together and it's AMAZING

Nicu and Lyrik's story is full of angst but in the end, they just fit together

a beautiful, touching, heart-warming conclusion of the series

Trigger warnings: ableism

Devil’s Daughter by Lisa Kleypas

Genres: Romance, Historical Romance

Synopsis:

Although beautiful young widow Phoebe, Lady Clare, has never met West Ravenel, she knows one thing for certain: he's a mean, rotten bully. Back in boarding school, he made her late husband's life a misery, and she'll never forgive him for it. But when Phoebe attends a family wedding, she encounters a dashing and impossibly charming stranger who sends a fire-and-ice jolt of attraction through her. And then he introduces himself...as none other than West Ravenel. West is a man with a tarnished past. No apologies, no excuses. However, from the moment he meets Phoebe, West is consumed by irresistible desire...not to mention the bitter awareness that a woman like her is far out of his reach. What West doesn't bargain on is that Phoebe is no straitlaced aristocratic lady. She's the daughter of a strong-willed wallflower who long ago eloped with Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent—the most devilishly wicked rake in England. Before long, Phoebe sets out to seduce the man who has awakened her fiery nature and shown her unimaginable pleasure. Will their overwhelming passion be enough to overcome the obstacles of the past? Only the devil's daughter knows...

Why we love it:

Sebastian Challon, Duke of Kingston, former Lord St. Vincent, aged like a fine delicious wine and any appearance he makes in this book is a delight

all the side characters and family/friends dynamics between Ravenels, Challons and Westcliffs are so much fun!

West and Phoebe's connection is electrifying and West's scenes with Phoebe's children are THE SOFTEST

Lisa Kleypas at her best

Trigger warnings: n/a

Enchantée by Gita Trelease

Genres:  Romance, Historical Fiction

Synopsis:

Paris in 1789 is a labyrinth of twisted streets, filled with beggars, thieves, revolutionaries—and magicians... When smallpox kills her parents, Camille Durbonne must find a way to provide for her frail, naive sister while managing her volatile brother. Relying on petty magic—la magie ordinaire—Camille painstakingly transforms scraps of metal into money to buy the food and medicine they need. But when the coins won’t hold their shape and her brother disappears with the family’s savings, Camille must pursue a richer, more dangerous mark: the glittering court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. With dark magic forbidden by her mother, Camille transforms herself into the ‘Baroness de la Fontaine’ and is swept up into life at the Palace of Versailles, where aristocrats both fear and hunger for la magie. There, she gambles at cards, desperate to have enough to keep herself and her sister safe. Yet the longer she stays at court, the more difficult it becomes to reconcile her resentment of the nobles with the enchantments of Versailles. And when she returns to Paris, Camille meets a handsome young balloonist—who dares her to hope that love and liberty may both be possible. But la magie has its costs. And when Camille loses control of her secrets, the game she's playing turns deadly. Then revolution erupts, and she must choose—love or loyalty, democracy or aristocracy, freedom or magic—before Paris burns…

Why we love it:

historical fantasy set in 1700s Paris

a game of high stakes played out in the French court of Marie Antoinette

bond between two sisters fighting their way out of poverty with the use of magic

beautiful story

telling and detailed descriptions of Paris life

a great debut novel from Gita Trelease that makes us look forward to her future books

Trigger warnings: n/a

Huge Deal by Lauren Layne

Genres: Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

Even for a top-gun banker, temptation this hot is quite a gamble, in a sexy Wall Street romp from New York Times bestselling author Lauren Layne. An alpha among the wolves of Wall Street, Kennedy Dawson rose to the top of the pack by striking the right contracts at the right times. But there’s one deal that’s been giving him a run for his money—a pact to never again let his assistant, Kate, get under his skin. She may be smart, gorgeous, and sharp as a whip, but she’s definitely off-limits. Kate Henley isn’t a banker, but she knows a thing or two about risk management—specifically, about managing her attraction to her smolderingly sexy boss. She already fell once, and Kennedy showed no sign of paying a return on her investment. So when Kennedy’s brother starts pursuing her, Kate figures she has the best of both worlds. Jack is charming, rich, very attentive, and the spitting image of his older brother. It’s also making Kennedy think twice. But to win Kate’s heart, he’ll have to broker the deal of a lifetime…and prove he’s worth the risk.

Why we love it:

office romance

slow burn

A++ family dynamic

interesting platonic relationships

a good ending of the series

Trigger warnings: n/a

Scandalous Desires by Elizabeth Hoyt

Genres: Romance, Historical Romance

Synopsis:

Can a pirate learn that the only true treasure lies in a woman's heart? Widowed Silence Hollingbrook is impoverished, lovely, and kind--and nine months ago she made a horrible mistake. She went to a river pirate for help in saving her husband and in the process made a bargain that cost her her marriage. That night wounded her so terribly that she hides in the foundling home she helps run with her brother. Except now that same river pirate is back...and he's asking for her help. "Charming" Mickey O'Connor is the most ruthless river pirate in London. Devastatingly handsome and fearsomely intelligent, he clawed his way up through London's criminal underworld. Mickey has no use for tender emotions like compassion and love, and he sees people as pawns to be manipulated. And yet he's never been able to forget the naive captain's wife who came to him for help and spent one memorable night in his bed...talking. When his bastard baby girl was dumped in his lap--her mother having died--Mickey couldn't resist the Machiavellian urge to leave the baby on Silence's doorstep. The baby would be hidden from his enemies and he'd also bind Silence to him by her love for his daughter.

Why we love it:

good historical romance

pirates!!!

enemies to lovers trope

good girl/bad guy trope

A++ character development

Trigger warnings: n/a

[poisonbooknerd]

The Risk by Elle Kennedy

Published: February 18th, 2019

Publisher: Elle Kennedy Inc.

Description:

 A sexy standalone novel from New York Times and international bestselling author Elle Kennedy. THE RISK takes you back to the world of hot hockey players, feisty heroines, bro banter, and steamy scenes... Everyone says I’m a bad girl. They’re only partly right—I don’t let fear rule me, and I certainly don’t care what people think. But I draw the line at sleeping with the enemy. As the daughter of Briar’s head hockey coach, I’d be vilified if I hooked up with a player from a rival team. And that’s who Jake Connelly is. Harvard’s star forward is arrogant, annoying, and too attractive for his own good. But fate is cruel—I require his help to secure a much-coveted internship, and the sexy jerk isn’t making it easy for me. I need Connelly to be my fake boyfriend. For every fake date…he wants a real one. Which means this bad girl is in big trouble. Nothing good can come from sneaking around with Jake Connelly. My father would kill me, my friends will revolt, and my post-college career is on the line. But while it’s getting harder and harder to resist Jake’s oozing sex appeal and cocky grin, I refuse to fall for him. That’s the one risk I’m not willing to take.

Rating: 5 Stars

I received an Advance Reader’s Copy for my honest review.

Review:

I loved the Off Campus series so much and I had high expectations of the spin off Briar U. The Chase definitely reached those expectations and the risk just exceeded them.

There was nothing cliché about this story. Breena and Jake were the perfect couple, each supporting the other and not judging no matter what. Their snark and flirtatiousness was off the charts and their chemistry was unbelievable. Breena didn't have a tragic past the way everyone is probably thinking she did. But I can't say anymore because SPOILERS . The only thing I will say is that Jake had the perfect response.

But the book wasn't solely on their relationship. It also dealt with Breena's dad and her relationship with him as well as Jake's relationship with his parents. Neither of them had a tragic childhood but there was definitely something to be desired with each of their relationships. It also showed how even though one relationship might not seem to work to other people, for one reason or another, nobody knows what is actually going on there except for the people in the relationship.

I thought Elle Kennedy did this perfectly with Rupi and Hollis. Honestly, they are new favorite couple! The mentions of the original four was ever present in this book and served as a reminder of the length of time that has passed since Off Campus. Mind this happens almost congruently to the Chase, extending past it.

Elle Kennedy continues to bring these couples with passion, affection and spunk into my life. I need me my own hockey player!

[shirlleycoyle]

These Are the People Making Porn Out of Your Favorite Childhood Memories

This article appears in VICE Magazine's Stupid Issue, which is dedicated to the entertaining, goofy, and just plain dumb. It features stories celebrating ridiculous ideas, trends, and products; pieces arguing that unabashed stupidity can be a great part of life; and articles calling out the bad side of stupidity. Click HERE to subscribe to the print edition.

Missy Martinez is painted hot pink in places it doesn’t seem possible to get paint: edged up to almost the inside of her vulva, across her anus, and certainly everywhere that her scene partner Brenna Sparks has put her face so far. Right now, Martinez’s anime costume, which includes a soft mound the size of a large squash glued to the top of her head, is getting between her and Sparks’ clitoris. Her six-inch foam headpiece is slipping. But she perseveres.

Martinez is retired from porn now. She set aside her 10-year career in May 2019, one year after her debut as Vagin Buu, the pornified version of Dragon Ball Z’s Majin Buu.

“You can only do the sexy stepmom or babysitter—these contrived roles that are cookie-cutter—so much,” she said. “To not take porn so literally and seriously… Sex is supposed to be fun. If you’re not laughing while you’re having sex you’re doing it wrong.”

It looked like something someone might only do on a lost bet, but ultimately, Martinez asked for this. In fact, when Lee Roy Myers, the cofounder of the porn production studio WoodRocket, asked her to star in one of his freak-show-esque parodies, she leapt at the chance.

As a die-hard DBZ fan, she considered this a dream role, pink paint and all.

“When they were airbrushing my genitals, I was like, ‘Ohhh, no…,’” she said.

Martinez is not alone; everyone I spoke to who’s been subjected to a WoodRocket costume treatment or roped into Myers’ madness said they have that moment she described—the point of no return.

There’s a controversial theory among historians that parody porn brought about the French Revolution. Robert Darnton’s “pornographic interpretation” of the events of late 18th century France suggests that smutty literature depicting the monarchy in pornographic cartoons—as just as base and sex-crazed as the subjects they thumbed their noses at—emboldened the people to revolt.

“Sex is democratic,” the sex historian (and VICE contributor) Hallie Lieberman told me. “There’s a reason why we have the saying the emperor has no clothes: It reduces him to the same status as everyone else.”

But porn-as-parody goes back hundreds of years before the 18th century. An anonymous author in 16th century Italy published Ficheide, an erotic parody of Homer’s Illiad. Another erotic text of the Italian Renaissance, La Cazzaria, featured disembodied genitals satirizing political figures, and its relative virality (or as viral as something could be in the 1500s) sent its author, Antonio Vignali, running into exile. The 1748 novel Fanny Hill, regarded as the first example of English-prose pornography, is political parody. The Pearl, a monthly pornographic magazine published in London in the late 1800s, featured parodies and was itself a parody of a family magazine. The British authorities shut the magazine down after two years, citing obscenity laws.

