#a fucking masterpiece in fantasy and fiction

[peachdues]

just read a satyr!levi x nymph!reader fic which has reignited my Greek mythology bullshit

[yanderestarangel]

desperate for a one-shot of johnny fucking the reader and tomas being a peeping tom and getting turned on by the reader getting fucked 🫣 (p.s ur writing is a MASTERPIECE)

★ 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖊𝖘 ★

𝖏𝖔𝖍𝖓𝖓𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 + 𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝖛𝖗𝖇𝖆𝖉𝖆

TW: v!sex, afab anatomy, voyeurism, m! masturbation, whining, semi-public sex, johnny cage x reader + voyer tomas, degradation, pet names, creampie, objectification, smut, angst, porn plot only, no pronouns used other than 'you'.

A/N: thanks anon, I hope you like it <3

Tomas Vrbada was now Johnny Cage's wingman, always going to clubs with the star, however, he met you, Johnny's partner, you and Johnny had sex and had fun after his divorce, but Tomas didn't expect to catch you and the actor from movies together, fucking in the nightclub bathroom, but he couldn't and wouldn't look away from your body, being dominated by him.

"-Fuck..." Tomas sighed softly, looking through the crack in the open door, while watching Cage fuck you. Tomas's eyes widened as he watched the erotic scene unfold before him. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight of you, legs spread wide, your wet pussy enveloping Johnny's thick cock. The sound of your sweet moans filled the bathroom, sending shivers down Tomas's spine. The bulge in his pants grew, straining against the fabric as his own desire surged through his body.

Unable to resist any longer, Tomas's hand instinctively moved to his crotch, his fingers fumbling to unzip his pants. He needed release, his cock throbbing with anticipation. He watched as Johnny's hands gripped your hips, guiding you rhythmically against him, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge of pleasure.

Tomas's breath hitched as he imagined himself in Johnny's place, his own hands gripping your hips, his cock buried deep inside you. His mind was filled with delicious fantasies of taking you, pleasuring you in ways that only he could imagine. The thought of joining the two of you in this debauched act sent a surge of heat through his body.

As Vrbada continued to stroke himself, his gaze never wavering, he couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to have you moaning his name, to feel your walls clenching around his length. The sensations overwhelmed. "-I wish that was me.." He muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a mixture of envy and arousal - The ninja pictured himself thrusting into you, feeling your wetness enveloping him, your moans filling the air - the thought of being the one to make you submit, to hear you cry out his name - made him go madder with desire, all the veins in his dick were pulsating at that moment, he didn't even care if he was caught by someone or not - his gaze shifted to the mirror, where he caught a glimpse of his reflection.

He wanted to see you at your most vulnerable, to witness.

"-I want you so fucking bad, let me taste you, let me fuck you..." He whispered, imagining himself with you, thrusting into your wet pussy, claiming it as his own. I want to fuck you like that, I'd fuck you so hard, baby..." Tomas repeated, his voice a low growl now, his hand moving faster under the clothes.

Johnny accelerated his hips into your pussy, opening your thighs wide, you didn't even know where your panties were, as he searched for more and more lustful and hot fiction with the actor's naked cock, while his thick hands dug into your soft skin.

"-Kitten... You're so fucking wet..." Johnny growled, his voice thick with lust. He looked down at your body, the way your pussy glistened under the bathroom lights, how your breasts bounced whenever he thrust into you.

"-I bet you want another cock inside you already, don't you?" Johnny smirked, his balls were hitting your ass at a speed that would leave you raw, drunk on your pussy, his shirt was open and his glasses were crooked, drops of sweat were falling from his forehead, directly onto your skin - did you see a shadow at the door, but he didn't care, nothing mattered at that moment - Cage accelerated his hips into your pussy, opening your thighs wide, you didn't even know where your panties were, as he searched for more and more lustful and hot fiction with the actor's naked cock, while his thick hands dug into your soft skin.

"-Mmmm... fuck yeah, take it all." Tomas murmured, moaning lowly, while biting his lower lip, leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, however, his blue eyes still focused on your body jumping with each wild thrust of Cage, while the ninja tried not to moan loudly and get your attention, beg to fuck you too, give you pleasure with Johnny.

Vrbada wanted to be there, inside that bathroom - Johnny, continued to fuck you roughly on the cold marble of the bathroom sink. "-You fucking love it, don't you?" Johnny growled, his voice raspy with lust, as he smiled smugly at you, slamming his dick repeatedly into your wet core.

Tomas watched as Johnny pushed himself deeper into you, his hips moving in a slow, rhythmic pace. He could see the look of pure satisfaction on your face, the way your eyes closed and your lips parted slightly.

"-You feel so fucking good... Oh god, yes..." He groaned, his hand moving faster now, his cock throbbing beneath his pants. Tomas murmured quietly, imagining himself between his legs, his tongue tracing the outline of your wetness.

"-I need to be inside you, let me claim you, let me breed you... I want to see that pretty face when I fuck you. The way your eyes roll, the way your lips open..."

You finally felt the unbearable inferno of breaking point, your pussy squeezing Cage's shaft. As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsed in ecstasy. Johnny’s cock pulsed inside you, filling you with his hot release, as your pussy squeezed him tight, milking every drop of his cum. The sensation made you go into a mind-blowing orgasm, your moans of pleasure echoing throughout the penunbral bathroom, screaming your dominator's name there.

Tomas, unable to contain himself any longer, succumbed to his own desires. His hand moved feverishly over his throbbing cock, his grip tight as he followed your lead - The sight of you climaxing, your body shaking with pleasure, sent him over the edge. With a guttural groan, he released his pent-up desire, hot jets of sperm shot from his pulsing shaft to his hand, moaning your name low and hoarse, he trembled and his muscles tensed from the act - Johnny remained inside you, your breathing ragged as his cock softened inside your satisfied pussy.

Smoke, with his own release diminishing, couldn't help but feel a mixture of satisfaction and guilt for giving in to that, the desire to have you was still present in him, he just decided to walk away frustrated, for not having you, a dangerous feeling, that mixed with the dark desires of the lin kuei ninja.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[susiephone]

while i find a lot of criticism of booktok and "booktok books" to be valid, a lot of it seems......very reminiscent of the anti-twilight stuff in the early 2010s. like specifically the parts that were like "TWILIGHT IS THE DEATH OF FEMINISM AND LITERACY" and "VAMPIRES AND BOOKS ARE RUINED FOREVER" and "THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO LIKE TWILIGHT ARE DUMB TEENAGE GIRLS WHO ARE DUMB AND DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER" rather than like. actual critiques of the books. and even some of the more valid claims would sort of position themselves as if teenage girls reading twilight can't tell fiction from reality. like i'm not saying you can't or shouldn't criticize popular books (i certainly have), or saying that it's not fun to rag on a book you hate (it sure as hell is). but treating a book you don't like getting popular (esp with teenagers) as the end of literacy and the publishing industry and good writing is just plain absurd.

like i'm not saying all these books are secretly masterpieces, or even that they're all good. i've read some shit booktok books, just like i read some shit YA books back in 2012. but weirdly, the world did not come to an end and good books are still getting published. many of those books provided me with genuine entertainment, solace, and community, even if in hindsight they weren't the best, and i don't think it's fair, kind, or logical to treat people like they're stupid for enjoying books like this. (not to mention, how many people really got into reading because of Generic YA Fantasy #45 or Fun Mindless Romance #207 or Pulply Trashy Sci-Fi #62? maybe they'll branch out into other types of literature, maybe not. but it's still good that they're reading.)

and, frankly, learning to recognize and critique genuinely problematic tropes and elements in these books has made me a better writer and more attentive and educated reader. sometimes being able to articulate why something is bad is important, and sometimes that requires actually reading the damn book. and i would say that goes double for books you enjoy but contain iffy elements - it's a lot easier to completely dismiss a book that's nothing but 500 red flags in a trenchcoat, but if you're in a place of "wow this book really spoke to me in x, y, z way and i really enjoyed it BUT a, b, c were really poorly handled," it gets trickier.

TL;DR: no, barnes and noble having a booktok table is not going to kill literature as we know it, and no, people enjoying a book you find overhyped and cringe doesn't mean they're all mindless sheep who can't enjoy True Literature. calm the fuck down.

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]

mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely

mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note

mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena

mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us

mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]

mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys

mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker

mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die

mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey

mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast

mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.

mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER

mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree

mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world

mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!

mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all

mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens

mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys

mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way

mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what

mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife

mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband

mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me

mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve

mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,

mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol

mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport

mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.

mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!

mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back

mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]

mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho

mutual 4: WHAT

mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time

mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point

mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?

mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?

mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it

mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!

mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena

[bestanimatedmovie]

Choose your favorite!

Time to fly!

Vote in the other polls!

What fans say:

How To Train Your Dragon:

The message was just nice. I have a lot of nostalgia for it. I used to be a huge dragon nerd as a kid and dragons just weren't that prevalent in media here, especially not as friendly figures. I still love HTTYD and it's sequels nowadays.

It was one of my favorite movies as a kid and one of the few movies I watched that wasn't a barbie movie, it's just really cool.

Best movie featuring dragons period. The pure wish fulfillment fantasy of having a highly intelligent fantasy creature companion that can fly and doesn’t mind being ridden like a horse, therefore also the best execution of the dragon rider trope in all of fiction. Extremely funny, adding to the comedy is the fact that only adults have Scottish accents and all the teens have an American accent. So good that even its tv show follow up was decent by extension. The bit where Hiccup is trying to earn Toothless' trust and they start to work together changed me on a fundamental level.

I LOVE IT SO MUCHSHJKBSKHGDK I have a bone dysplasia which causes some bones to be a little bit more hollow and whenever I would feel a pain in my top back, 8 year old me was like ''woah I'm growing wings its my time to fly like toothless'' lol and it was always a dream of mine to fly. Weirdly enough I could relate to toothless because the "not being able to fly but you should be" felt like an allegory to a lot of my life! It gave me hope when he WAS able to after the help of others + the care he always needed + that mechanic wing thing made me feel like with the right ''recipe'' could help me get better too. My favourite scene is the first flight!! I love the animation for it, it makes me feel like im flying through the clouds too! The soundtrack is amazing too, I still cry to the songs.

I could write an entire essay about how much I love this movie, it truly is one of the best films ever made to me. Utterly flawless on both a technical level and a story-telling level. Not to mention the score oh my GOD the score of this movie changed my life. There are too many scenes that are so impactful, but the Forbidden Friendship scene has to be one of the best. Test Drive too.

This is literally my favorite movie of all time. This movie got me through the worst times in my life. It’s about love and friendship and all that lovely goopy stuff and it’s also fucking gorgeous.