In the early 20th century, small porno pamphlets called “Tijuana Bibles,” which peaked in popularity during the Great Depression, contained raunchy parodies of pop culture icons like Popeye, Superman, Lois Lane, and Wonder Woman getting into all sorts of hijinks. Fast-forward to the 90s and early 2000s, and everything in the porn world exploded with the advent of the VHS tape (and porn viewing from the comfort of one’s home), including parody films like Forrest Hump and Everybody Does Raymond.

“Class and sexuality are closely associated in our society, so things we deem respectable inherently have some kind of discretion when it comes to sex,” said Laura Helen Marks, a porn scholar and professor of English at Tulane University. “It can feel exciting and fun to watch the ‘low’ genre of pornography expose the perversions and hypocrisies of mainstream media… It feels like a momentary and satisfying leveling.”

Today, we have WoodRocket. The Vegas-based studio has made a name for itself in the last eight years in part by being pseudonymous with parody porn. If you hear about a new video featuring SpongeBob SquarePants or life-size Lego figurines fucking, you can bet it’s WoodRocket’s doing.

People have been using parody, satire, and sexuality to punch up at the systems and institutions that surround them for hundreds of years. Today, things are no different. Only now, we’re punching backward, at our own nostalgia.

In the late 90s, Myers was working in a video store. He’s worked a lot of jobs since then, from camera equipment guy to executive for a pay-per-view company. But he points back to that place and time in the video store as the earliest inspiration for his current work.

“I was in the store, and I was watching Edward Penishands, and he has these horrifying giant dildo arms, and it’s so ridiculous… It’s so gross, and weird, and funny, and I don’t know what parts were supposed to be intentionally funny or not,” Myers said of the film, directed by Paul Norman. “But it always stuck in my mind like, Oh, if I could do this, that would be amazing.”

For years, Myers worked roles he can only describe as “a job.” He’s never felt suited for the nine-to-five grind. But during programming and production gigs, he was making a lot of friends and connections in the adult industry. One of them was Scott Taylor, founder of a porn studio called New Sensations, who in 2008 was looking to take the studio in a comedic direction—and tasked Myers with making an erotic parody of the same nine-to-five grind he felt trapped in. Myers came up with The Office: An XXX Parody, the first of eight pop-culture television parodies he’d churn out for New Sensations that year.

“Fuck yeah, man, that sounds fucking ludicrous”

Things snowballed from there. By 2012, Myers had a front-row seat to the adult industry’s seismic shift from VHS tapes to DVDs and then to something else entirely. The internet was changing everything, and suddenly fewer and fewer people were willing to shell out money for smut. They could get it for free, on any number of tube sites filled with stolen clips and full films.

Instead of fighting against this unstoppable sea change, Myers and his industry partners started thinking of new ways to ride the wave of free internet content while still making enough profit to keep paying for cast, crew, and the lights. After years of hustling out dozens of porn parodies for other studios, Myers founded WoodRocket in 2012, with the goal of bringing comedic, silly porno to the mainstream—for free.

Myers is Canadian, and defines his directing style as “scary public access television,” with shows like The Hilarious House of Frightenstein influencing his low-budget, single-room sets and makeup that looks like it’s been applied by an overly enthusiastic high school theater student. WoodRocket launched its first film, SpongeKnob SquareNuts, in January 2013, with a press release complete with a “safe for work” trailer and a link to the full, X-rated film on WoodRocket.com.

From top to bottom: Aladdick, Dragon Boob Z, Mr. Rimjob's Neighborwood, The Loin King, Red Dead Erection.

This included a theme song that would toe the line of parody homage without crossing into copyright infringement. For that task, and most WoodRocket musical scores and lyrics, Myers has entrusted the Brooklyn-based sound designer David DeCeglie.

When Myers approached him to write the parody version of the iconic SpongeBob theme song, DeCiglie still remembers his response: “Fuck yeah, man, that sounds fucking ludicrous.”

And it was. Within an hour of the film’s release, the newly launched WoodRocket website crashed under the server load of people clicking to watch it.

The runaway success of the studio’s first original parody was doubly shocking, because Squarenuts was the “most fucked-up thing to date, at the time,” that Myers and his crew had made. The construction of the giant square costume was the work of Tom Devlin, who’s been involved with WoodRocket since the beginning. The directive from Myers, Devlin told me, was to make it look kind of like Pizza the Hutt from Spaceballs. In other words, like an actor is trapped inside a repulsive homemade costume that swallowed him whole. The result was a poly-foam fabrication glued onto a box.

“It was just… creepy.” Devlin said. “It was really hard for him to move around, and really hard for him to perform. But it just adds to the weirdness and uncomfortability of the parody.”

“He looked like a monster,” Myers said, of SpongeKnob. “And, you know, it was funny—or at least, we found it funny—and people either loved it or hated it. But they watched it.”

Devlin and Myers share a similar ethos: Don’t think too much about how the performers will perform. Just make the costumes and see what they do in them.

“Sometimes it’s not about whether or not the actors can be comfortable. It’s about what is the silliest thing we can put out there,” Devlin said. And at this point in the studio’s reputation, a performer signing up for a WoodRocket shoot knows what they’re getting into.

Rizzo Ford’s role as “Dikachu” in Strokémon XXX is unforgettable. She looks like one of Dr. Seuss’ cartoon mice if it ran into traffic. Her head hangs a little. She hunches forward. The mass of foam latex and thick yellow and black paint molded to her head and nose is forcing her to breathe through her mouth and keep her eyes partially shut.

“Dikachu! Dikachu, Dikachu,” she squawks. She and “Fisty,” whose pubic hair is shaved and dyed into a neon orange landing strip to match her anime-orange hair, are together going down on “Gash,” played by Tyler Nixon. As I watch the video online, I’m legitimately concerned about her ability to come up for air.

“I feel like comedy and porn should go hand in hand,” Ford told me. “Sex is silly. We make silly noises with our mouths and bodies. I think that by having comedic porn it normalizes things that might make us embarrassed if they were to happen with a new sexual partner.”

Ford not only survived this shoot, but would do it again “in a heartbeat” even after taking multiple showers and soaking in a tub to get all that makeup off.

“He’s not going to stop being Super Mario because his flying raccoon dick is out"

There’s really no preparing oneself for the process of a WoodRocket costume and makeup session.

Just ask Will Tile, who answered a casting call to be a WoodRocket extra in 2018, for Red Dead Erection. Just a few months prior, he was a virgin in the adult industry, looking for a new way to make a living. He’s since played a cop in Dick Hard (the Die Hard parody) and a lip-syncing genie in Aladdick, released May 2019.

When he got to the set of Aladdick, Myers told him to head to makeup. “I’m thinking they’re just gonna like, spruce me up,” he recalled. Instead, he spent half an hour getting spray-painted bright blue from the waist up.

Tile thought he could get into porn and be “one of those big scary black male performers,” nondescript beyond a stereotypical male performer, virtually anonymous at his level. But after Aladdick, things changed. “That’s when everything went to hell. That’s when everything went straight to shit,” he said.

Now he can’t walk onto most sets without someone pointing out that he was the genie. Or a cop. Or Simba. Or a reptilian creature from Ten-Inch Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Tile’s mom has even seen him painted blue and half-naked in a porno.

Tile is an ex-Marine, a former wildland firefighter, and an EMT-in-training, so his family is accustomed to worrying about him. Now they can rest easy knowing he’s perfectly healthy and happy, playing a cop with a glued-on mustache or a raunchy blue genie.

“For two years they had to worry about me coming home in a box, if I came home at all. And then when I took the wildland job, it was like, ‘Is he gonna get burnt up, or fall off a cliff and die?’” he said. “Now they’re like, ‘Oh, porn? Yeah, that’s fine.’”

Tommy Pistol’s erect penis juts out from a green spandex bodysuit. He’s moaning from inside a fully enclosed alien mask, while April O’Neil and Lauren Phillips—two glittery trespassers who look like they’ve wandered out of a Burning Man camp onto Area 51—caress each other and his body, laid flat on a surgical table. He waggles the long, floppy fingertips of his bodysuit in pleasure.

Pistol’s been friends with Myers since 2010, when they met during production of a Sex and the City parody for New Sensations. He’s played a variety of roles for the company since then, and somehow keeps ending up playing characters that involve poking his boner through the most unsexy full-body costumes.

Having convincingly good sex for the camera is a feat of athleticism even on a normal set. Having sex while in character as a childhood memory is a whole other thing.

“If you came to see Super Mario fucking the princess then you’re going to see Super Mario fucking the princess,” Pistol said. “He’s not going to stop being Super Mario because his flying raccoon dick is out.”

Lance Hart, who played “Mr. Rogers” in the studio’s most recent film, Mr. Rimjob’s Neighborwood, said that even this mindfuck of a role was easier than wearing a heavy BDSM mask or leather apron, as he’s had to do in other movies.

“It’s definitely a little weird when something felt really good and I needed to moan but also pretend to be Mister Rogers, but I’m kind of into it,” Hart said.

Adding to the ego-death exercise of wearing a glued-on mustache and painting one’s butthole neon, WoodRocket’s studio is in Las Vegas, where to film, they have to cut off the noisy air conditioning. Full body paint, elaborate costumes, and hours of rigorous sex when it’s over a hundred degrees has made for some interesting moments.

“With this job, it can’t just all be buttholes and elbows. You can actually get to do the good stuff"

“I’m pumping away, and I can feel myself about to pass out,” Tile said, recalling his role as Simba in The Loin King, where he and Kira Noir wore thick, fuzzy lion hats and gloves during their sex scene. “I’m like, I’m about to pass out on set. This is how I go out.” He didn’t, and made it through to the cut, and said he would still do it all again.

Holly Myers recently started stepping in to direct films for WoodRocket. With Holly behind the camera, the movies are no less hilarious, and she still takes a lot of care to make performers comfortable and safe.

“Generally, I try to keep the mood on set light and positive,” she said. “We are already asking them to put themselves in front of a camera to have sex—already a brave step—then going beyond and asking them to do it in a potentially uncomfortable costume, while staying in character.”

During Martinez’s headpiece-impaired performance of Vajin Buu, they stopped and reshot new takes at least five times when the paint and glue started slipping. She said, “It’s like, ‘Cut, OK, same intensity, aaand go!’ when I was in the middle of an orgasm or leading right up to it.” It’s challenging, not just physically, but mentally.

“We always know it’s not going to be easy, no matter how much you adjust things,” Myers said. [Porn] is not like real sex, it’s opening up and making sure the camera and lights get in there… I’ve heard it described as fucking around a corner.”

But it might also just take a special kind of performer to work through the giggles, and the discomfort, and the sweaty paint. Pistol said he feels like sex in these costumes comes “weirdly natural” to him. “It honestly keeps me sane after doing this for so many years,” he said. “Laughter is my therapy… I understand jerking off at home while laughing out loud isn’t for everyone. But comedy porn breaks down barriers.”