THE cinematic masterpiece of our generation. On god.

This movie is an absolute masterpiece, the animation is pretty, the score is perfect, the relationship between Toothless and Hiccup is so sweet, Toothless is absolutely adorable. Definitely one of DreamWork's best films.

It's a beautifully animated movie about an unconventional viking boy named Hiccup finding his place in a world where dragons and vikings are constantly at odds, and how he changes the world around him. The dragon designs are unique and beautiful, and the vikings are larger than life and match the exaggerated setting.

Who on Tumblr DOESN'T want a dragon best friend I ask you. I would kill to have what Hiccup & Toothless have.

It does a brilliant job balancing tropes in a way that subverts and plays into them. There is so much in it for both adults and kids, it doesn't look like other animated films, it feels more grounded and in that realism it becomes so beautiful. The friendship in the film feels very real despite one of the characters being unable to talk! Forbidden Friendship scene is, in my opinion, the greatest scene in the history of cinema. The music, the lighting, the cinematography, the pacing, the emotions, it is practically perfect in every way. I could go on but I think ya get it.

God this movie defined my childhood and it's still so good when I rewatch it now. I'm guessing you'll have had this submitted a good few times bc it goddamn deserves it but. Hiccup is so relatable and !! dragons !! big cute dragons whose animation models are based on cats!! based fr

I have many fond childhood memories of this movie and in particular I loved how my cousin would "talk" for Toothless (cousin was babysitting us when we first watched the movie). Another thing is The SCORE. The music is iconic and awe inspiring to this day. That first time when Hiccup and Toothless fly together and it Works and the score absolutely goes HARD, I loose my breath every time. It's great. Also have you seen Toothless he's an adorable dragon and a badass, what's not to love?

Makes me cry every time because Hiccup and Toothless are such good friends and they love each other and end up as two halves of a boy dragon soulmate sandwich also the music is extremely good who doesn’t like dragons anyway.

It's the story of a beautiful friendship forming between a boy who doesn't fit in and a dragon who is the last of his kind. It's so cute. And it shows positive representation of disability, Hiccup and Toothless become disabled in ways that meaningfully parallel each other. Hiccup makes a prosthetic tail fin! And Toothless is just so cute!

The sound track is amazing

Honestly everything is phenomenal. It has a good use of comedy and an excellent story and character development. There are also countless beautiful and awe-inspiring scenes supported by an amazing score.

Up:

It is a very emotional movie about an old man learning to still enjoy life even though his wife died.

Such a beautiful film about loss

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIII.

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Exploring the complexities of their relationship, revealing past traumas and personal struggles that deepen their connection.

WORD COUNT: ~10k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: masturbation (m), gun mention/use, substance use (weed and alcohol), mention of suicide, mention of religion, mutual pining, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: oh boy… everyone grab a snack and get cozy because we're getting into the thick of it! a lot of character exposition this chap but i promise it's fun :p also couldn't help myself from making javi and helena a thing (?) 🙈 it just felt right™ lol anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier leans forward, allowing his forehead to gently meet the chill of the shower tiles. Steam envelops the entire bathroom, swirling around him as the warmth of the cascading water embraces his skin.

Every fiber of his being screams against the temptation, but it’s too overwhelming to resist. His mind has been hijacked by lascivious musings since his first flicker of consciousness, and it only intensified with each passing second. The rational part of him had urged for a cold shower to extinguish the smoldering fire, but the primal instinct within demanded something more .

His cock has been throbbing with want since the moment he woke, the crimson head moistened with a droplet of precum. A deep moan escaped his lips as he reached down to ease the tension, but just as he began to feel a rush of pleasure, thoughts of her invaded his mind.

Her laughter a symphony of sensuality.

The warmth in her eyes like a glowing ember, making him feel hot with a desire he’s never experienced before.

The curve of her ass a work of art, a masterpiece that he longed to caress and gently bite down on as he worshipped her body.

And those magnificent tits of hers, god how they had looked that night at the fair, teasing and tempting him with their lusciousness in her corset.

The way she wore low-rise jeans, clinging to her hips like a second skin, had him yearning to leave bruising marks with the press of his fingertips; preferably as he took her from behind, her ass bouncing against his thighs while his dick pistoned into her.

He had halted immediately, his hand retracting swiftly from beneath the sheet as if scalded by its touch. Muttering curses under his breath, he rose with a sense of urgency, the need to cleanse both body and mind propelling him towards the shower to prepare for the day ahead.

Now he’s here, doing his worst to keep the fantasies away. Javier imagines her joining him in the shower, he can almost feel her wet body pressed against his. He envisions her sinking to her knees, wrapping those pouty pink lips around him and taking him deep into her mouth. Feeling her tight throat clenching around him as she gags and struggles to breathe, eagerly swallowing every drop of his release. The temptation is too much to bear, and he surrenders to the sensual daydream.

Fuck , in a slow and deliberate movement, Javier's hand glides down the contours of his chiseled chest, trailing down his soft abdomen until it reaches its ultimate destination. Wrapping his hand around his impressive girth, he begins to stroke himself with gentle, yet purposeful movements. But no matter how hard he tries to push her from his mind, the thought of Paloma lingers, taunting him. He desperately tries to conjure up memories of past lovers, but none of them compare to the fiery passion that she ignites within him.

She would look so pretty pinned up against the wall, resembling a riveting piece of artwork, as he stuffed his cock deep into her. He wonders whether she could handle him all at once or if he would have to indulge in the slow pleasure of opening her up with his skilled tongue and fingers, coaxing her into a frenzy of orgasmic bliss.

She must taste heavenly, like nectar from a honeysuckle on a warm spring day. Javier's mouth waters at the thought of exploring her so intimately, getting lost in the sensation of her warm and feeling her wetness smearing all over his lips and jaw. He could almost hear her sweet moans of pleasure as he licked and sucked on her most sensitive spots, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.

He’d do it over and over again until she was whining that it was too much and she couldn’t take it anymore.

But she would, he’d make sure of it. He’d be determined to make her succumb to his every desire. Javier would talk her through the waves of pleasure, whispering the filthiest things in her ear and savoring the sound of her dulcet whimpers and melodic moans as she unraveled under his skilled touch.

He knows she’d make the prettiest faces, her swollen lips parting and repeating his name over and over, eyes shut close in which he’d tell her to open those pretty eyes of hers so she could watch him get her off for the umpteen time. He wouldn’t fuck her with his dick, not until he’s made it clear how generous of a lover he is.

He tenses briefly, heavy cock still in his hand as his pace moves from languish movements to quicker flicks of his wrist.

He’s so close, the familiar spark of arousal causing him to shudder as his balls clench with anticipation; images of Paloma, stripped naked and spread out before him in a myriad of sensual scenarios and positions flood his mind, driving him to groan with unbridled passion. His orgasm racks through him harshly, his release coating his fingers in a sticky sheen before vanishing down the drain.

Javier pauses to regain his composure and gather his breath. His forehead remains firmly planted against the tile, and he can't resist lightly tapping against it as he chastises himself for giving in to the temptation of masturbating to her.

Certainly it's not uncharted territory for him, yet following the surge of tension between them, he had ceased such indulgences altogether. He hadn't even had the urge to pleasure himself in weeks.

Today, for some reason, was an exception; marked by the persistent stiffness of morning arousal. His thoughts were fixated on her and his willpower was unwavering.

Javier finishes his shower, emerging from the mist and he envelops his lower-half in a towel. With toothbrush in hand, he diligently tends to brushing his teeth when there's an unexpected rap at the door. His brows furrow in mild annoyance, curious as to who was seeking him out on his only day off this week.

He lets the towel fall to the ground in his bedroom and he grabs his jeans, sliding them up his legs and foregoing any underwear. In true Javi style. He zips them up yet the button remains unfastened, a deliberate omission.

As he lazily holds his toothbrush in his mouth, he strides towards the front door. The door yields to his touch, his initial annoyance gives way to a self-assured smirk, his expression a subtle blend of amusement and satisfaction.

On the weathered porch of his modest trailer, Javier is greeted by Paloma, looking gorgeous as always in a enticing sundress that’s short enough to expose her beautiful long legs. Her hair, styled in a playful half-up, half-down look, frames her face like a delicate masterpiece. 

She had hesitated, contemplating turning back when the silence lingered, a creeping doubt whispering that she might have the wrong address. Yet, just as uncertainty began to sway her resolve, Javier emerged, clad in nothing but snug denim, confirming she had indeed arrived precisely where she needed to be.

She couldn't give a damn if he spotted her ogling him, he had opened the door flaunting his half-nakedness so shamelessly. He’s obviously just stepped out of the shower, his locks damp and tousled in all the right places, droplets of water cascading down his glistening, honeyed torso. It is the first time she’s seen him in such a bare state.

Her intuition had been spot on–– he is a chiseled, sculpted masterpiece of a man.

Seeing him in the flesh is making her legs tremble with desire and causing a delightful dampness to form between her thighs.

Only when her gaze traces the tantalizing tuft of hair that begins at his navel and vanishes beneath the fabric of his jeans, does she feel the heat rising within her. The bulge of his cock is unmistakable, and she can't help but gulp audibly as she takes in the impressive girth straining against his left thigh.

Her mouth waters, literally.

" Nena, ¿qué haces aquí? (Baby what are you doing here?) " His voice oozes with smugness, relishing the familiar thrill of eliciting such reactions from women. Yet to provoke such a response from her, in particular, sends his ego soaring to new heights.

“ The library is having a bake sale… ” She starts, eyes still fixated on his crotch before it snaps up to meet his lustful stare. “ I’m goin’ door to door sellin’ my cookies to help out. ” Which is true, yet when she had seen his home address on the list of places to visit–– obviously she’d made sure to stop by here first.

“ Is that so? ” He muses, just now realizing that she’s got a small container in her hand, “ Do you want to come in? ”

The question hangs between them, both insatiably horny yet dead set on not crossing the sexual threshold of their friendship.

“ Sure. ”

With a gentlemanly gesture, he moves aside, granting her entrance. She mutters a soft thank you, gripping onto the container in her hand to keep herself together.

The aroma of his body wash, infused with hints of mint from the fresh toothpaste, envelops her senses; a potent concoction that she finds herself inexplicably drawn to.

While she's always appreciated the fragrance of a good cologne, the impact of Javier's scent surpasses any previous encounter, leaving her captivated in a way she’s never experienced before.

“ Gonna finish gettin’ ready. Be right back. ” He tells her plainly, walking off into his room and this allows her to have a second to breathe, steadying herself on the back of his couch as she gives herself a little pep talk before she hears him coming in again.

“ Santa María por favor dame the strength not to fu–– sleep this man. ” She whispers in a sacrilegious prayer, straightening her posture when he re-emerges.

“ So… you baked? ”

Javi’s sporting an old DEA t-shirt, the lettering a bit faded due to time along with those cursed tight jeans. He looks so hot, she begins to wonder if not fucking him is even worth it at all.

It is worth it. You have a date coming up with a guy your age and getting involved with Javier will just bring you more problems than peace. Plus, you like being his friend. Sleeping with him will only fuck that up. Her conscience reminds her, following after him as he leads her deeper into the small home.

“ Mhm, stayed up all night putting blood, sweat and tears into these. There’s a point in between batches where I blacked out and fell asleep at the counter so I don’t claim the ones that are slightly burnt. I didn’t have the heart to toss ‘em. ”

“ Not only are these made out of blood, sweat and tears–– but they’re burnt too. Huh... ”

Now in his kitchen, the confined space amplifies their proximity. She perches on a stool beside the compact counter, her gaze fixed on him as he unlids the container.

His eyes flicker between her and the tempting contents of her baked goods. “ Some bake sale you’re putting on. ”

His teasing has her playfully rolling her eyes, “ Not all of them. Just some of the oatmeal raisin ones. ”

“ Good riddance. ”

“ I think you purposefully hate on all the snacks I enjoy. ”

“ No, querida , you just have shitty taste in snacks. ” Javi remarks, tempted to include a jab about her taste in men as well, yet opting to withhold that comment. For now.

“ And you have shitty taste in decorations. Jeez , cowboy, are you even a real person? ” She quips, critiquing the lack of character in his living space. It resembles a generic model home, seemingly plucked from a showcase and deposited in the midst of nowhere.

“ Sometimes I ask myself that same question. ” He shrugs, reaching for one of the more inviting looking desserts but she slaps at his hand.

“ You have to pay for them first. ”

“ How much for the whole damn thing? ” Leaning in on his elbows, he meets her halfway, their gazes locked in a silent exchange, each peering into the depths of the other's brown eyes.

With a subtle narrowing of her own gaze, she communicates a silent message, her expression betraying a hint of playful challenge.

She gives him the price, he nods.

“ Let me go get my wallet. ” As he turns away and strides into the living room, her gaze remains fixed on him, engrossed by the way his shirt hugs his muscular frame and accentuates every ripple of his back. She can't help but feel a flutter in her chest as she watches him go.

She lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling as if she’s fawning over a celebrity heartthrob.

Paloma looks around the plain space, a little disappointed that she won’t be able to decipher his character based on the decor he had.

When he returns, she can’t help but ask why it’s so empty. 

“ ‘Cause I don’t plan on bein’ here long enough to call this place home. ” Javier responds, his words carrying a straightforward, pragmatic tone. Yet, despite their simplicity, they strike her with unexpected force, shattering the illusion she has harbored.

Why did she assume he would just… stay? Surely after helping her father out as much as he could, he’d be packing up and moving on to his next assignment.

The weight of reality tightens its grip around her heart, yet she maintains a composed facade, her outward demeanor a mask of serenity as she nods in understanding.

“ Right, right. Makes sense… how long do you plan on stickin’ around? ” She attempts to pose her question with an air of nonchalance, though beneath the facade, a creeping sense of dread begins to take hold as she awaits his response.

He doesn't offer it immediately, sensing the subtle change in her demeanor, prompting him to pause and consider his words carefully. “ Not sure, hermosa . ” It remains simple and nebulous, as he too finds himself uncertain of the answer to that very question.

In an attempt to change the subject, he slides the money over to her, “ Now can I have one? ”

She exhales slowly, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, offering him a tentative smile, “ Knock yourself out. ”

She takes the bills from him while he casually selects one of the cookies, indulging in a bite and emitting a contented hum of approval at the flavor. " Not bad, " He remarks succinctly, and she can't help but feel a pang of disappointment at his underwhelming critique.

“ Really? That’s all I get? ‘Not bad’? I stayed up all night making these–– I think I deserve more than just ‘Not bad’. ”

A chuckle escapes him at her reaction, finding her response utterly adorable. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he takes another deliberate bite of the cookie, adopting a thoughtful expression as if pondering its flavor with exaggerated seriousness. “ The flavor profile is so… decadent. The richness of the chocolate is just superb––– ”

“ Okay, well, if you’re going to be an asshole about it then never mind. ” She crosses her arms against her chest with mock indignation, though a playful glint dances in her eyes; amused by their banter.

He shakes his head at her, finishing off the treat with a satisfied smirk.

“ It was very delicious, muñeca . Is there anything you’re not good at? ” Javier asks, genuine admiration coloring his words since she seems to excel at any task that’s presented to her.

With a snort, she retorts, “ Yeah, how much time do you have? ” Her mind swirls with a litany of frustrations—her failed attempts at nurturing a fucking vegetable garden, the relentless battle to suppress her feelings for him, her inability to stand up to her father.

The list goes on and on, but she keeps her struggles to herself. The version of herself that lives in Javier’s mind, the one that’s perfect and can do no wrong, one she’d like to preserve as long as possible. Especially since he wasn’t planning on residing in Seminary long-term.

Javier chuckles in response, letting his gaze soften, “ You're too tough on yourself, Paloma. You should give yourself more credit." She can't help but feel a hint of bashfulness creeping over her as he says this, twirling a tendril of her hair around her manicured fingertip absentmindedly, her gaze fixed on Javier with a mixture of amusement and affection.

Their playful conversation weaves through the air like a melody, punctuated by laughter and laced with a subtle undercurrent of flirtation, creating an atmosphere that feels as light and comforting as a summer breeze.

“ Ever held a gun before? ” He asks, noticing how her gaze had trailed over to where his pistol and badge sat on the opposite side of the counter. 

Paloma’s eyes had only lingered on the objects because she remembered how sexy he’d looked last Sunday while apprehending Mr. Thorton.

She has to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together to release some of the pressure of her arousal as she recalls it. Her lack of underwear having some of her wetness smear against her inner thighs.

At his question, though, a very mischievous idea suddenly pops into her head.

“ Nope. Daddy has always been paranoid about all that. ” It's a lie that slips effortlessly from her lips, despite the fact that her father had been very serious about gun safety and had taught her how to shoot at a young age. In fact, she's quite capable of disassembling, cleaning, and reassembling a weapon with precision.

But Javier doesn’t need to know this. Not yet, at least.

“ Then I guess I shouldn’t offer to teach you a thing or two. ”

Paloma snorts, “ Oh c’mon. I’m a grown woman livin’ in an open carry state. I should learn how to use one… all things considered too… ” She alludes to the homicide cases and the current missing girl.

Javier wets his lower lip, contemplating his next move. She makes a good point, it wouldn’t hurt for her to know her way around the weapon and he’s surprised that her father hasn’t at least given her a few pointers with how paranoid he is that something is going to happen to her. 

Still, he doesn’t want to overstep the elder man… but really, he’s already overstepped when he came all over his hand earlier while thinking of fucking the sherrif’s daughter.

She's also proactively requesting for him to teach her, showing her own determination and initiative in the matter.

“ Fine. I’ll meet you in the backyard. ” He acquiesces, pushing himself away from the counter. He snags one more cookie from the container before disappearing down the hallway.

Her eyes sparkle with excitement as his agreement sinks in, eager to see his reaction when she unveils her little secret to him. She springs off the stool, sliding open the glass door leading to the backyard. Shielding her face from the intense sunlight, she steps outside, ready to embark on this unexpected adventure with Javier.

From the back porch, Paloma observes him as he arranges an assortment of targets, using miscellaneous items he had gathered from around his home: empty beer bottles, a vase that had long irked him with its presence, and other odds and ends.

Once he finishes, they stand side by side, facing the trunk of his police cruiser, which he had pulled around to park in the backyard. The trunk is open, revealing the duffle bag of firearms issued to every officer. Javier gestures for Paloma to make her selection, his expression a mixture of anticipation and encouragement.

“ Hm, ” Paloma muses, tapping her chin as if in deep contemplation before pointing to the double-barrel shotgun.

Javier is slightly taken aback by her choice, but he swiftly retrieves the shotgun from the bag, along with a handful of shells. " This one's pretty heavy. Sure you can handle it, palomita ? " he asks, a condescending tone lacing his words.

“ Trust me, I can handle it. ” Paloma responds confidently, her tone carrying a subtle salacious edge. With a sweet smile directed at Javier, she turns and strides confidently towards the shooting area he had prepared.

Javier stills, muttering how fucked he is before following after her.

“ The kickback is stronger with these. You’ll need to get used to the weight and recoil. ”

His movements with the gun are graceful and assured. Her breath hitches as she watches in awe, her lips parting slightly as she bites down on the plump flesh, trying to contain the moan that threatens to escape.

Javier’s hands look massive as they wrap around the gun, and she can't help but imagine those same hands wrapped around her body, exploring every inch with the same precision and mastery. The way he breaks the shotgun open and loads the shells, his fingers flexing and tensing with each movement has heat rising within her, aching for his touch. 

It's not just the scorching southern temperature that has her feeling hot all over, but the raw, primal desire that he ignites within her with just a simple gesture.

He possesses an effortless confidence that Paloma finds undeniably alluring. As he adjusts his aviator sunglasses and gestures towards the items scattered across the horizon, his gravelly voice resonates with authority and charm.

“ Take a deep breath in, then slowly exhale. Point at the target, squeeze the trigger and shoot. Remember, the kickback can be pretty intense so brace yourself for that. ”

He looks so handsome following his own instructions, easily shooting down that hideous vase and a beer bottle, causing them to shatter in pieces. The shots echoes out into the vast area, a few birds flying by.

Javier looks over at her, reloading the shotgun before handing it to her carefully, the safety switched on. “ Your turn, nena . ”

Paloma, with her piercing gaze and a mischievous smile playing on her lips, feigns innocence as she takes the gun from him. Though she is well-versed in handling firearms, she willingly allows Javier to guide her, relishing the opportunity to draw closer to him under the guise of naivety. With each word he speaks, she feels a magnetic pull towards him.

She purposefully handles it oddly which has him pressing flush against her back as he guides her hands into the right position. It takes everything in her not to lean back against him, the breeze that passes by paired with his proximity sends a shiver down her spine, the scent of gunpowder mingling with his rugged masculinity and cologne has her damn near whimpering; but she’s able to suppress the noise before it slips up her throat.