At this point (or likely, a lot earlier), you may be wondering who gets off to this stuff? Is there an audience craving a sexualized Mister Rogers? Are there people out there who are horny for a grotesque Pikachu, or a nightmare simulacrum of SpongeBob with a hard-on?

That question is flawed from the start. First of all, yes, undoubtedly, there are people who seek out WoodRocket because they’ve always had a Lego fetish or the like. But humor has always been a part of porn. Sex is fun and, often, funny.

“Humor and porn share a lot of similarities,” Lieberman, the porn historian, said. “The end goal of both is an involuntary physical reaction: an orgasm or a laugh. We watch comedy and we watch porn to experience pleasure.”

To laugh along with the people in porn can be a subversive act, said Marks, the porn scholar. “Within the context of a sex-negative, censorious society, pornographic material is politically antagonistic—unavoidably so and regardless of intention—and this frequently means poking fun.”

For the performers themselves, doing a parody shoot can be a release they don’t get in other studios. For Tile, having WoodRocket as his first studio experience showed him a different way of performing—one that most people don’t associate with porn. “With this job, it can’t just all be buttholes and elbows,” he said. “You can actually get to do the good stuff.”

I’ve seen a lot of the buttholes and elbows and painted labia that WoodRocket has put into the world, but there’s still one work of theirs that I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch. Mr. Rimjob’s Neighborwood opens with Hart lip-syncing, “Welcome to my neighborhood, where we’ll ruin your childhood,” and I fear it would be true. I loved Mister Rogers as a kid.

There was a moment during production of Mr. Rimjob, Myers told me, when he did hesitate. The man has likely ruined hundreds of childhoods with his releases, and this was the one that gave him pause.

“As we started getting closer to making it, it was the first one where I started to feel a little regret,” he said. “I grew up watching Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. I was a PBS kid in the late 70s and early 80s… but, I thought I could do it in a way that it’s not really him, it’s spoofing the genre as much as it’s spoofing the ‘land of make believe…’ I don't think it’s insensitive to him being who he was as a person.”

It turns out there are only three things Myers said he’ll never touch in future WoodRocket productions: anything that’s intentionally punching down, anything where the characters doing the fucking aren’t clearly over 18, and any more Donald Trump stuff. He’s “so tired of that,” he said. Everything else is fair game.

“We have to find a balance,” Myers said. “Actually, I don’t know if there is a balance. But we had to find a balance between porn and whatever that was. And so we, in the process, created our own balance, and it’s something different to everybody.

“So some people will love it. Some people hate it. Some will be disgusted by it. But I think everybody can agree that we’ve ruined everyone’s childhood.”

These Are the People Making Porn Out of Your Favorite Childhood Memories syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[lesbrarians]

Junkrat/Roadhog: Voyages Ch 2

I’m so happy you guys enjoyed the first chapter ahhh I hope you continue to like it! I’m gonna go to a Monday-Friday update schedule starting next week :> 

Title: Voyages

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary:  After a rocky start and some ups and downs, Junkrat and Roadhog are officially partners, even if things haven’t progressed quite as far as Junkrat would like. With his treasure at the heart of their grandiose plans, they take their adventures overseas and leave their mark on the world, for better or worse. (Mostly for worse. They’re criminals.) Sequel to “Origins.”

---

He woke up to find that he had drooled all over Roadhog’s arm when he was conked out. “Whoops. Sorry, mate, got a lil’ somethin’ on ya there.” He rubbed off the saliva with his forearm and wiped it on his shorts before climbing to his feet. The alcohol’s effects had worn off in his sleep, leaving him dry-mouthed and slightly achy in the temples, but it was nothing that a few gulps of water couldn’t fix -- one of the packages Ava had mailed alongside them was a slab of flavored mineral water, an obscure Australian brand that she could provide justification for sending overseas. He propped his hands on his hips and scanned the cargo hold for his next conquest.

“Gross,” Roadhog told him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Junkrat giggled. “Not like yer not used to havin’ my spit all over ya!”

“True,” Roadhog agreed with a huff of amusement. Junkrat was not the neatest of kissers.

“Y’know, there’s somethin’ we can do to pass the time...” Junkrat sniggered as he scrambled on top of a large box. He estimated that sitting on top of it would put him roughly at Roadhog’s eye level. He made grabby motions with his hands in an attempt to lure Roadhog over to him. “Mind takin’ off that mask of yers?”

Roadhog gave a grunt of assent as he stood up. He reached for the straps of his mask, and Junkrat felt his heart quicken. He technically knew what lay beneath, having felt the swathe of twisted, scarred flesh that marked Roadhog as a survivor of a nasty fire, but Roadhog still refused to show him his face entirely. Unfortunately, this time was no different, and he pushed the mask up just far enough to reveal his jaw and mouth.

“Still deprivin’ me of yer beauty, eh?” Junkrat said, unable to stop himself from bemoaning Roadhog’s reticent nature.

Roadhog’s wide grin was lopsided: a crooked grin with crooked teeth, and Junkrat loved it. He wondered how many times Roadhog had smiled without his noticing, shielded by the barrier of his gas mask. “Yeah,”  he said. “This is all you get.”

“Good enough for me! All I really need, roight?” Junkrat wrapped his arms around Roadhog’s neck and kissed him with all the fervour of a man starved of intimacy. He was enthusiastic, if sloppy, but his poor technique made for more opportunities to practise.

Roadhog took control of the kiss in the hopes of teaching Junkrat a better technique than all tongue, no temperance. A little restraint went a long way. Junkrat didn't mind relinquishing control, not when it meant Roadhog gripping his face in those two hands and leaving him -- literally -- breathless.

Junkrat gasped into Roadhog’s mouth, grinding up against him. He probably should have been embarrassed that he was already hard after a few minutes of making out with no below the belt touching to speak of, but Roadhog tended to have that effect on him. He didn’t care how he looked, shamelessly rutting against Roadhog’s belly, not when it felt so fucking good.

The last time things had gotten this hot and heavy between them, they'd been interrupted by the sound of approaching police sirens. The time before that, it was an ambush by a scraggly group of Junkers. Before that, their dinner had started burning. There was always a crisis to be dealt with, and Junkrat had nearly given up hope on ever getting laid. Now, however, there were no distractions, nothing to keep them from doing as they pleased. It was positively exhilarating. Junkrat pushed Roadhog away from him, putting just enough distance between them to give him room to hop off the box he was sitting on. He fell onto his knees with a breathless giggle and tugged at Roadhog’s belt, attempting to figure out how to unfasten the custom plate that served as a buckle. It took a great deal of concentration. His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to decipher the mechanism, which didn’t catch in quite the same way as his own belt buckle.

“Whole lotta work just to suck yer dick, but -- heh -- worth it!”

His focus was broken when Roadhog pulled on his hair, tugging his head up to look at him. It was too urgent to be sexy, and the odd look that twisted the corner of Roadhog’s mouth only confirmed that.

“No,” Roadhog said.

Junkrat dropped his hands and frowned up at Roadhog. “Whaddya mean, no? Thought y’were into this.”

“I am.”

This made less than zero sense to Junkrat. “Then why not?” he demanded to know.

“Because.”

It was as valid a reason as any, but it wasn’t one Junkrat was satisfied with.

He was still on his knees. “Fine,” he said shortly, climbing to his feet. At least the pressing situation in his pants had lessened in all the confusion. He jerked his head in the opposite direction, nodding at the far end of the cargo hold. “Just gonna dip for a bit, then.”

He slinked off to be alone and process, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He picked his way through the cargo hold to put as much distance as possible between him and Roadhog, and he took out his frustrations on the various packages that stood in his way.

Maybe looking through other people’s mail would help him forget the buzz of indignation and sudden sense of inferiority that clouded his head.

He recoiled in disgust at the first container he broke into. It took him a few moments to realise that he wasn’t looking at an actual omnic, but a detailed, life-sized photograph of one, a diagram depicting the contents of the package being shipped. He inspected it further.  

“This a fuckin’ sex bot?” he muttered to himself, simultaneously incredulous and revolted. It wasn’t an omnic, but a “personal pleasure device,” or so the label said. He hadn’t realised that there was a market for functional, non-sentient robots built for the pure purpose of masturbation -- but apparently there was a global demand for them, if some corporation was shipping one from Sydney to Tokyo. It might not have had any consciousness or free will, but it could walk, talk, and fuck. Too close to an omnic for his taste.

It wasn’t like Junkrat didn’t have any perverse ideas of his own, and he had certainly entertained the thought of building a mechanical device to help him get off, but you couldn’t pay him enough to fuck anything that even remotely resembled an omnic.

Rationally, he knew that the robot before him couldn’t think and possessed no artificial intelligence, but still, its visual similarity to the bots who could do so gave him the heebie jeebies. He tore open the box. “Disgusting,” he said aloud, critically eyeing the robot, which had clearly been built as a facsimile of a human woman with ridiculously exaggerated proportions. He raided the husk of the sex bot for any parts that he could repurpose for his own inventions, then vowed to use the box to take care of any personal business, because really, fuck whoever had ordered this.

He stuffed his pockets and the bag slung around his bony hips with various mechanical odds and ends.

Moving on, he thought to himself. Looking at the fake omnic for too long was gonna make him sick. Robots -- proper, non-feeling mechanical devices -- were only good when they didn’t represent the humanoid second-class citizens that he so detested.

He tried another box.

It took him a few moments to figure out what he was looking at. The case was filled with soft, white toys, each with a cartoonish happy face, pink blush markings, and green tendrils.

Junkrat picked up one of the plushies and studied it. He didn’t get it -- was it an onion? A peach? A lump of garlic? Why did it have tentacles? -- but it looked like something Roadhog would like. It was pretty cute.

He stuffed the plush toy behind his back. “Roadhog!” he called out as he started making his way back to their corner of the ship. He had cooled off significantly. So Roadhog wasn’t in the mood tonight. He guessed it made sense, they were in the middle of pulling off a complex operation. He’d try jumping his bones later, once they were settled in Japan.

Roadhog gave a questioning grunt and tilted his head at him. Junkrat climbed over the last box standing in his way. “Gotcha something.” He held out the plushie. “Happy birthday!”

“It’s not my birthday,” Roadhog said, but he accepted the gift. He held it in both of his hands, carefully examining it.

“S’called a pachimari,” Junkrat informed him, having read the label. “Thought maybe y’d like it. Cute stuff’s kinda yer thing, ain’t it?”

Roadhog squeezed it. It squeaked, causing them both to emit small noises of surprise. Junkrat hadn’t anticipated that bonus. Roadhog looked at him. “I love it,” he stated. The tacit approval made Junkrat glow with pride, and a grin threatened to split his face in two.

“I knew ya would! It’s all cuddly, roight? Like you!” He sat down and took the pachimari from Roadhog. He stuffed it behind his head as a makeshift pillow and leaned against their motorcycle crate. Roadhog promptly tugged it away from him, causing the back of his head to crack against the box.

“Ow!” Junkrat rubbed the base of his skull. “Watch it!” Roadhog didn’t apologise, responding only with a vaguely threatening hum. Junkrat shifted to use his his belly as a pillow instead.

“What’re we gonna do first when we land?” he asked Roadhog. Even with a direct path to Japan and the miracles of modern technology, it would still take them the better part of five days until they arrived in Japan. They might as well use the time to strategise.

“Get more of these,” Roadhog replied, tenderly cradling the pachimari in his hands.

Junkrat cackled. “Good a plan as any!”

 ---

 As they neared the last leg of their journey, Junkrat was going stir-crazy. He was used to being cooped up for a week or so; he did it every time he and Roadhog needed to lay low after a particularly successful string of crimes. The key difference between then and now, however, was their choice of shelter: a deserted house in the desolate Outback, long abandoned by Australians who had the sense to get away from the irradiated region, was very different from the storage hold of a cargo ship. There, they could venture outside briefly to get some fresh air and sunshine, or at least crack open a window. Here, not so much.

“I don’t know if I can make it, ‘Hog,” Junkrat moaned. At present, he was draped over a crate, arm flung over his eyes.

“You’re being overdramatic again.”

Junkrat feigned indignance. “What a load of crap, I have never been overdramatic a single day in my life!”

"You are always overdramatic," Roadhog pointed out.

Junkrat popped his head up to glare at him, then sat up straight. "Am not!"

They were too busy bickering to notice when the boat stopped rocking beneath them.

"Hang on," Junkrat said, shoving his hand into the snout of Roadhog's mask in an attempt to silence him. "D'you feel anything, or am I just mental?"

"You’re mental. What am I supposed to be feeling?"

Junkrat pointed to the floor of the ship, and it clicked.

"Get back in the box," Roadhog said, shoving Junkrat off of the crate he had reappropriated as a lounge chair and in the direction of their own crate. "We must be here."

"S'your fault we didn't notice," Junkrat said, being antagonistic purely for the sake of being antagonistic. Roadhog pushed him in response, and he giggled maniacally.

Roadhog hefted the lid of the crate, prepared to seal them both back in once they'd secured their hiding spot, while Junkrat climbed inside.

The door to the cargo hold, a scant few metres from them, slid open, and a slim man trundled in, loading cart in hand.

All involved parties froze: Junkrat mid-climb, one foot still in the air, Roadhog with the massive lid still in his arms, the dock worker still holding onto his trolley.

Junkrat was the first to break the silence. "G'day!" he said with a jaunty salute. Roadhog dropped the lid with a resounding thump. The dock worker responded, clearly nervous, but neither of them could understand Japanese.

Junkrat hopped down from the box and approached the man, who looked at him warily. “Mate, I got not the faintest idea of what yer sayin’, and even if I did, I don’t care. Roadhog?”  He held out his hand, fully expecting his bodyguard to understand what he was requesting. Roadhog tossed him his frag launcher. Junkrat promptly fumbled the catch and dropped it to the floor, although he made a quick recovery and pressed it to the man’s temple. “Anyway. So, howsabout you forget what ya saw, and we take our leave?” The man likely understood his words just about as much as they had understood his, but violence was the universal language. He nodded frantically, a droplet of sweat beading on his forehead.

"Righto!" Junkrat said brightly, lowering the grenade launcher and glancing back at his partner in crime.

Roadhog had used his time constructively and torn down the side of the crate, freeing the motorcycle and creating a ramp. Junkrat booked it back to the bike and leapt into the sidecar while Roadhog revved up the engine.

"Outta our way, ya dingus!" Junkrat shouted, and the cargo worker dove to the side, abandoning his trolley, which Roadhog promptly smashed into.

They peeled down the gangway and through a crowd of mail couriers, smashing through the first fence they saw.

"Okay, so we went to all that trouble, what with the rebreathers and all, and yer telling me that we coulda got away with just bargin' on-- camera!" They both smiled for the security feed, Roadhog taking his hand off the handlebars long enough to flash a thumbs-up, while Junkrat struck a dramatic pose. "--board? Forget it mate, I'm not even tryin' anymore. Let's just bludgeon our way through everything, eh? Who's gonna stop the two scary Australian Junkers? Caution's fer chumps."

Roadhog laughed, that deep, low chuckle that always reverberated in Junkrat's bones. "Fair enough," he said. They tore off down the streets of Tokyo, in search of a truck from which they could illegally siphon petrol for their motorcycle.

 ---

  The streets of Tokyo, Japan were vastly different from the wasteland of the Australian Outback. For one, Junkrat had never seen so many people in one place in his life. Even their trip to Sydney hadn't been so saturated with pedestrians. At first, it was overwhelming, all the hustle and bustle turning him skittish. However, once he realised that they could get away with committing crimes a lot easier when they were in crowds, any misgivings he had vanished.

Junkrat had every intention of scouting out the city's omnic population, but first, he felt they deserved a vacation. What better way to unwind than at an arcade?

He was glued to the soft drink machine. “Look, 'Hog, they got all kinds of fizzy drinks here!” He hadn't heard of any of the brands before. Most of them weren’t in English, but he could make out Kiki Cola, Murloc, and Nano. Despite having no idea what they tasted like, they were making him salivate. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Which, oh which, should I try first?” When he didn't get a response, he turned around. “Roadhog?”

Roadhog had abandoned him to check out the machines that dispensed an entirely different kind of loot: stuffed toys. There was one claw machine in particular that Roadhog was fixated on, the one affixed with a sign that read “UFO.” Junkrat recognised the pachimari that they had strapped to the back of their chopper.

Roadhog’s snout was pressed against the window of the machine, much as Junkrat’s tongue had been against the glass of the vending machine. Besides him was a small boy with a tuft of blue hair and a pachimari tank top, quietly sucking on a lollipop as he stared up at Roadhog.

Junkrat shoved the child aside with a shout of, “Move, he’s mine!” and squeezed next to Roadhog. “Looks like you found where baby pachimari come from.”

Roadhog gave a grunt of assent, and they were silent for a split second. Junkrat eyed the crane inside the machine, wishing that he had some yen so he could test it and study the machinery.

Roadhog spoke first. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Depends what yer thinkin’, mate. I'm thinkin’ we gotta liberate some of these city wankers of their wallets. I wanna see this beaut in action.”

“Not what I was thinking.”

“Or,” Junkrat continued, raising an imperious finger in the air to silence him, “we liberate these poor souls from their prison. We'd be doin’ ‘em a favour, really, givin’ them all homes. You, me, and a million pachimari. One big happy family!”

He could sense Roadhog's smile through his gas mask. “Yeah! That's more like it.”

Junkrat flashed a grin back at him. “You take care of them, then. I'm gettin’ us some bevvies to celebrate!” He unholstered his frag launcher and bounded off towards the vending machine.

He wasn’t going to discriminate between flavors now -- although he was making it his personal mission to sample them all during their time in Japan -- he simply launched a grenade at the nearest dispenser, causing the thick pane of glass to splinter, cracks spreading out from the point of impact. He finished the job by kicking it in, sending shards and cans flying, and grabbed all the soft drinks he could carry. There was a similar crash behind him as Roadhog punched the claw machine, his spiked brass knuckles absorbing the shock and smashing the window entirely.

Junkrat had overestimated how much he could hold at one time and promptly started spilling cans when he took off running. Roadhog lumbered after him, hot on his heels, and he was doing a much better job at holding onto his purchases than Junkrat was.

Junkrat gave up trying to carry them all and settled for guzzling what he could, letting the other cans fall as they may. “Oh, that’s good,” he said out loud, studying the can to figure out what brand it was -- Kiki Cola -- before tossing the empty can behind him.  

They burst out of the arcade into the afternoon sunlight, the small child wailing in the distance at the loss of all the plush toys.

Miraculously, they made it back to their new home base without too much trouble. Most people leapt out of their path, alarmed and intimidated by the two Junkers barrelling down the street.

“Gotta get me a cart or somethin’, next time we do that,” Junkrat said, pushing aside the tarp that served as their front door. “Or make use of them arms of yers! How the heck did ya manage to carry all those?” He gestured at the heap of pachimari still in Roadhog’s arms.

Roadhog shrugged. He carefully set the pile down on the ground. “Practice.”

Junkrat eyed him. “Betcha y’could carry me.”

“Bet I could,” Roadhog agreed. He sat down on the throne of pachimari with a whumph and the sound of a million squeakers going off at once. Junkrat giggled gleefully and joined him, squirming under Roadhog’s arm. He picked up one of the plush toys and squeaked it, over and over, until Roadhog finally ripped it out of his hands. Deprived of entertainment, Junkrat took stock of their new, albeit temporary, home.

It had been impossible for them to find an abandoned place to squat, given their determination to stay within the more urban areas of Tokyo, where concentrations of omnics were highest. An empty apartment did not stay empty for long. They had been ruminating on alternative options -- Roadhog had suggested staying under the bridge, but Junkrat had been adamant that he was “not gonna share with a buncha derros” -- when they stumbled across a portion of the city that had been blocked off with fences and tarps, surrounding several half-built skyscrapers.

They couldn’t read the sign that marked the company that was behind the construction zone, but by the looks of the logo and some general deductions, they had concluded that it was meant to be the site of future residences for omnics.

As it turned out, Japan had a relatively small population of omnics. The country was an island with limited space, and as such, there was a nationwide push to relocate omnics to the mainland. Robots were one thing; omnics were actual citizens who needed resources and living space. With new regulations in place and political, pro-omnic protests, Tokyo was redeveloping a portion of the city to house omnics with no place to go, providing them with dwellings that suited their non-human needs.

It was the stupidest thing Junkrat had ever heard of, and he had had quite a lot of stupid ideas in his lifetime.

The fence had been plastered with signs, mostly likely warning individuals not to trespass and espousing the dangers of entering a construction site with no safety gear. They were all in Japanese, however, and the only sign Junkrat had recognised was a bright red stop sign.

Stop signs didn’t stand in his way, nor Roadhog's: he always had preferred to think of them as “suggestions” rather than “rules,” and Roadhog's command of the road entailed blowing through red lights more often than not. With a brash laugh, Junkrat had immediately instructed Roadhog to toss him over the fence.

They'd found a fairly solid structure with tarp tacked between its pillars to protect the half- finished interior from the elements. It was a risky choice of dwelling, but given the dearth of heavy machinery, they had concluded that construction had been halted due to some bureaucratic nonsense or other.

“Maybe the good people of Tokyo are seein’ sense!” Junkrat had speculated. “Those heaps of junk don't deserve fancy flats.”

It was a good decision, Junkrat thought as he burrowed deeper into the pile of pachimari. Anywhere was home as long as he had Roadhog by his side, but having the basic human comforts of a relatively enclosed, private space made it all the better.