“ Remember: Aim, squeeze and shoot. ” He nudges her leg apart slightly with his knee, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly at the gesture, “ And keep yourself grounded. You’re not stupid, so handle this thing carefully. Don’t want you blowing off half of that pretty face. ” 

He takes a few steps back, partially to watch her shoot but also because he felt his cock hardening when he pressed himself against her. Feeling the softness of her ass against his crotch was derailing, and it didn’t help that the flimsy fabric of her sundress is thin so he could feel that she wasn’t wearing any fucking panties. He digs into his back pocket to retrieve his pack of smokes, in desperate need of one.

Under Javier's watchful eye, Paloma raises the shotgun, feeling the weight of it in her hands as she aims at the first target. She switches the safety off, following his instructions (ones she was already aware of) and she keeps the act up, studying the items before her.

After a few moments of doing nothing, Javier speaks up.

“ Are you just going to stand there or are you going to shoot? ”

His words spur her into action, a determined glint in her eyes as she readies herself to take aim at the remaining bottles.

But just as she is about to pull the trigger, a sudden flurry of birds burst into the sky, their wings slicing through the air with graceful precision. A smirk dances upon her lips as she swiftly adjusts her stance, the shotgun now pointed skyward with a fluid motion that bespoke her expertise.

In a seamless display of skill and confidence, she tracks the path of the birds with unwavering focus, her finger poised on the trigger. With a steady breath, she squeezes it, unleashing a resounding crack then another that echo across the open expanse. Two birds plummet from the sky in a graceful arc, their feathers ruffling in the wind as they spiraled towards the earth.

Javier watches in awe, unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips, his admiration for her prowess evident in the curve of his growing smile. In that moment, he can’t help but feel a newfound sense of admiration for her.

She wasn’t eager to learn; she was already a master of the craft.

And as she lowers the shotgun, her eyes sparkling with triumph, Javier knows that he has found a kindred spirit in this enamoring woman named Paloma.

He realizes he’s been played a fool, yet his amusement outweighs any sense of annoyance. There is something oddly endearing about the way she had outsmarted him, a playful gleam in her eye that he can’t help but admire.

Her laughter rings out like music in the warm morning air.

" Beginner's luck, huh? " He says as she beams back at him, pride evident in every line of her expression.

“ Daddy’s been on the force since before I was born. ”  She explains, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “ ‘Course he taught me, his only child, how to shoot. ” Turning to face him fully, she deftly flicks the safety on the firearm before extending it back to him with practiced ease.

“And we used to go duck huntin’ all the time, ” She continues, her words carrying the weight of memories shared with her father. “ S’how I got good at shootin’ moving targets. You ever been? ” Her question hangs in the air, accompanied by a curious tilt of her head.

Javier feels a sense of déjà vu wash over him at her words, a fleeting flashback to that day outside La Catedral with Steve playing out in his mind vividly.

No I have not been duck hunting…. You… fucking hillbilly.

He won’t call her that, though.

“ Nope, never been. ”

“ We should go one day. Y’know, if you stick around long enough. ”

Javier senses that their earlier conversation about his impending departure from town did not sit well with her. A small, narcissistic part of him takes pleasure in the knowledge that she will miss him when he eventually leaves.

Their flirtatious banter fills the air like the crack of gunfire, each moment building upon the next as they continue to spend the rest of the morning in each other’s company–– shooting at empty beer bottles to pass the time. With each shot fired and each shared smile, the connection between Javier and Paloma deepens, their playful teasing masking a burgeoning attraction that neither could deny. 

As the sun reaches its high point, harshly casting its rays across the landscape, they find themselves lost in each other, the shotgun forgotten as they head inside to escape the merciless Seminary summer heat.

“ Why do you keep your gun against your lower back? ” Paloma asks, sitting on top of the kitchen counter as Javier pours both of them a glass of water.

“ Outta habit. Feels more comfortable and secure back there. ” He hands her the glass and she thanks him softly, taking a large gulp.

He finds himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, his own glass held lightly in his hand as he observes her. She tilts her head back ever so slightly, the sun-kissed sheen of sweat adding a ravishing glow to her skin after spending all morning outside.

As Javier's gaze falls upon Paloma's exposed forearms, his heart sinks at the sight of the bruises marring her delicate skin. The memory of the chaotic scene at the church floods back—the ramblings of Mr. Thorton, consumed by grief and intoxicated by sorrow, as he roughly seized Paloma in his anguish. The bruises now serve as a reminder of that harrowing encounter, igniting a protectiveness within Javier.

“ I didn’t know he’d grabbed onto you so harshly. ” While Javi is sympathetic towards the drunken man considering the unfortunate circumstances–– he shouldn’t have put his hands on her the way that he did.

Paloma's fingers drift absently towards the bruised area, her movements gentle as she brushes over it, her shoulders lifting in a subtle shrug. “ It's nothin’ compared to what they’re going through, ” She murmurs softly, her voice trailing off with a tinge of melancholy. The memory of the man's shattered demeanor weighs on her, reminding her of the profound sadness that had consumed him that day.

Despite the drunken ramblings, the accusatory tone, and the way he laid blame on the entire town for failing his daughter; Paloma didn’t harbor any resentment towards Mr. Thorton for his outburst.

While she acknowledges that aggressively approaching her was not the wisest choice, she understands that it was a momentary lapse fueled by grief and alcohol.

Her father had sternly lectured her when she revealed her lack of animosity towards Mr. Thorton and her willingness to forgive him despite his lack of apology. Romeo had been infuriated by his daughter's empathy, unable to comprehend her capacity for forgiveness in the face of such an incident.

“ Still, he was out of line for even–– ”

“ He was drunk out of his mind, Javier. His daughter was brutally murdered and mutilated. Do you all just expect him and his wife to snap back to normal after a few weeks? ” Paloma's words carry an edge, her tone unintentionally sharp, but Javier can see the underlying pain in her eyes.

He softens, reeling as he realizes she's not aiming her frustration at him specifically. His own demeanor relaxes slightly, his gaze reflecting understanding rather than irritation as he silently reassures her that he had no intention of pissing her off.

“ A death like that breaks families. It’s happening to the Thortons right before our very eyes.”  She reflects after a pause, briefly considering the idea of confiding in Javier about her own experiences with loss, particularly concerning her mother.

She recalls the turbulent times following her mother's death, the strain it placed on her relationship with her father, and the wounds it left in their family dynamic.

Fortunately, Romeo had managed to pull himself (somewhat) together before things escalated too far between them.

However, discussing her mother remains a sensitive topic, one that Paloma avoids whenever possible. Her suicide was a painful and perplexing event, leaving Paloma grappling with unanswered questions and a sense of profound loss.

As a confused and grief-stricken teenager, she had immersed herself in psychology texts, searching for understanding and consolation on the topic of depression and suicide, but finding nothing that truly resonated with her mother's peculiar situation. 

She blinks, dispelling her thoughts, realizing she has no intention of burdening Javier—or anyone else, for that matter—with her baggage. The memory of her last attempt to confide in someone, the priest at church, surfaces, and she suppresses a sigh of frustration. His well-meaning yet ultimately dismissive response, a canned platitude about finding solace in God, had left her feeling even more isolated in her grief.

It honestly pissed her off.

“ That’s just how it is sometimes, querida . A shitty fucking side effect to the whole thing. We can’t do anything about it. ”

There's a depth to her that she keeps carefully hidden, yet Javier can discern it with ease. It manifests in the subtle shifts of her body language, the fleeting emptiness that briefly clouds her gaze, and the sudden defensiveness she displayed when discussing the situation.

Despite her attempts to conceal it, her words are laced with emotion, carrying a weight of sentiment and understanding that hints at the complexities lurking beneath the surface.

There's a story hidden behind that guarded stare, waiting to be unveiled.

He won’t grant himself the selfish desire to be the one to unveil it. He doesn't feel worthy of being the person Paloma entrusts with her deepest vulnerabilities, believing he doesn't deserve such intimacy from her.

Javier's pragmatic nature is deeply ingrained, a fundamental aspect of his character that permeates every aspect of his life. It's a quality that serves him well in his profession, enabling him to approach his duties with efficiency and precision.

Yet, this same pragmatism often proves to be a barrier when it comes to offering comfort to others. He struggles to connect on an emotional level, his rational mind grappling with the intricacy of human emotions in a way that feels foreign to him.

While he excels in navigating practicalities, he finds himself struggling when faced with the nuances of empathy and compassion.

It's not that Javier is devoid of either emotions; rather, he has a hard time navigating them. He possesses a depth of feeling, but lacks the finesse in managing and expressing them.

A contemplative silence settles between them, each absorbed in their own internal musings.

She feels his stare but she doesn’t waver, instead changing the subject,“ I’m sure you’ve heard about Jonah Abbott’s birthday party? ” 

Ah, Jonah Abbott, the remarkably young Mayor of Seminary, Texas. Descending from a lineage steeped in politics and law, his ascension to office undoubtedly owes much to familial connections and the influence of nepotism.

Javier's disdain for him is palpable, despite only encountering the man once. Jonah had stormed into the station, insisting that everyone attend his birthday celebration. His subsequent demand for case updates and entitled behavior when things didn't align with his expectations had left a sour taste in Javier's mouth, solidifying his opinion of him as nothing more than an insufferable individual.

Javi had intended to skip out on the party altogether, but after Romeo practically demanded his presence there, he quickly realized that dodging the event was simply not an option.

“ Unfortunately I have, ” He says sardonically, finishing off his water, “ Though I’d rather be anywhere else. Big parties have never been my thing, especially when the night is centered on schmoozing with asshole politicians. ”

“ Asshole politicians…. ” She smirks at him, “ So you’ve met him? He’s… a piece of work. I have no idea why or how daddy tolerates him. ”

Paloma doesn’t mention the many advances the man has made on her and how she’s had to politely decline him each time. He wasn’t unattractive, he held some kind of Kennedy -esque handsomeness but man was he ignorant and flashy as all hell.

His opulent mansion and foreign cars speak volumes about his personal wealth, yet she can't help but wish he would invest as much in supporting his town as he does in his own pursuits. 

“ I’ve had to deal with men like that too many times over the years. Just when you think they can’t get any worse–– they do. It’s like they outdo themselves. Fuckin’ annoying pricks. They only get worse with age, too. ” 

Javier’s verbal outpouring inadvertently provides Paloma with an opportunity—a chance to delve deeper into his past experiences, particularly his days with the DEA. Sensing an opening, she seizes the moment to probe for insights into his former life, hoping to gain a better understanding of the man behind the badge.

“ Who’s the worst one you’ve met? ”

The first name that pops into his mind is Bill Stechner. “ CIA asshole back in Colombia. But you could really trade in any fucker from either government and it’d all be one in the same. They’re all contenders for worst human beings on the fuckin’ planet. ”

Her brows raise in interest, “ It still amazes me how you’ve literally worked such an important and uppity job. How the fuck did you end up here, cowboy? ” It’s a rhetorical question but it still has him sucking in a breath.

As always, Paloma's keen observance doesn't go unnoticed. The spark of curiosity ignites within her, kindling a desire to unravel the layers of Javier's enigmatic persona. Yet, she exercises caution, mindful not to overstep boundaries or pry too deeply into his guarded past.

She knows all too well the delicate balance of trust and respect required when navigating the complexities of Javier's demeanor. So, she tucks away her curiosity, content to wait for the right moment to learn more about him.

She sets down her empty glass, hopping off the counter and smoothing her dress down. “ I guess I should get outta your hair and head back into town. I had a lotta fun this mornin’. Thank you for supportin’ the library… and for teachin’ me how to shoot. ” She remarks playfully with a wink as he walks her to the door.

“ Well, you were a very easy student. A natural. ” 

Leaning casually against the door frame, Javier's gaze remains fixed on Paloma as she retreats backward towards her car. Despite the distance between them, their eyes never waver, locked in a silent exchange of unspoken sentiments.

“ I’ll see you around. ”

Javier's gaze drifts idly over the scattered papers before him, the weight of boredom evident in the blank stare he casts upon them.

With a heavy sigh, he resigns himself to the monotony of the graveyard shift, flanked by two younger deputies who share his weary disposition. The quaint confines of the department offer little respite from the tedium, with the only source of distraction being a TV cart positioned at the center of the room, broadcasting an old Astros vs. Mets baseball game.

As the flickering images dance across the screen, Javier's mind wanders, yearning for something—anything—to break the dullness of the night.

He’d lost interest in the game fairly quickly, turning his focus to the mound of paperwork that has steadily amassed on his desk over the past few days.

However, even the prospect of tackling the administrative tasks failed to hold his interest for long, leaving him adrift in a sea of ennui.

As he rubs at his tired eyes, preparing to rise and seek respite in a smoke break outside, the shrill ring of the phone slices through the quiet of the room. His movements freeze, instinctively drawn to answer the call that interrupts his escape.

“ Seminary Sheriff's Department. ”

“ Those damn kids are on my property again! ”

Javier has to pull the receiver from his ear slightly as the loud yet croaky voice of Arthur Reynolds reverberates through the line.

The elderly man boasts a lineage that traces back to one of the town's founding families. As a result, he holds vast swathes of land across the area, including a picturesque field of sunflowers that has become a local attraction.

The vibrant blooms draw the attention of passersby, who often linger to admire their beauty. However, Reynolds views their presence as an intrusion, and he isn't shy about expressing his discontent.

Constantly vigilant, he frequently calls upon the authorities to address the perceived trespassers. Due to his advanced age rendering him incapable of intimidating others into compliance, it falls upon individuals like Javier to enforce Reynolds' will, ensuring that his domain remains undisturbed.

“ Can you be a little more specific, sir. ” Javi says in a monotone voice

“ How specific I gotta be? S’a group of them drinkin’ and smokin’ around a campfire. Gonna light my goddamn field ablaze. You besta come shut it down and arrest these punks before I go down there myself and cause a ruckus. ”

That’s the last thing Javier needs, for the town to burn down on his watch. He begrudgingly acknowledges the validity of the old man's complaints, recognizing that there is merit to Reynolds' concerns for once.

“ No need for that, an officer will be there soon. ” As the phone call concludes, Javier briefly considers dispatching the deputies to handle the situation, viewing it as an opportunity for them to gain some experience.

However, a sense of caution tugs at him, wary of the potential risks involved in sending inexperienced officers into the field late at night. Ultimately, he opts to take matters into his own hands in case anything goes awry.

Donning his department-issued bomber jacket and ensuring his utility belt is fully equipped, Javier swiftly heads for the door. With a sense of purpose, he offers a brief explanation for his departure to the two deputies engrossed in the baseball game before stepping out into the night.

Not much after does Javier find himself navigating the winding dirt path that cuts through the heart of the sunflower field. Towering stalks of golden blooms loom on either side, casting elongated shadows in the dim light of the moon. With a flick of a switch, he illuminates the headlights of the cruiser, their beams slicing through the darkness ahead. The soft glow of a distant bonfire comes into view, beckoning him forward as he makes his way towards the source of the disturbance.

As the piercing lights of the cruiser illuminate the scene, a sense of urgency grips the group of young adults, prompting them to scatter in all directions like startled deer fleeing from a predator.

Amidst the chaos, Paloma lies sprawled on the ground on her back, her gaze fixed upon the expanse of the dark sky overhead, where the full moon casts its radiant glow upon the night.

She’d successfully snuck out of her house and into old man Reynolds’s sunflower field. August assured her they were just eight feet shy of his property line—technically absolving them of any trespassing allegations.

The appeal of an impromptu bonfire, fueled by August's persuasive phone call the night before, proved irresistible to Paloma. It didn't take much convincing to coax her into joining the group, the thrill of rebellion emboldening her for the night that lay ahead.

Paloma found herself indulging in more alcohol than she is accustomed to, her inhibitions loosened by the camaraderie of her friends. Peer pressure led her to experiment further, as she hesitantly joined August, Sloane, and Gabriel in sharing a joint. The unfamiliar sensation of the smoke tickled her throat, triggering a fit of coughing that betrayed her novice status in the realm of cannabis consumption.

“ Easy, little dove. ” August's voice was gentle, his hand tracing soothing circles on Paloma's back as she recovered from her coughing fit. With patience and care, he guided her through the process, demonstrating the proper technique for smoking. His gaze lingered on her lips as she tentatively wrapped them around the filtered tip, his attention a mixture of guidance and something more difficult to discern.

The combined effects of alcohol and weed have Paloma feeling as if she were floating outside of her own body, disconnected from the reality unfolding around her. Time blurred and details became hazy as the evening wore on. Before she knew it, August and a select few had departed, leaving her to her own devices—a directive she barely recalls amidst her altered state.

“ We’ll be back later. You just stay put and enjoy yourself. ”  August's voice echoed in her mind, his words a distant memory as she found herself lost in a swirl of sensations. 

The alcohol infused her with a sense of giddiness and warmth, while the weed enveloped her in a cloud of lightness and euphoria. Lost in the haze of intoxication, she surrendered herself to the whims of the night, allowing the intoxicating cocktail of substances to carry her away on a journey of uninhibited pleasure.

The mention of cops jolt Paloma out of her intoxicated stupor, sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. With a sudden burst of urgency, she propels herself into a seated position, cursing under her breath as she struggles to gain her footing. Every movement feels sluggish and disjointed, as if she were wading through molasses in her attempt to confront whatever impending threat was approaching.

Had her father discovered her absence, realizing she had slipped out into the night and now found herself high as a kite?

Amidst the flurry of activity, someone had hastily extinguished the crackling flames of the bonfire, leaving Paloma disoriented and stumbling in the darkness. With nothing but the ethereal glow of the moonlight to guide her, she found herself left in the eerie stillness of the night as she navigates the shadowy landscape.

Javier steps out of his cruiser, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the darkness as he surveys the deserted scene. The group had scattered like leaves in the wind, leaving him with an empty field and a sinking sense of slight frustration.

With a resigned sigh, he turns to head back to his vehicle, his mind already drifting towards the paperwork awaiting him back at the station.

But then, a faint sound catches his attention—a soft shuffling emanating from the darkness nearby. Instinctively, Javier whirls around, directing the beam of his flashlight towards the source of the noise.

His eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of Paloma, tentatively emerging from the sea of sunflowers with her hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

The sight of her amidst the swaying stalks of golden blooms is both unexpected and strangely enchanting, casting her in an otherworldly glow beneath the moonlit sky.

“ What the hell are you doing out here? ” Javier’s voice cuts through the night, tinged with a mixture of concern and exasperation as he surveys Paloma's unsteady form. His gaze narrows as he takes in her swaying movements, a frown etching across his features. “ Are you drunk? ”

Her relief is palpable at the sight of Javier standing before her, his presence a welcome reprieve from the uncertainty that had gripped her moments earlier. She offers him a sheepish smile, grateful for his familiar face and not that of one of the jackass deputies.

With a sense of trust born from their shared history, she finds reassurance in the belief that Javier will keep their encounter confidential, shielding her from the scrutiny of others at the station and, more importantly, from the prying eyes of her father.

“ Er... just a little,”  She admits with a giggle, her hands lowering slowly as she squints against the harsh beam of Javier's flashlight. “ Could you, like, point that thing elsewhere? M'gonna go blind. ” Her words are punctuated by a hiccup, her steps unsteady as she inches closer to him.

As she draws near, Javier catches a distinct scent in the air—the familiar aroma of smoke from the bonfire mixed with something altogether less innocent.

It's a scent he knows all too well from his days as a DEA agent, the unmistakable odor of marijuana lingering on her. With a sinking feeling, he takes in the bloodshot, droopy eyes of the girl before him, a mixture of disappointment and frustration welling within him.

“Are you high, too? ” Javier's voice is tinged with a blend of concern and exasperation. He knows all too well the allure of drugs, having spent years chasing down those who peddled them on the streets. Yet, seeing Paloma caught up in such activities strikes a chord within him, stirring up a complex mix of emotions that he struggles to reconcile.

“ Maybe,” Paloma drawls the word out, her voice laced with a playful edge. “ Why? Are you a narc? Oh, wait... you are. A certified and official narc. ” Her words are punctuated by another bout of giggles and hiccups, the sound grating on Javier's nerves. It's a familiar insult, one that cuts a little too close to home given August had called him the same thing not too long ago.

“ Who were you out here with? ” Javier demands, his frustration evident as he flicks off the flashlight, plunging them into darkness save for the soft glow of the moon overhead and the headlights of his car.

“ Some friends, ” Paloma replies with a careless shrug, her tone nonchalant. “ Come on, officer , why does it matter? We were just having fun… and technically we’re eight feet from the property line so we weren’t trespassing. ”

Some friends. The implication hangs heavy in the air, a not-so-subtle reminder of Paloma's recent association with August and his clique. Javier can feel irritation bubbling up within him, a storm of conflicting emotions that threatens to cloud his judgment as he struggles to maintain his composure in the face of her nonchalant demeanor.

“ Why does it matter? ” He scoffs, “ Public intoxication. Illicit drug use. Disturbance of the public peace or the peace of others. I can keep going. ” Javier's jaw clenches tightly, his words laden with the weight of authority as he lists off a litany of potential charges. Many of them are familiar to him, recurring offenses he's seen time and time again in the files of the company she's recently decided to keep.

Paloma rolls her eyes dismissively, her confidence undeterred by Javier's stern demeanor. “ Oh please. We both know you're not really going to bring me in for any of that. ” she retorts, her voice dripping with a mixture of sarcasm and self-assurance.