[fratdadbrad]

They say Jesus was called Emmanuel before he was ever born.

They say before he was knit inside his mothers womb the universe felt the shift in the world and started to sing his praise.

They say before we called him Jesus, a translation of Yeshua which means Joshua, that language decided to evolve at that moment to create a new word.

And as language evolved the nations began crying out Emmanuel.

I imagine they passed this word on as easily as we pass words like hello and goodbye.

The same mouth that speaks death, speaks life.

All of creation began cussing and using god’s name in vain and finally he came.

However he was a gentleman. So before he was born a bastard orphan, before all of humanity started lying on who he truly was he sent an angel to speak life over Mary’s situation.

See I’m so glad Jesus wasn’t born in our generation because we are so damn rude. We would have called that poor girl a whore, or a bitch. Jospeh would have beat her and left her kid on the street and Jesus could have grown up like Annie yet with the aggression of a scorned black boy. 💀

Thank God he was born in a time when the people were still simple. When language had not yet evolved to speak death over its children.

Thank God he sent his perfect son that when he hung on the cross looking down on all those crusty ass niggas who claimed to love him that he would feel empathy.

That he would see that it was the structure of religion that broke his body, not the people’s lack of love.

We are imperfectly perfect children of god. We are all worthy of unconditional love irregardless of if you’ve decided to love Jesus enough to give him your soul. It’s precious and I’m so glad our generation finally loves ourselves. Can we channel that love not into capturing nations souls?

Can we be kind? Can we patient? Can we be gentle?

If so...

When did we plan on starting? Cause I’m sick of being treated like I’m a depressed ass 15 year old. I’m 21. I’m living my best life. I’m a weird little shit sometimes. My heart is well intentioned and I hold myself to the Jesus friend standard:

That I would take time to love myself first, so that when I ask “What can I do to help?” I actually mean it. So that when I get up to do what you asked of me I can do it with a respectful attitude, not a self righteous one. Otherwise I’m not going to offer my help 🤷🏽‍♀️

Now if you need me to do it for you, than I will. However I do not desire to use my energy to do that and pretend it’s my pleasure. That’s an opressed mindset.

The beautiful thing about the South is, most people are saved and actually think they can be just like Jesus. So when a person hits you with that southern sweetness, respond back with the same. Because if they didn’t mean it with a good heart they will get real quiet. And then hold your peace. Spill the tea to me if you’d like, just don’t start roasting niggas in your head cause it will show on your face and get you into a situation that will upset you my guy.

It’s 2019, we don’t have to agree. Just stop killing each other’s spirits. Block that nigga who’s blowing you up like it’s still 2018. Unfollow that page that makes you wonder how you can make your body dsyphoria disappear with a couple skipped meals. Stop playing yourself, our generation has been silently opressed with mental sickness for about 10 years now. Have mercy on those of us in our 20s. We are just trying to live our lives to the fullest because we spent about a decade watching the world kill kids for no reason and y’all taught us how to prepare for it. I’m traumatized. I always wonder when the sad kid who wants to excerize his 2nd Ammendment right and needs an outlet to release the deepest sob of the soul. His parents left him to parent himself at 15 years old and he’s scared he is going to burn in Hell. Don’t save him, just have mercy on him.

So do what you need to do, and then just hold your peace. Wait a beat before y’all decide to get back together. Y’all just fought like cats and dogs. Did he gently correct you when you hurt his feelings or did he yell at you? Did he respect your boundaries or did he defend himself like you have no reason to doubt him? Did you feel so attacked right then? Did he act like you so attacked him? Cause if so and he’s trying to be really physical he’s probably trying to fill a hole in his soul from his parents lack of love. You cannot fix that. Even if he means well and only wants to make love. Love just means sex and I don’t want to be stuck with your kids if you have a damn breakdown and decide to run away. So you know what I’ll do?

Run.

And never look back.

Oh wait it’s 2019, just hit that nigga with a

If I’m only speaking truth to you and you’re defending yourself you are either not listening to me, or you doubt your own understanding of that truth. Either way I don’t have time to go back and forth with you. Thank you for the wisdom you brought me. I’ve learned my lesson, next.

Oh what’s this a check!? Oh you want to know one day you might be able to hit? Cause you appreciate my mind and my body and my soul? Thank you however that is not my preferred order. Oh you want to know what it is?

Soul

Mind.

Decide if you’re ready to pay for the subscription. Because appreation does not mean you’ve passed my class. I’m still testing your spirit.

Oh, you want just make love to me to show me you mean it?

Hmmm nope. Because you said you love me. And my Jesus gives love freely. Never in the Bible did it say I have to grant you access to my body the way you granted yourself access to America.

Your ass is lucky all the brown people don’t revolt. It’d be Les Miserables all over again.

Americans are MISERABLE. We just hide it.

Welcome to the America. We have all the promised toys, we are the future. However these niggas are still acting all the way up. 😩💀☕️🐝

For the record, to me a nigga is someone oppressed by a slave mentality. So say it if you want. Just know I’m gonna know based off your tone how you meant it and I will call out your inflection.

Search your heart before you say words, because your inflection betrays you. 😘

And I have knowledge now. So all your grad level words are tantalizing and I can’t wait to hear your ted talk with slides on why consent isn’t sexy and why how I feel is disrespectful.

I’ll wait.

🐝

[deadlyarcanist]

13 reasons why.

I just finished the Netflix's show "13 Reasons Why", after spending the past two days literally doing nothing with my free time but watching it.

This show, based on a book series, caught my attention (and so many of my friends) for being one of the most realistic, hurtful, ugly portrait of what having emotional and mental issues can do to you. What people can do to you. What men can do to women.

One of my best friends told me she couldn't keep watching, because it brought up things that she buried inside herself a long time ago. Another friend told me he would feel anxious everytime he tried to watch it. Many others told me they got their mental illness smashed on their faces within every episode. And I lost count on how many tweets, reviews and facebook posts I read where girls would share their deepest traumas regarding sexual abuse and slut-shaming and how the show opened up those wounds a little bit, all over again.

As for myself... I try to not talk about my personal life, and specially about my past, on social media. Or in life, to be fair. I always divert attention to other situations, maybe social interactions, maybe other people, so I can avoid talking about me. I might even pretend to talk about myself a lot - without actually telling you anything that matters. I'll talk about my exchange program, I'll talk about my travels, my music, my make up; I might even talk about my religion or even some of my friends. But, in the end of the day, I didn't said anything about myself, really.

My point with this is, first of it all, to take some weight out of my chest. To make my mind a little lighter than it's been, to maybe get someone who is going through shit (or put someone through shit) to understand how everything can change and how much small things can affect you while growing up.

Or maybe, if you can relate to any of this, you'll feel like you're not alone.

I wanna try and discuss a few of the topics that the tv show approached, and how it affected me and might be affecting people you know or even yourself.

Today's subject will be sexism, the rape culture and the slut-shaming shit we face everyday, regardless where you live in this world.

Let's start saying that if you're a male, when it comes to the sexual part of this, you won't ever understand. Not completely. But I appreciate you're trying.

EVERY girl has been put through some kind of abuse, at some point of her life. I know I did.

I was the girl who wanted to grow up really fast. I had more boyfriends than I could count, I made out with people I don't even know the name. I was the 15 year old kid dating a 23 year old guy. Guys, actually. I lost count on how many older dudes I dated between my 15 and 17 years. That's not only pathetic, it's fucking revolting that I had male adults all over me when I literally just got out of middle school. As you can imagine, none of this turned out that well. I was a child. I was imature, I had no idea of who I truly was and I had no idea on how I should be treated. I let men, full bearded men, take advantage of me (and i'm not even talking strictly about sex here), but to influence on how I grew up.

I grew up with this fucked up sense of needing a male to be by my side or else I would be meaningless. I thought I was weak, dependent. Older males. Adult males taking advantage of a fucked up teenager. They made me believe I was their property. They made me believe I was nothing without them. That this messed up sense of protection was all I needed to be happy. And let me tell you this: some of those guys now play on some of your favorite bands and preach about respect on stage.

So, to all of the guys who walked in my life at that time: I hope you understand that what you were doing was abuse. That I was a fucking girl thinking I was a woman. Who thought it was awesome to have a 20-something boyfriend to tell my friends how cool I was. I didn't knew any better, BUT YOU DID. You were the adult and you should have walked away.

And to all the creeps in their 20s (or over) who think it's okay to flirt, interact or actually date an underage girl: I hope you understand you're a scumbag. And honestly, just to think about all that shit makes me want to throw up.

------

Still in the subject abuse, now let's talk about rape, about consent. I was lucky enough this one never happened to me, but it did happened to more than one of my closest friends, and to a extremely close family member.

And this haunts them every single day.

They were blamed for their own abuse, they were laughed at, slut-shamed. They had to hear that if they didn't drink that night, it wouldn't happened. If they wouldn't walking by themselves at night, they wouldn't have been abused. That maybe they should have dressed better if they didn't wanted male attention. This is no news to you, i'm pretty sure. I'm 100% sure you heard all of this kind of shit, if you didn't said it yourself.

I just want to tell you that this moment, those five, ten minutes where those girls were being abused, they marked them forever. They changed because of that. Some of them could never get close to a man again in their lives. Some of them have nightmares about being raped again, some of them lost the support of their families, some of them lost their loved ones. All because one guy couldn't understand the concept of NO. Because that one guy couldn't accept the fact that they didn't wanted him. Because the couldn't control himself. Or because he didn't cared. Because they, my friends and my family, weren't people to his eyes at that moment - they were a thing; a piece of meat.

You know, I never been raped and I thank God everyday for it. But I've been abused in so many other ways. I've been touched against my will, I've been forced kissed, I've been chased on the street, I've been pulled by my hair in the middle of clubs, I've been cat called, I've been stalked, I've been sent many unrequested dick pics, I've been threatened to have my private pictures leaked. I almost got thrown in a car by four guys when I was only 14, while I went to one of my school friend's house, literally 5 minutes away. I was wearing my school uniform, which was an oversized tee and boy shorts. Was I "asking for it"? Was my way to dress to provocative to those pervs? I've been called a whore, i've been called a slut, I've been called crazy, I've been called easy. The most recent one is that I post sexy pictures because I seek male attention and that "isn't that what I wanted?" when I got unrequested nudes. Oh, also that i'm a "homie hopping whore", because I liked some pictures on the instagram account that happens to be friends with a guy I went out last year.

My point here: if you're a girl, i'm pretty sure you've been through some sort of situation like that before. You might be going through it right now. That shouldn't be a routine, this shouldn't be normal.

If I didn't had the right people coming to my life, I would never understand how strong I really am, who I really am; I would never be independent and well resolved with my own terms. And more important of it all: that what people did to me, what I believed it was just fine, was completely wrong. And how that made my life as a teenager so much harder than it needed to be.

On the show, Hannah (the main character) commits suicide after being cyberbullied, slut-shamed, objectified and, ultimately, raped. But this is a tv show, right? But I'll get you wondering... How many real Hannah's are out there? How many young girls gave up their lives over unkind words, over mean comments, over being violated? How many girls had their feelings - and their bodies - so hurt that they decided to stop all that by opening their wrists, hanging out their bedroom ceilings, jumping off buildings? How many cis, trans, old, young, black, white, rich, poor girls were so emotionally and psychologically destroyed that their thought that suicide was their only option?

Think about it. Do your research.

Your words, your attitudes, showing your support to friends and people you might not even know can change their whole life. It can be the difference between another day at school or a funeral next morning. It can change the mind of a girl who thought she was nothing more than a piece of meat to actually realizes that she's worth something. That she has more to offer than her body. It can build up or completely destroy someone's self-esteem and the way they cope with daily struggles. Your words and your attitudes can stop your friend from taking advantage of that drunk girl at the party, or to get justice for a victim. It can help your "bros" to understand what's right and what's wrong.

You have no fucking clue on what's happening on someone's life, so be kind. Be patient. Be respectful. Don't cover up for sexist, predatory attitudes. Don't judge, don't blame the victims. Be there for them.

[i-just-like-commenting]

Yes, the books were adaptable, part 2: Season 4 rewrite

Ideally, season 3 would have been 15 episodes long, to let them cover the remainder of A Storm of Swords, and season 4 another 15 episodes – but budgets and contracts being what they are, I can see using the Red Wedding as a finale.

What then becomes a problem is the scarcity of plot left in the book. My solution? Work as much of book 4 into this seasons as possible, from full plotlines to introducing characters ahead of time. This season will still, though, be more focused on character interactions because there is less plot, but that will be a breather before the plot-heavy next season (wherein we will cover most of books 4 and 5). I’m going to try to integrate this with the tone/prior changes of the show as much as possible, as well as reducing characters when it works. Spoilers for books 4 and 5 (and also lots of words) are under the jump:

Our first addition is incorporating the early stages of the Iron Islands arc. In the first episode, Yara makes her way down the coast; she passes a mysterious ship headed in the other direction. Back on the Iron Islands, Balon is fuming that his “rightful heir” is off on a fool’s errand (you might need some setup references to his two lousy brothers added to season 3). He gets killed by a reappearing Jaqen, and that mysterious ship roles into Pyke. It turns out it is Euron, who declares himself king. Younger brother Victarion protests on the basis of his “godlessness” (merging bits of Aeron into him to consolidate characters) and it looks as though the islands are heading to civil war. Yara gets the news and, frustrated, abandons her quest for Theon and returns to the islands. She calls for a kingsmoot to settle the dispute, and Victarion agrees. The arc ends the season with the kingsmoot, where Euron is declared king, Victarion joins him, and Yara flees to the North to find her brother.

Speaking of the Theon, Ramsay is playing hunting games with Reek until Roose shows up and puts a stop to all of this nonsense. Clearly Ramsay is not pleased about having his power taken away, but there isn’t anything he can do about it. Roose sends for “Arya” from King’s Landing to legitimate their power. We introduce a Jeyne character, who isn’t Jeyne from the book but can keep her name, as Tywin picks out a prostitute (excuse for a brothel scene!) to train to pretend to be her. As we see scenes of Roose and Ramsay trying to placate upset lords in the North, with some scenes of Theon’s abuse, we grow increasingly terrified for her, as she has no idea what she is getting into and thinks this is her chance to leave sex work and be “a real lady.”

Elsewhere in King’s Landing, Oberyn and Ellaria arrive…with Arianne, introducing her ahead of time to get our “in.” We add a romance with her and Bronn to give us more sexy times (and yes, he will be replacing Arys since the show already seems to not care about his actual story, and it was kinda problematic anyway). The Purple Wedding happens. Sansa escapes in the aftermath, and she and Tyrion are accused of conspiracy to murder.

Jaime and Brienne show up, at the right point in the story this time. Brienne is immediately arrested. Her arc will be extended by having Loras be on her side (since he didn’t believe she did it) and they can bond over memories of Renly, to give back story and character development. Jaime and Loras can also start their friendship over helping Brienne. Yes, this renders her somewhat passive for a season, but she’ll get more to do in season 5 than sitting around watching for a candle as a result.

Jaime and Cersei’s sept scene should be…disturbing and ambiguous enough in terms of consent to make audiences uncomfortable, but not violent rape. Jaime and Cersei’s relationship is strained both by his desire to reveal their relationship and by him helping Brienne. Jaime later rejecting leaving the kingsguard to get her out of being sent back to Casterly Rock, and siding and visiting with Tyrion doesn’t help Cersei’s mistrust either.

Oh, and we can include the scenes mentioned in the book of her offering a threesome and a marriage to Oberyn to get him to throw the trial. Instead Tyrion, helped by Bronn and Arianne, convinces him to be his champion. Shae is shown being threatened by Cersei and Tywin; once she sees the trial and realizes Tyrion is doomed no matter what she does, she asks for the protections he promised in exchange for betraying him.

As for Oberyn and Ellaria’s sexualities...sure, have a scene where someone is poking fun at Loras and Oberyn is all “I dunno, I’d tap that” to shut them up, or show them visiting a brothel to find their threesome but emphasize that (1) they’re a happy couple looking to spice up their sex life and (2) are also doing this as part of information hunting, hinting at Oberyn’s role as a spy. A cool sexy spy - but not screwing everything that moves.

Mountain vs the Viper should take place in episode 8. In the next episode, Shae refuses to sell out Sansa to Cersei, and her protections are revoked. She goes over Cersei’s head to Tywin. Jaime gets Brienne released, then visits Tyrion and lets him out; we keep the Tysha reveal and Tyrion’s response of telling Jaime about Cersei’s affair with Lancel. Tyrion kills Shae and Tywin, and this time the viewer knows Shae always loved him, only did this under duress, and we are so angry at Tyrion for killing her unjustly.

In the final episode, the twins find Tywin’s body. Jaime feels guilty, and he runs into Lancel, setting up hints of his jealousy. Cersei puts out price on Tyrion’s head, and foreshadows her prophecy, saying something like “I always knew he would betray me…I won’t let you take Tommen.” The full flashback can be next season.

Oh, it would also be good to hint heavily that Varys is Up To Something this season, getting and sending mysterious letters, to set up the reveal of Griff in the next season.

Sansa, after fleeing, is off to the Eyrie, where Littlefinger tries to turn her on Tyrion, and she recalls out loud the people who were good to her in King’s Landing: Tyrion, the Hound, and the Tyrells – not Littlefinger. “But who is helping you now?” he replies. Can she trust him or not? Tension!

He marries Lysa and they go the Eyrie. There, Sansa ably poses as Littlefinger’s daughter. She meets Robin and sees him have an epileptic fit, as well as his mother’s poor parenting. The snow castle scene and the kiss happen, and Lysa turning on her before being murdered. This arc ends with Sansa testifying that Lysa committed suicide and Robin saying she’s his mother now. (The show was actually pretty close on all of this, tbh.)

On Dragonstone, Stannis gets word of Balon and Joffrey’s deaths. Melisandre blames Davos for sending off Edric too early and tries to have him executed as a traitor. Stannis waffles, until Davos gets word from the Wall…

Up at the Wall, Sam is uncomfortable with Gilly telling stories of his defeat of the White Walker, but Jon is using the knowledge about dragonglass. Ygritte’s party attacks the Wall, she dies and it is sad. Jon has a wolf dream (see below) and it freaks him out. Gilly gets to exposit wildling knowledge on skinchangers, including the Second Life. Meanwhile there’s also rumblings in the Watch against the incestuous origin of her baby (”It’s cursed; maybe we should just let it die?”) The siege begins; Janos Slynt finally arrives from King’s Landing and Jon is betrayed and sent to the wildlings. Stannis shows up in episode 8 or 9 (depending on how full these episodes are). This arc ends with Jon being appointed Lord Commander by Sam’s political maneuvering.

Beyond the Wall, we’ll take the show’s idea of Bran running into the deserters at Craster’s Keep, but it will be Coldhands (who can be Benjen to save an actor, fine, whatever) and supernatural forces that slay them, not Jon. Bran will have a wolf dream where he reaches out to Jon and awakens his powers. Ends with Bran and the group battling the wights and making it into the caverns where they meet the Three-Eyed Raven.

Over in Slaver’s Bay, Dany will start moving towards Meereen. Backstory about Aerys and Rhaegar get provided by Barristan (which will reinforce Oberyn’s revenge motive). She eventually reaches Meereen. We can include the champion combat from the book as her initial idea, with Grey Worm filling in for Strong Belwas, only the Meereenese back down after he wins. Yeah, it’s padding, but we need it, there’s not much plot left. Dany gets a message from inside that the slaves are ready to revolt if she attacks in such-and-such a way, and she does, and Meereen falls.

In all of this, Jorah is being super jealous of Daario and it is grating; his pure good guy status slowly erodes as his love becomes obsession. Inside Meereen, a red priestess gives Dany the biggest points of her prophecies from Quaithe and the House of the Undying (betrayed three times, mummer’s dragon, must go back to go forward). When she pieces together from Barristan’s story about an informant that Jorah betrayed her, she concludes he’s betrayal #2 and sends him away. Dany decides to stay and rule Meereen.

In the Riverlands, we have two plotlines. The first is Arya and the Hound. In the book, they head towards the Eyrie and stop at a village on the way. Here we will condense that into the Quiet Isle, to introduce them early and give some foreshadowing. They will be hosting refugees, letting us see more of the devastation from the war. The sparrows will make an early appearance visiting the Isle and declaring that they intend to take the complaints of the commoners to the capital. One of them recognizes the Hound, so he and Arya skedaddle.

Meanwhile Gendry is still hanging out with the Brotherhood, with more scenes of war devastation. In the very first episode, Beric and Thoros find an unidentified body by the river, and Beric gives up his life, freaking out Thoros. Said resurrected figure, the mysterious Lady Stoneheart, remains hidden in a cloak most of the season. Walder Frey sends out men, including some sellswords based on the Bloody Mummers, and Locke, to take out the Brotherhood, and sends Edmure as a hostage to try to retake Riverrun. Sandor gets injured when they get caught up in a fight with said Freys (featuring an audience-teasing almost-meet between Arya and Gendry), then Arya leaves the Hound for dead and heads off to Braavos. The final scene will be Locke apprehended by the Brotherhood and sentenced to die…and the final shot of the season reveals the identity of Lady Stoneheart - Catelyn Stark.

This may get talky in some places, but I think with enough good dialog you could get ten episodes’ worth of material. Keeping the Brotherhood can give you extra battle sequences as they fight Frey mooks; Craster’s Keep gives us supernatural action; and of course we get big twists and shockers for our final episodes the way the show likes.