The idea of Javier restraining her sends a thrill coursing through her veins. The image of his body pressed against hers, the sensation of the cold metal restraints encircling her wrists—it's all too tantalizing to resist. Yet, even in her intoxicated state, a small voice of reason whispers in the back of her mind, urging her to exercise caution.

A fleeting impulse tugs at her to reach out and touch him, to feel the solid warmth of his chest beneath her fingertips. But a sobering sense of restraint holds her back, the knowledge that such a gesture would only complicate an already precarious situation.

“ I'm not entertaining this. Get in the car, I'm taking you home, ” Javier asserts, his tone firm as he turns away from Paloma, intent on ending the conversation then and there. But before he can take a single step, her hand shoots out to grasp at his elbow, her acrylic nails digging into the fabric of his bomber jacket.

“ Wait, not I can't go home yet. Not like this, ” Paloma pleads, her voice tinged with desperation as she realizes the gravity of her situation. Though she's sobered up somewhat since Javier's arrival, the thought of sneaking back into her house in her current inebriated state fills her with dread.

Javier's gaze flickers down to where she's holding onto him, his expression unreadable as he weighs his options. “ Shoulda thought about that before you came out here and fucked yourself up. ”

Feeling a surge of frustration bubbling up within her, Paloma retracts her grasp, her fists clenching at her sides as she meets Javier's gaze with steely determination. “ Okay, fine. Whatever—I'll just wait for August to come back and he'll take me home, ” she declares, her words laced with defiance.

The mention of August's name sparks an unexpected surge of possessiveness and jealousy within Javier, if he tightens his jaw any further; he might dislocate it. Though he tries to mask his emotions, the tension in his stance betrays his inner turmoil, leaving Paloma to wonder what thoughts are swirling behind his unreadable facade.

“ That’ll be worse for you in the off chance that you get caught. Now get in the car so we can get you some food and sober you up. I’m taking you home. ” Javier asserts, his tone brooking no argument as he gestures towards the passenger seat of the still-running police cruiser.

He watches intently as she hesitates for a moment before reluctantly stomping her way around the car and sliding into the seat beside him.

The ride into town is filled with an uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of static emanating from the police radio as Javier relays updates to the officers back at the station. She sits with her arms crossed defiantly, her body angled away from him as she stares out of the window, lost in her own thoughts.

Pulling into the diner parking lot, Javier instructs her to stay put as he exits the vehicle and disappears inside the restaurant. He quickly places an order for a simple meal, then returns with a takeaway bag in hand, his expression unreadable as he hands it to her through the open window.

Now parked at the further end of the driveway, the silhouette of the Leighton family home looms in the distance.

“ Thanks for the food.. ” Paloma murmurs gratefully as they lean against the closed trunk of the police cruiser, the aroma of the meal enticing her high senses as she quite literally begins to devour its contents.

Javier remains silent, allowing the tension from earlier to gradually dissipate as they stand together in the quiet stillness of the night. The only sounds that fill the air are the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Feeling more like herself now, Paloma greedily slurps the remaining contents of her root beer through the straw before setting it aside. She waits for a moment, studying Javier's side profile before offering an apology.

“ I shouldn't have gotten such an attitude with you back there. You were just doing your job... and if it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I've done anything like this. ” She confesses, her tone tinged with sincerity.

Javier runs his knuckles along his jaw, briefly glancing over at her and meeting her gaze. He can't help but soften at her words, releasing some of the tension that had been coiled within him.

“ Just looking out for you, cariño. You never know what kind of mess you'll get into with a crowd like that, ” he admits, his tone gentle yet firm. 

“A crowd like that? ” She repeats, brows furrowing slightly and feeling a twinge of offense on behalf of August and the others.

“ Let's not be daft, querida . Your friends like trouble––what lost twenty-something-year old doesn't? I'm not trying to piss you off, I'm just being realistic. ”

She just hums in acknowledgement, choosing to focus on the remaining fry in her container to avoid further confrontation.

“ You ever been in love, cowboy? ” Paloma's sudden question feels like a punch in the gut, catching him off guard.

He stumbles over his words, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in conversation. “ I–– sorry, how did we go from that, ” he gestures vaguely to their previous discussion, “ to this? ”

“ By changing the subject. I'm just curious. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, ” she replies nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders as she crumples up her napkin and tosses all her trash into the takeaway bag.

Javier pokes his tongue against his cheek, contemplating her question for a moment before reaching for the cigarettes in the inside pocket of his jacket. What the hell, he’ll indulge her. “ Yes... no... I don't know, ” he finally answers, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag.

“ All of the above? ” Paloma tilts her head, adjusting her denim mini skirt and straightening her cropped camisole.

Javier inhales deeply before continuing. “ Before I left for Colombia, I was set to get married. ”

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she leans in closer, eager for more details. “ What happened? ” she asks, her curiosity palpable as she watches him intently.

The Javier Peña, known for his charismatic ways and romantic escapades, suddenly bound to one woman in the most profound display of commitment. Oh, she's intrigued beyond measure.

“ Couldn’t go through with it. I thought I loved her, Lorraine, but then I realized that I just loved the idea of her. Couldn’t see myself spending the rest of my life at her side so I spared her all the bullshit and drama and just left… ” He cringes slightly, flicking off some ash. “ Left her at the altar the day of the wedding. Drove straight past the chapel and to the airport. Flew to Quantico for training and a few months later I was in Colombia. ”

She listens intently, her heart aching with empathy for the man who stands before her, baring his soul in a rare moment of vulnerability.

Javier's story hangs heavy in the air, each word weighed down by the weight of his past. The ember of his cigarette glows in the darkness, casting shadows across his face as he speaks.

Paloma's mind races with a flood of emotions. She recalls her own brush with heartbreak, the sting of abandonment still fresh in her memory. The parallels between their experiences are both eerie and comforting.

“ So you were her George, ” She murmurs, her voice soft with understanding.

Javier nods, his expression a mix of regret and resignation. "Yeah. I guess. When you told me what you had gone through that night, I felt so bad. I still do. Me and Lorraine have talked things out since. She’s actually married now. Has two kids and a loving husband. He was able to give her all the things I knew I couldn’t. ”

“ It's funny how life works out, ” Paloma muses, her voice carrying a hint of empathy. “ You both found what you needed in the end, I suppose. ”

Javier nods, exhaling a cloud of smoke that dissipates into the night air. “ Yeah, I guess so. ”

They fall into a comfortable silence, the weight of the shared revelations hanging between them. It's moments like these that reveal the depth of their connection, beyond the surface banter and flirtation.

“ And after Lorraine? Was there anyone else you fell for? A lover in Colombia? ”

Her name echoes in his mind like a haunting melody, each syllable laced with memories of their tangled past. Helena . Their relationship had begun as nothing more than a transaction, a simple exchange of information for physical intimacy. But as time passed, their bond deepened, evolving into something he never expected.

Helena had been different from the others, a beacon of light in the darkness of his days in Colombia. She listened to him, truly listened, offering comfort and understanding when the weight of his job threatened to crush him. In her arms, he found refuge from the storm raging within him, a sanctuary where he could lay bare his soul without fear of judgment.

But their idyllic bubble was shattered by the harsh realities of their world. The fallout from the Gacha debacle had left Helena broken and vulnerable, a stark reminder of the dangers they faced every day. Javier wrestles with his feelings for her, torn between his duty and his desire to protect her. Yet, despite his best efforts, he couldn't shield her from the horrors that awaited her.

As he recalls their tumultuous journey together, Javier is plagued by a sense of guilt and regret. He had failed her, failed to keep her safe from the darkness that had consumed the country. And now, her name serves as a painful reminder of his shortcomings, haunting him like a ghost from his past.

“ No. Just a long string of meaningless sex. Didn’t have the time or energy to date anyone. The job was too demanding for it. ”

Paloma reaches out tentatively, resting a hand on Javier's arm. " Well… Thanks for sharing with me. I know how difficult it can be to open up like that, ” She says softly, flashing him a small smile.

He meets her gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “ Of course, hermosa . ”

As she straightens up from leaning against his cruiser, a soft sigh escapes her lips, carrying with it a hint of resignation. “ I think I'm ready to sneak back in now. ”

Javier nods in acknowledgment as he takes a final drag of his cigarette. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he crushes the butt under the sole of his boot. “ Right. We'll keep this night between the two of us, yeah? ”

She responds with a nod, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. She gets back in the car, ready to get into her bed.

Javier starts the engine, the soft purr of the car's motor blending with the nocturnal symphony of crickets and cicadas. As they roll down the driveway, he keeps the lights off, wary of getting caught.

It’s not the first time he’s had to sneak a girl back home.

Just as they near the end of the driveway, she curses softly, a sudden realization dawning upon her. Slapping her palm against her forehead, she lets out an exasperated sigh, prompting Javier to glance at her quizzically.

“ What’s wrong? ”

“ I need the ladder to get back upstairs. The lattice fence broke when I snuck out earlier. ” She completely forgot about the mishap, it had almost woken her father up.

“ Do you need help getting it? ”

“ … Yeah. If you don’t mind. ”

So they sneak around to the backyard, the metallic finish of the elongated ladder gleaming beneath the growing grass that surrounds it. It reminds Paloma that she needs to mow the lawn soon.

As she bends down to grab it, she feels a sudden, unexpected sensation slithering against her leg. Panic rises within her, her muscles tensing in preparation to let out a guttural scream, but before any sound can escape her lips–– a strong hand clamps over her mouth, muffling any noise.

She freezes, heart pounding in her chest, as she glances wide-eyed at Javier.

“ It’s just a garden snake, nena , it’s not going to hurt you. ”

A soft glow then spills from inside the house, casting long shadows across the backyard.

Paloma's heart leaps into her throat, her pulse quickening as she envisions her father stepping out onto the porch, his stern gaze piercing through the darkness.

With a sense of urgency, Javier gently pulls her back into the comforting embrace of the shadows, his touch a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos of their clandestine escapade.

Their bodies press close together as they hold their breath, hoping to remain unseen.

Her lips are still pressed against his palm while the other hand has a firm hold on her hip. His thumb instinctively traces slow, soothing circles against her skin. It fires up every nerve of her body.

After what seems like an eternity, a soft, distant sound of a flush is heard, followed by a click as the light flickers off.

In unison, they both release the tension they had been holding, his hand gently sliding away from her face as she exhales deeply.

Neither of them attempt to move for a split second, and it’s not until she pulls away that he’s brought back down to Earth.

“ Fuck –– that was close. ”

An electric tension crackles between them, infusing every movement with a heady rush of anticipation. Wordlessly, they resume their task, the air thick with desire and apprehension.

Each touch, each shared glance, sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through their veins, teetering on the precipice of control.

It's a delicate dance, their bodies moving in silent harmony, teeming with an unspoken longing that threatens to overflow, begging to be unleashed in the quiet intimacy of the night.

Once Javier is sure that the ladder is steady enough for her to climb, he takes a step back to make room for her.

“ Alright, princesa , up the tower you go. ”

She doesn’t say anything, her gaze remains fixed on him, a silent exchange of emotions passing between them before she begins her ascent up the ladder, her back to him.

She makes it up a few steps before she stops and turns to face him fully.

In a bold move, Paloma reaches out, her fingertips delicately curling around the collar of his jacket. With a gentle tug, she draws him closer, her lips meeting his in a fervent kiss.

Caught off guard, he momentarily freezes, but the warmth of her touch and the intensity of her kiss quickly erases any hesitation. In an instant, they're lost in each other, their lips moving with a fiery urgency, igniting the flame that has been smoldering between them.

Everything else fades away, leaving only the two of them lost in a sea of passion and desire. With each kiss, they explore each other's mouths. Licking, sucking, biting; it’s better than anything either of them could have ever imagined.

She can't help but moan softly into his mouth at the way his hands move over her body. Every caress feels like a promise of pleasure to come, and she surrenders completely to Javier.

His muscles tense as he pulls her closer, his touch becoming more urgent. His fingers trace her curves, lingering on the places that make her gasp with pleasure. She can't help but arch her back, pressing herself even closer to him, desperate for more.

As their bodies meld together, there is sense of completion that they’ve never experienced before. It's as if they were always meant to be together, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

Reluctantly, she pulls back first leaving him yearning for more as he reaches out, chasing after her lips.

Their fervent kisses have left his mouth slightly swollen and lips glistening, adorned with remnants of her saliva, evidence of the passion with which they had indulged in each other.

Her eyes are swimming with lust as she brushes some of his hair to the side, “ I had to, ” she whispers softly, her voice barely above a murmur; filled with affection and sincerity,  “ just once. ”

Her words carry a weight of longing and vulnerability, a confession of the depth of her emotions for him.

“ Buenas noches , Javi. ”

He's so bossy, He makes me dance. Tryna sit in the back of his whip And just cancel my plans. Sweet like candy, But he's such a man. He knows just what it does When he's holding me tight And he calls me "Moonlight" too.

[twinnedpeaks]

ok it’s time for elvira’s yearly reading wrap up! best and worst of 2023:

worst:

the cabin at the end of the world, paul tremblay - disappointing. could have been so good but, alas, was not.

the silent patient, alex michaelides - quite possibly my least favourite of the year. people were telling me how shocking it was and how it had a huge plottwist. this plottwist was predictable from PAGE ONE. please.

the grimoire of grave fates - i remember nothing except being bored.

hide, keirsten white - i hate when horror is bad <3

filth, irvine welsh - okok my second attempt at reading irvine welsh. i liked parts of this book but not enough to even slightly enjoy it as a whole.

finnegans wake, james joyce - i wasn’t sure whether this should go in best or worst honestly. such a huge phenomenon, purely because it’s “unreadable”. i still don’t know how to feel.

best:

12 bytes, jeanette winterson - miss winterson can do no wrong in my eyes. brilliant reflections on technology, written beautifully.

new animal, ella baxter - just SUCH a good time!! great novel on grief and sexuality.

the gilded wolves, roshani chokshi - i’m very picky about my fantasy books, but i fell in love with this trilogy so fast. the characters are incredible and diverse, and finding a canonically autistic character meant a lot to me.

tripping arcadia, kit mayquist - creepy, gorgeous, has not left my mind. i can’t even explain it, it is just an Experience. Go read it.

how to sell a haunted house, grady hendrix - FUN HORROR!! HAUNTED HOUSE!! EVIL PUPPET!!

when we lost our heads, heather o’neill - lesbian marie antoinette historical fiction? yes.

no longer human, osamu dazai - gorgeous tale of existence and misery. loved loved this one.

i who have never known men, jacqueline harpman - heartbreaking and real. one of those books i think everyone should read.

patricia wants to cuddle, samantha allen - lesbians and furry little monsters. weird as fuck and so funny.

penance, eliza clark - reflections on true crime and the rivalries between teenage girls. gruesome and fascinating.

not forever but for now, chuck palahniuk - MY MAN RETURNED!!!! and i am so goddamn grateful. nauseating but stunning. masterpiece as always.

house of hunger, alexis henderson - gothic vampire novel with a touch of haunted house story and eerie lesbians.

sign here, claudia lux - one of the funniest books i’ve read in a LONG time. selling your soul to the devil is basically the same as working for capitalist organizations.

the child thief, gerald brom - HORRIFYING version of peter pan. brom always makes me utterly nauseous and i am ovsessed with him in every way.

the girls, emma cline - 60’s cult vibes, true crime, just a solid piece of literature.

angels before man, rafael nicolas - basically gay bible. 10/10.

silver under nightfall, rin chupeco - poly queer vampires. gritty gore. amazing world building. cannot WAIT for the sequel.

none shall sleep, ellie marney - me? enjoying crime fiction from someone other than karin slaughter or tana french? it IS, apparently, possible.

house of leaves, mark z danielewski - IT IS ABOUT! THE! SYMBOLISM! I WANT TO YELL.

[christmas77bish]

Narnia is truly amazing.

No other series has made me cry so much. No other series has brought me to my knees, made my eyes fly so wide open with joy or surprise. Never has something made me feel such real and raw emotions. No other series has pulled me from earth and dragged me into such a beautiful world. When you say fantasy, I think Narnia. When you talk about running away to a fictional world- I think Narnia. When you say underrated masterpiece? I say Narnia. I truly believe I was never the same after Narnia. Never have I believed in magic as much as when I read or watch Narnia. Never ever ever do I feel so in love with a feeling than when reading or watching Narnia. When I first read Susan and Peter couldn’t go back to Narnia again? I cried. I balled my eyes out, I was brought to my knees and felt such deep despair. When I finished that last line in the last book? A part of me died inside. I never felt so much joy yet so much hurt in my life as how I felt that last chapter.

How? How did he do it? If I could I would ask C.S. Lewis in a heartbeat. Narnia truly embodies my very soul, my every dream and hope and my life. My soul is forever opening that wardrobe, taking those steps inside, and laughing as snowflakes fall on my hair.

Every time I open my closet door I hope to see those beaches, those forests, that lamp post. My heart longing to dance with the nymphs and dryads and fauns, swaying in the wind with the trees and sailing to Doorn.

I want desperately to gaze upon Allan in all his glory and bask in his presence.

But most of all, I wanna try those Turkish delights cause I’ve had Turkish delights and holy shit Edmund are you ok??? Or were those just really fucking delicious??? Were they magic? Why did you ask for those specifically? Like don’t get me wrong I like Turkish delights but not so much to where I’d ask for them from a creepy ass witch?? Anyways.

Tldr: Narnia is wonderful in too many words to describe, Edmund was on something.

I’m not sure who made the art sorry! It’s not mine tho :)

[rapha-reads]

When you're 5 pages in, 1.7k words into, your essay and you're barely, baaaarely reaching the central theme of your work. Hell yeah.

I'm writing an essay on the place of fantasy literature in the global academic literary canon for my Contemporary Literary Canon class, and I'm having fun.

Originally the theme given by the prof was "choose a not very known literary work and argumente why it should be part of the canon", but I am contradictory and my bread and butter is fantasy, fantastic and science fiction, therefore I completely changed the theme WHILE staying inside it.

I picked AN ENTIRE GENRE, started by explaining what fantasy is, and why Tolkien is important and definitely should be in the canon, fuck you Harold Bloom you arrogant pretentious piece of shit, then I'm going to argue why there should be an entire canon devoted solely to fantasy works (because let's be real, it is THE main genre today), and then I'll just. Explaon why the series Ewilan by Pierre Bottero should be an internationally acclaimed literary masterpiece.

The deadline is tonight midnight, it's already 4 in the afternoon and I've just reached the second point. Send luck please.

[storybook-souls]

top ten books i read in 2022

in order of how much i enjoyed them, not necessarily how good they are, although i do stand by them all being good. limited myself to one per series bc i do think otherwise seven out of these ten would be the raven cycle and the locked tomb series. add me on storygraph @strawberrrysky for more book opinions and also bc i desperately want more storygraph friends

(i promise my descriptions get shorter as i go on)

1. The Raven Boys, by Maggie Stiefvater

i somehow missed reading trc when i was a teenager and then avoided it for a while out of a combination of stubbornness and a total misconception of what the books were about. fortunately this year my friends responded to my plea for fantasy books in a modern setting by telling me to just suck it up and read the raven boys already and by the end of chapter 1 i was intrigued, by the end of chapter 7 i was locked the fuck in, by the end of chapter 15 i was like “oh okay this is gonna be my personality for a while.” the prose, the system of magic, the atmosphere, and above all the characters...augh. i love these books and i love the raven boys in particular i think maggie stiefvater REALLY knows how to establish her characters and her world and how to pull a reader in and how to give you that bubbly “it was starting!” feeling right alongside the characters. also the whole last act of this book made me experience brand new emotions. i could go on but i think everyone who hasn’t read these books yet should at least CONSIDER it.

2. Harrow the Ninth, by Tamsyn Muir

it’s CRAZY how good this book (the second in the locked tomb series) is. it’s CRAZY. it shouldn’t work but it absolutely does. the prose, the set-up and payoff, the hiding things in plain sight. there’s NOTHING more satisfying than the way everything clicks together at the end. tamsyn muir said “you ARE going to read this book that’s inexplicably in second person and seems at first to totally disregard the first book in the series and you’re going to love it” and i respect her so much for that. and the CHARACTERS! the PLOT! genuine masterpiece i think it’s one of the smartest-written books i’ve ever read

3. Gravity is the Thing, by Jaclyn Moriarty

i LOVED this book. Jaclyn Moriarty’s prose is so melodic and fun to read--usually when i read a book in three days it means something about the plot really seized me but in this case it was more just how much i was enjoying her style. it manages to balance a sense of whimsy with feeling real and honest, which is exactly what i want from this kind of contemporary fiction. book about connection, book about grief, book about hope, loss, healing, resilience, imagination...when i finished it i cried for half an hour and it felt like my soul had taken a shower

4. Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke

Piranesi had been “at the top of my to-read list” for over a year by the time i finally got to it and i was a bit worried my expectations were going to be too high but oh my GOD was it every bit as good as everyone said. NO one is doing it like this book and I don’t want to tell you much more about it because I think the less you know the better but what a win for slow reveals and satisfying endings.