[geanmin]

"Are you gonna sleep in the bathroom or what? Come on out."

Jackie slowly emerged from the basement bathroom into Hyde's dingy room.

Jackie had gotten caught in the pouring rain walking to the Foreman's house. She couldn't take her car of course, because the Foreman's would have noticed it. And Hyde didn't pick her up because she figured, hey, it's not that far. I'll just walk! Well, it poured. And she hadn't grabbed her umbrella. Jackie had gotten soaked to the bone, along with her overnight bag and all of her things.

They couldn't risk using the dryer in case it woke up one of the Foreman's. And she wasn't about to get caught trying to wear slutty Lori's clothes. Everything about her staying over had to remain a secret.

And a new addition to that secret was Jackie having to wear Hyde's clothes.

"Don't look! I'm hideous!"

Jackie looked like she would rather be dead then have to wear her boyfriend's Zeppelin t-shirt and grey suit pants. None of which had been washed by the way. Her makeup bag hadn't been preserved either so here she stood, Jackie Burkhart— yes you heard that correctly— Jackie Burkhart, with no makeup on, her hair flat and damp from the rain, mascara residue under her eyes, and wearing used sweatpants and a band t-shirt.

She didn't know who she was gonna kill or fire but she knew someone was going to pay for this.

Hyde stared at his preppy, stuck up, superficial girlfriend all stripped of her usual drag. She has never let him see her without make up or without designer clothes. She would apply what she called her "sleeping make up" when she was over and slept with her hair still done and usually wore her matching pyjama set. So to see her wearing his clothes, and out of her comfort zone, was pretty hot he wasn't gonna lie.

And truth be told, Hyde loved the way Jackie presented herself if only because it's how she wants to present herself. She's comfortable and confident. She always looked good and it didn't matter to him that she didn't give off some biker chick persona. But it certainly was entertaining to see her all cute and frazzled in his own clothes.

He couldn't hide the smirk that grew on his face.

"You're laughing at me. Stop it! I'm ugly and gross and you're not supposed to see me like this."

Jackie remembered the first and only time her ex-boyfriend Michael saw her without make up. Sure, she was also extremely sick. But he was so revolted and scared of her that she swore she would never be without makeup in front of her boyfriend again. Does Steven think she's ugly? Does he hate her now? Is he gonna break up with her? She's gonna get broken up with while wearing bagging clothes!!!

Jackie felt herself getting worked up despite her attempts at suppressing her tears.

"Stop laughing. It's not funny."

"Baby, I'm not laughing at you."

Hyde was on the other side of the room, mostly to admire his girlfriend's new look. But he got up from his chair so she could see just how much he wasn't laughing. He's not about to be in trouble with her over something he didn't do. As he approached her in the doorway, he realized this issue was bigger than he expected.

"Holy shit you're crying."

He took her in his arms and she finally let it out. She remained with her arms crossed, too afraid to expose more of her unshapely attire. Hyde pulled her close and rubbed her back.

"Come on, it's okay."

Hyde wasn't an accomplished comforter, okay? Cut him some slack...

"Tell me what's wrong, baby"

"I'm hideous!!!" Jackie cried out. Hyde was a little worried the Foreman's might hear her so he took to gently shushing her until she stopped crying, or at least until she could talk without wailing. Hyde had dealt with crying Jackie before but this was something else. He genuinely didn't understand where this was coming from.

When her cries had become sniffles and his shirt essentially a tissue, Hyde used his hands to pull Jackie's face up towards him. He whipped her tears away with his thumb and kissed her nose. She smiled.

"Okay baby, what's wrong?"

"You were laughing at me because of how ugly I am."

"Jackie... I wasn't laughing at you. I promise."

"But I'm not wearing make up and my hair is horrible. Worse than Donna's! And I'm not in my nice clothes and—"

Okay, now Hyde was laughing at her.

"See? You're laughing at me!"

"Because, man, you're cracking me up."

"I'm gonna walk home."

Jackie tries to leave but Hyde pulls her hand to bring her back in his arms.

"Jackie, I'm laughing now because... I never get to see you with your defenses down like this. It's like I'm looking at a different Jackie. One who maybe even has a soul."

"Steven, that's not funny. Last time a boyfriend of mine saw me without makeup he screamed and ran and almost broke up with me and here you are laughing because I'm hideous."

"Jac, I'm not that idiot Kelso, okay? I love the way you look when you do your make up but right now, with your hair all droopy, and your big eyes staring up at me with those little black flakes, not to mention your ass in my sweatpants—"

"Steven! You're mocking me!"

"What? Jackie, you look totally hot! You look super cute. I swear. I was only laughing because you seemed so upset over nothing. Babe, you're radiating burnout cuteness."

Jackie looks up at her boyfriend. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses so she could actually see into his eyes. He stared at her, absentmindedly stroking her hair down her back with one hand, while still holding her cheek with the other. He was giving her That Look. It's the same look he gives her when they're lying in bed, just cuddling. Or when she brings him a popsicle. Or when she gets up to change the record. Or when he thinks she's not looking. With just his eyes he takes her in, and she feels seen, like the precious (expensive, glamorous, and high end) jewel that she is.

"Do you really mean it, baby?"

He kissed her ever so softly. He wanted to be delicate with her, suppressing all of his desires to be the opposite of delicate.

"You look incredibly sexy."

Jackie stretched her arms around Hyde's neck and brought his neck in for another kiss. Hyde held her tighter this time, their kiss deeper and stronger.

Hyde didn't want to push anything. He didn't want to mess up Jackie staying at the Foreman's by pressuring her to have sex. He didn't want her to have any excuse to try to stay back at her abandoned house by herself. But damn if he didn't want to take her right then.

Jackie had just gone from feeling the least sexy she had ever felt in her life to wanting to mount her boyfriend right then and there. Talk about a mood swing...

Jackie slid her hands down her boyfriend's old shirt, the one he was wearing, and touched his stomach. She began to climb, feeling his chest. Hyde responded by grabbing her butt and pulling her closer.

They broke their kiss to stare into each other's eyes. As much as they wanted this, the risk was too high. They couldn't be found out, and worse, found out while doing it.

"We should...uh... go to sleep."

Jackie almost chocked those words out, and pulled herself off from her boyfriend. She checked to make sure all of her clothes were hanging up drying so she had something respectable to wear for tomorrow.

She felt eyes on her.

"What?"

Hyde had been giving her That Look as she walked around his room, still looking cute as ever in his clothes. He didn't know when he'd ever get this gorgeous view again so he was soaking in the sights.

"Well get a nice long look because this is the last time you'll see me like this."

"Whatever makes you happy, babe."

Ah, that smirk again. Jackie wanted to be mad but it melted her. She looked around and figured all of her ducks were in a row.

She walked over to Hyde, now standing by his cot waiting for her.

She gave him a kiss as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you, baby."

Hyde seemed to have successfully passed whatever test this was. His girlfriend wasn't screaming, or crying. She was still willing to sleep there. Except there was still one problem...

"Oh uh, hey it's totally fine that we don't do it tonight and all. I'm not pressuring you or anything but uh... I just wanted you to know that uh...There's not really anything I can do about this uh situation."

Hyde tried to gingerly bring up the uh, issue at hand. He pointed to his crotch hoping Jackie would get the message.

"Steven!" Jackie playfully slapped Hyde on the arm.

"What? It's not my fault you're a little tease and look super cute in my clothes."

Jackie wanted to be super mad. She didn't know the appropriate response. In all honesty she wasn't. Steven's boner didn't make Jackie uncomfortable or angry and she didn't consider him pervy for it. Actually, she was proud of herself that despite looking like absolute trash, she's still got it.

"I'll take it as a compliment. But don't start any funny business!"

"Yes, dear."

Hyde and Jackie made their way on to the cot. Lying down, Hyde held her close while trying to position his waist to not make her uncomfortable.

Jackie pulled Steven closer to her, and he buried his head in her neck. Usually he would burry himself in her luscious, feathered, dry hair. But today, he had a damp, clumpy mess. He didn't seem to mind.

And as much as Jackie swore to NEVER LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN... it seems she could allow it, just for one night. It would all be fine. She can do her make up and hair in the morning. Her designer clothes will be dry. And she'll be her presentable self again in less than 12 hours.

But as she laid there with her boyfriend still holding on to her, still attracted to her, still caring for her, she felt a sign of relief. She could let it go.

It's only for one night.

[graceivers]

Review #25 - November 9

November 9 Author: Colleen Hoover Genre: Contemporary Romance Rating: ★ Recommendation: not worth it; once was enough Summary: Fallon is an actress who has difficulty finding on-screen work these days given her changed physical appearance. Ben is an aspiring writer with a big secret. After meeting briefly, they agree to meet each other one day a year until they are twenty-three. During this time, they ‘fall in love with each other’, but that secret Ben’s hiding might just ruin everything.

Female Lead: There are two major things about Fallon that must be discussed. One okay thing and one horrible thing that Hoover did that made this character absolutely insufferable. First, Fallon’s insecurities. This is the first Hoover book I’ve read, but I’ve read enough summaries and brief reviews on Goodreads regarding this book and her others to know that this is Hoover’s theme: battered and insecure girls. Fallon has scars from fourth-degree burns over a large section of her body. She was previously an actress, so appearances mean a lot. The okay thing was that her insecurities are understandable. Having her passion/dream and self-confidence taken away from her because of her scars makes sense. Getting attached to Ben who doesn’t try to ignore the fact that she has these scars and subsequently makes her feel beautiful regardless is understandable. Wanting attention and acquiring self-confidence through validation from others is relatable. These are all the things that made Fallon’s character work.

The biggest problem with Fallon’s character? THE ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE, DEMEANING, AND BELITTLING WAY HOOVER WROTE AND TREATED HER FEMALE CHARACTER. I’m a feminist, people. Let’s put that out there. And I have a serious, serious issue with the way Hoover treated Fallon’s character because honestly, this female lead was manipulated and used to prop up the male hero and make him feel better about himself for all the damage he has done. I mean, after everything Ben had done to Fallon, she not only forgives him but also apologizes! THIS IS DISGUSTING. Why is Fallon apologizing to Ben for treating him the way she did when she found out the truth? He deserved it and worse! The fact that Hoover made the female apologize to the male when the former did nothing wrong compared to the latter makes this book really unforgivable to me. This girl is the victim here, but Hoover turns it around and tries to make us feel for the guy instead. NO. WRONG ANSWER. Fallon does not deserve to be treated this way by Ben or Hoover for that matter. She is not a prop; her purpose in the book should never be to ease the conscience of the male who wronged her. Absolutely not. No thank you. Male Lead: Never have I been so infuriated with a character before on such a deep level. There have been plenty of other jerk male leads who are a dumb and annoying and make terrible decisions, but Ben takes the cake. He’s the worst kind of character that does not deserve the love and attention he receives from Fallon and all you readers that classify him as a book boyfriend. You think this guy is boyfriend material because of the way he speaks in prose and makes Fallon feel beautiful and special? You’re wrong. I am honestly and genuinely sorry, but you are so dead wrong.

Ben is invasive and not in a good way at all. He manipulatively inserts himself into Fallon’s life. He rarely if ever asks for permission or consent, and even when he does, it’s beyond the point of doing so. He makes Fallon cry more often than not. He took her dress off without an absolute yes from her. HE IS NOT FUNNY AT ALL. Almost every time he opened his mouth to tell Fallon about how she should not care about what other people think, I was like WRONG ANSWER. He wants people to laugh at her? He tells her that it’s her fault the way people treat her with her scars? WRONG ANSWER. WRONG ANSWER. That is not endearing. That’s insensitive and disgusting, especially considering the particular role he played in Fallon’s life circumstances overall. I don’t care that speaks in a ‘beautiful’ way. Hoover was smart in making him a writer so he could talk that way, but that does not excuse his horrendous, manipulative, and invasive behavior at all.

It is clear to me that Hoover cared a lot more about making a redeeming and ‘book-boyfriend’ worthy male than writing a solid female lead. Ben is given so much slack and leeway; he’s given a substantially more important part of the overarching plot line as well as receiving all the secondary plots for additional angst and emotions from his reactions. Maybe in other circumstances I would’ve generally ignored this, but I cannot here when Hoover clearly wanted to make a shrine for Ben who does not deserve one and basically sacrificed Fallon to build that shrine. I’m so angry and disgusted. Plot & Writing: November 9 was messed-up on so many levels. For an innocent-, romantic-, and borderline comedic-sounding plot, this book is not any of those things. It’s dramatic and angsty and not in any of the ways I enjoy. And yeah, Hoover alludes to the major plot twist in the summary, but good God, I never expected the plot twist to be so revolting.

The one okay thing I somewhat enjoyed was the structure of the book and all of its meta references. I liked the fact that it was meta, however, I did not like that despite the fact the characters were cognizant of comparing their relationship to common romance novel tropes, those moments were reduced to nothing. I mean, the characters constantly talk about the pitfalls of instalove, and yet their relationship was exactly that. And I’m supposed to believe in it and support it? It does not matter that it’s been five years since they met. They’ve spent less than those five days together—as people, as strangers, as friends, or as a couple. They don’t know each other, and while I can be as much as a hopeless romantic as anyone, Fallon clearly should’ve gotten to know this disgusting jackass—excuse my language—before ‘falling in love with him’. I didn’t believe in their relationship prior to the plot twist, and I certainly didn’t believe in it or care for their relationship at all after knowing it. In fact, I would say I was adamantly against their relationship. I wanted Fallon to keep her distance. I wanted her to move back to New York. I wanted Ben to suffer for the rest of his life knowing that was what he deserved after everything he said and did to Fallon.

I said a lot about how I felt Hoover did such injustice to her female character, but I must add some more. I really, honestly kind of resent Hoover for writing Fallon the way she did, and I am genuinely unlikely to read any of her other books—no matter how highly rated they are on Goodreads—because if her pattern of broken and insecure women continues the way it did here, I am not going to put myself through that. It was shockingly horrible the way Hoover treated her female character with such little regard. To me, Fallon was genuinely a prop to make Ben feel better about himself. It was all about Ben and what Hoover could do to redeem him and have him forgive himself at Fallon’s expense. I mean, why else was Fallon the one that had to fly to California to see him every year they met up? Why was Ben given the angsty secondary plot and emotional turmoil when Fallon was the real victim? Why was Fallon the one that had to sacrifice and make him feel better? Why was Ben allowed to talk to Fallon the way he did? Why did Fallon take it just because he was the first guy that paid sexual attention to her? WHY, HOOVER? Why did you deprecate your female character so much? It was so sickening that I almost felt personally attacked as a female. Again, I understand that Fallon was attached to Ben because he made her feel beautiful when no one else did. But Jesus, knowing the reasoning for why he was there that day in the first place? His poetic words of love are all negated. I get why Fallon found self-worth through Ben’s attention, but no woman should ever devalue herself so much the way Hoover disparaged Fallon. I repeat. NO WOMAN SHOULD EVER DEVALUE HERSELF THAT WAY AND ONLY SEE HER SELF-WORTH AND VALUE IN CATERING TO A MAN’S NEEDS.

Also, because this is me, the sex scenes. They were not explicit and kind of faded to black. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, and I’m all for it, really. But did it seem like they didn’t use protection? Yes. I know condom isn’t exactly a sexy word, and again, Hoover didn’t write descriptive sex, which is fine. But it felt like they didn’t care and that there was no protection. Not okay. Secondary Characters & Plots: KYLE KESSLER, I MOURNED YOUR SHORT BUT AWESOME LIFE. Seriously, Kyle was the only character I loved and cared about. Well, him and Jordyn. But alas, Hoover made Ben use Jordyn too, so that was annoying. The only other secondary characters that stuck out was Fallon’s father. He was not a great dude either. The two seconds we saw of Fallon’s mother and her friend, Amber, were so negligent. I mean, it seemed like Hoover tried to give Fallon a supportive and strong female friendship, but clearly she didn’t care about any of the females in her book to write it convincingly.

The secondary plot of killing off the amazing Kyle Kessler? I hated it. I hated it not only because Kyle and Jordyn certainly didn’t deserve that, but also because it was so painfully and disgustingly obvious that Hoover only made that decision to increase the level of angst for Ben and Ben only. Hoover only wanted Ben to feel sad; she only wanted us to feel sympathetic for Ben. I did not buy any of it. Favorite Part(s): When Kyle decked Ben. Seriously, if we can just copy and paste that single line over every single line of every single page, I would be so much happier and would give the book like a four and half star rating. Kyle, you were the only sane and good one. Final Thoughts: I genuinely do not understand why November 9 is the highest rated book I’ve read on Goodreads. It does not deserve any of the tears or praise it has received. I am so mad at the characters in the book, at the disgusting overall storyline including the plot twist, and at Hoover for her horrendous anti-feminist writing. My recommendation is stated above: not worth it. In fact, the recommendation should read: NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS. DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND FIND SOMETHING ELSE THAT DOESN’T BELITTLE WOMEN IN FAVOR OF MEN. And I stick adamantly by those words.

[sassybinchesinc]

Nobody ever sends me asks when I do this shit but I feel like revealing everything about my life so I’m just going to answer everything like those annoying Facebook posts lol MAKE ME ADMIT STUFFFF 1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? Considering I’m currently in a fwb type thing with him, absolutely 2. You talked to an ex today, correct? No but I did yesterday 3. Have you taken someones virginity? Not that I know of 4. Is trust a big issue for you? Yes! I’m a very trusting person so I expect at least close to the same level as trust 5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? I’m not really sure if I actually “like someone” right now 6. What are you excited for? Tomorrow night because I’m seeing my fwb 7. What happened tonight? Just going to bed lol 8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? No! However I think it’s absolutely revolting when anyone gets so drunk that they puke in something that’s not a toilet 9. Is confidence cute? It can be. Personally I like it when guys have confidence bc I find it sexy but it really depends on the kind of confidence for girls 10. What is the last beverage you had? Water 11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? That’s a good question. I think I trust most of them unless they’ve given me a reason not to 12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? The only jeans I own are skinny jeans lol 13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? Probably nothing 14. What are you going to spend money on next? Probably food 15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? No.. 16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? Hopefully. There’s a lot I need to change right now 17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? Bizzy! 18. The last time you felt broken? Pretty recently. 19. Have you had sex today? No. 20. Are you starting to realize anything? Maybe. I hope I’m wrong tho 21. Are you in a good mood? I’m currently kind of frustrated 22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? Would I want to? Yes would I ever? No 23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? Yes 24. What do you want right this second? To be cuddling with austin 25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? I’m completely over him so I’d be fine 26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? No. Honestly I’m not sure what my natural hair color is anymore 27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? No I wouldn’t. Mostly because literally anything can make me laugh 28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? Probably some dumb fucking picture 29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? Yes I think I do... 30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? Sure. 31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? no not at all! 32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? they might idk if I even know if I like them 33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? no. But I do try to mostly drink water 34. Listening to? POPPY! 35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? unless I'm at work or I need to use pen for a test I always use pencil 36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? yes. He's at his home 37. Do you believe in love at first sight? idk maybe. I've never experienced it tho 38. Who did you last call? my mom 39. Who was the last person you danced with? My friend Amanda at her sorority formal 40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? He's a great kisser and I like doing it 41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? Like Sunday? 42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? No 😞 I live like 3 hours away from both of them 43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? All I ever do is embarrass myself in front of anyone so yes 44. Do you tan in the nude? No 45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? not at all 46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? no. Unfortunately he ALWAYS falls asleep first 47. Who was the last person to call you? my brother Matthew 48. Do you sing in the shower? of my roommates not home 49. Do you dance in the car? yes. And sing LOUD 50. Ever used a bow and arrow? Yes in middle school PE 51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? senior year pictures 52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? some of them are but I LOVE them 53. Is Christmas stressful? it can be but I always try to just enjoy myself 54. Ever eat a pierogi? yes 55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Apple 56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? astronaut! Or inventor 57. Do you believe in ghosts? no 58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? yes 59. Take a vitamin daily? no 60. Wear slippers? very rarely 61. Wear a bath robe? again, very rarely 62. What do you wear to bed? usually a tshirt and shorts or a pair of panties 63. First concert? umm some weird old band that played at my county fair 64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? target. 65. Nike or Adidas? Nike 66. Cheetos Or Fritos? cheetos 67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? sunflower seeds 68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? I really like 22 and wildest dreams and dear john 69. Ever take dance lessons? no 70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? something business-y 71. Can you curl your tongue? I think so. 72. Ever won a spelling bee? no. I think the only one I've ever been in is The 25th annual Putnam county spelling bee lol 73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? I've cried from laughing too hard if that counts 74. What is your favorite book? that's tricky... I honesty can't say. 75. Do you study better with or without music? without. I wish I could study with music but I get to mo distracted singing 76. Regularly burn incense? no 77. Ever been in love? I thought I was when I was 17 but looking back I probably wasn't 78. Who would you like to see in concert? poppy lol. Bo burnham 79. What was the last concert you saw? I don't really go to concerts lol 80. Hot tea or cold tea? hot tea. Iced tea has to be sweet tea 81. Tea or coffee? tea 82. Favorite type of cookie? Oreo thins or thin mints 83. Can you swim well? yes! 84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? yes 85. Are you patient? Im a server so I kind of have to be 86. DJ or band, at a wedding? Dj 87. Ever won a contest? I got 2nd place at s tennis tourney a couple of times. 88. Ever have plastic surgery?