5. The Book of Eels, by Patrik Svensson

my nonfiction winner for this year. I learned so much about eels and also cried about humanity and family which is always what I’m looking for from a book

6. The Only Good Indians, by Stephen Graham Jones

i have GOT to get into reading more horror this book was so awesome. scary and brilliantly written and atmospheric and didn’t pull its punches even at all.

7. Jurassic Park, by Michael Crichton

one of my few re-reads this year but i LOVE this book, especially the masterful slow build in the first half of it. the horror of a dinosaur eating someone is one thing, the horror of human hubris and dramatic irony is another.

8. The Devourers, by Indra Das

the most visceral book i’ve ever read i think. now THIS is love and consumption! now THIS is a book about telling stories and being human!

9. Artificial Condition, by Martha Wells

The murderbot diaries are like. 80% funny and fast-paced and action packed and then all of a sudden you’ll hit a line or a concept that makes you have to put the book down and take a few laps around the room. Murderbot’s relationship with ART especially made me really feel like I was losing my mind. This is what I like about sci-fi.

10. The Ocean at the End of the Lane, by Neil Gaiman

this book is incredibly well written and i think the horror elements stuck with me more than some of the actual horror books I read this year. just a really gorgeous and atmospheric and dreamlike story that manages to convincingly feel like it’s playing with huge things while still keeping the scope of the story very small. like a whole ocean in a pond, one could say,

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

11. The Queen’s Gambit, by Walter Tevis (can’t help it i’m a sucker for a chess game)

12. Gone Girl, by Gillian Flynn (i think i’d’ve liked it more if i hadn’t already known all the twists but even knowing what was going on it was still fucking awesome)

13. Owls of the Eastern Ice, by Jonathan C. Slaght (i think i learned more from this one than anything else i read this year)

14. The Traitor Baru Cormorant, by Seth Dickinson (no one is doing it like her)

15. Black Cake, by Charmaine Wilkerson (a win for my book club)

[mellifiedman]

Okay, I'm going to for-real take advantage of having unlimited characters again and tell you my very important thoughts on all the media I've consumed in the last month-ish. We're blogging! We love blogging, right?

BOOKS

Priory of the Orange Tree, Samantha Shannon: have you ever wished for a Guy Gavriel Kay novel that was way queerer, but also worse? Boy, have I got the book for you! It's clear that a lot of careful historical research went into this book, which I appreciate, but it doesn't make up for the fact that this book is an incredibly long exercise in writing multiple POVs that all kind of feel like the same boring, namby-pamby character, despite some surface-level angst (except for the scheming gay alchemist, who actually got to have some real moral conflict a few times). It's very clear early on that all of these little dweebs are going to make the most selfless and heroic choices possible at the end of the book, and they spend many hundreds and hundreds of pages riding a rail to just that conclusion. That being said, I can see this author writing an actual fantasy masterpiece in another 10 years, maybe?

The Luminous Dead, Caitlin Starling: this felt less like a real book and more like one of those extremely involved and gritty AU fanfics that people used to write for, like, Death Note. What if this couple you should hopefully already care a LOT about is in, uh...a cave? In space? A space cave? And they hate each other at first, but then they fall in love, and also only one of them is technically in the cave (the stronger one with the weirder hair color, still all according to anime plan [keikaku]). Also, it's psychological. The thing is, I don't actually care about these characters from a pre-existing media property, so I just thought this was an incoherent mess that didn't deliver on pretty much any count. If you want an actually good version of what this book was going for, just read a Patricia Highsmith novel with Alien on in the background or something.

Some Desperate Glory, Emily Tesh: man, this one slapped. You could definitely come up with some cringey booktok-style "what if Ender's Game was ~sapphic~" pitch for this one, but thankfully it's also just a really good, crunchy, humanist sci-fi book. Honestly, my main issue with this one is that I read it so obscenely quickly that I'm not sure I absorbed everything. There are some little flaws I could complain about if I really wanted to, but this book nails what I'm looking for in this contemporary crop of queerer, more diverse, etc etc genre fiction, which is that it's a good fucking book first, and not just an affirmation of my own personal laundry list of moral beliefs (which, hey! It totally is that, too!). Thank you @storywonker for the rec - you're at the top of the genre fiction friendship pile right now! Feel free to look down and grind your heel into the necks of those below you! It's what I would do.

Cradle series, Will Wight: these books are sooooo dumb. I've read ten of them and loved every second. Cradle 4 life!!

[esta-elavaris]

top 5 books of all time?

do you ever mark/dog ear books you own?

most disliked popular books?

what are things you look for in a book?

Top 5 (in no particular order)

The Winternight Trilogy by Katherine Arden (for real if you only ever take one recommendation from me, let it be this one)

Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

LOTR - J.R.R. Tolkien

The Heroin Diaries - Nikki Sixx (this one helped me through a lot as a teen - albeit not heroin addiction - so it's here because of that, not because it's a literary masterpiece, but it's still very good)

The War of Art - Steven Pressfield (another one that isn't a literary masterpiece, but I buy it for every creative I know because it's That Good for helping overcome procrastination/creative dread)

Honourable mention for The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, bc her ability to convey atmosphere and leave you feeling fucked up by the end is unreal.

Marking/dog-earing

I was super against it as a teen but I've gotten over that weird thing of "all of my books must be pristine and appear untouched!!!" unless it's a really pretty, special edition. I still can't bring myself to dog-ear pages or write on them, though - but I do use post-its etc to mark certain things. But these days I mostly read on Kindle bc I just do not have room for more books, so I use the highlight function on that a lot.

Disliked books

I abandoned the You series by Caroline Kepnes halfway through book two this year. The first book was good, although uncomfortable reading, the second book was just...not good at all. It sort of hit the bad combination of resurrecting some things I'd rather forget, as well as just being nowhere near as good as the first. I'm also a Twilight hater through and through even if I can appreciate the meme potential now.

The one I really, really can't deal with is modernist literature in general. I had to take a class for it in uni, and a few books crept in here and there in other modules too, and I just have no time for it. I can appreciate what it did for literature in general as a movement while just despising the individual books. Reading it makes me feel so bored I get nauseous. Just not for me. It did produce a very spirited rant mid-class about my own personal beef with Virginia Woolf when one of my teachers asked me why I didn't like the content, though, which is a fond memory. Hatred for modernism cured my social anxiety for ten minutes what a time to be alive.

Things I look for in a book -

I've been trying to cast a wider net with what I read lately, taking on different reading challenges just to round it all out. I lean towards historical non-fiction, fantasy, and biographies, but I'll honestly read anything (well, except modernism apparently) as long as it's done well. Like if the author is passionate about what they're writing, and that love and passion shines through. It's not so easy to pin down in a specific book (although Katherine Arden does it amazingly in the Winternight trilogy, combining her love for Russian folklore and history with an unparalleled writing ability in general), but it's very obvious when it's not there, and you can tell the author doesn't respect their story as a thing in and of itself, and is just using the story as a lifeless tool to be a patronising shit about x, y, and z.

I've noticed in writing circles that the people who do this are the ones who get very upset when other writers talk about their story/characters having a mind of their own etc.

But overarchingly, I love stories of resilience. Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand, a biography of Louis Zamperini, was phenomenal that way, but I'll probably never read it again because it was just so grim and such a difficult read. I just realised that's actually an overarching theme of all five books I recommended at the start of this dissertation. Can't Hurt Me by David Goggins is also my fuckin bible in that regard, because resilience is his whole existence.

Thank you!! 💜

[gunkreads]

I think I’m actually going to be quite brief (future gunk here: “so that was a fucking lie”) about Seven Blades in Black by Sam Sykes, given how much I enjoyed it. Putting my critique goggles on is revealing it to be more derivative and flawed than I felt while reading.

This book is one of those “bear with me” kinds of stories. It presents a very over-the-top, indulgent, hamfisted approach to what is, in my opinion, fundamentally a very simple story. It’s an American Western revenge story with a pretty solid magical world laid over it. If you’ve ever seen The Outlaw Josey Wales--it’s genuinely kinda like that. However, as I’ll explain in about three paragraphs, this isn’t exclusively criticism.

The author has a bit of fun with the whole format of “protagonist telling a character a story in-universe” and plays very simply with unreliable narration (”simply” meaning it’s easy to tell when something’s narrated unreliably and the factual truth is pretty apparent). I feel kind of mean making this comparison, but it’s an all-around clumsier and less-artful version of Patrick Rothfuss’ style. That’s not necessarily to say it’s clumsy--though you may find it to be--but the book is... not the most elegant thing I’ve ever read.

Its setting is very fun--basically, the protagonist Sal is fucking around in the “no-man’s-land” area of this big war going on between a corrupted and rotting Empire and a fascist Revolution. Not exactly the newest thing on the block, and the reasons for the war aren’t necessarily that original either. There are some extra layers to it, but those would have to come up in later books, if at all.

Sal as a character is very fun to read, and there’s a particular phenomenon in the book’s prose that makes her that way. See, there’s this piece of writing advice that sticks in my brain like a shard of glass that goes something like “not every line has to be a masterpiece, or an emotional revelation, or a dust jacket quotable.” Personally, I don’t like this mindset, because I believe that striving for an impossible standard is the only way to find out how far Zeno’s Paradox goes when chasing perfection. Sykes doesn’t seem to like it either; his book is written like every single paragraph is supposed to make you have a physical reaction. It doesn’t land every time--in fact, early in the book, it’s so annoying that I almost put it down--but eventually you come to a realization: it’s fun to watch someone try to reach for the impossible.

Sykes really, really wants everything Sal says and thinks to be a tooth-cracking showstopper. In chasing this ideal, he necessarily misses most of the time. However, he chases the idea with a kind of earnestness that I rarely see in fantasy. I actually think that Sykes does “gruff antihero” the same way Sara Douglass does “highfalutin paragon of justice” or Tolkien does “unbreakable brotherly bonds”: with an absolute commitment to and love for the concept that allows you (or at least me) to forgive any misses (this is not commentary on whether Douglass or Tolkien miss on these).

I found myself cringing at this book pretty frequently up to about the end of the first act. It took a while to get a handle on how far Sykes was going to take this writing style. After that point, though, it grew on me enough that I realized he did the same thing that Pierce Brown does that I love so much: they create a world where People Just Talk Like That.

See, there’s this magical thing in fiction called “internal consistency”. If something does not align with reality, but aligns with a work of fiction the same way every time, it becomes real within that fiction. This is why “acting out of character” and “plot holes” are such an issue: they dive in the way of our suspension of disbelief. Internal consistency creates and aids suspension of disbelief. Have you ever heard a white guy from Seatlle say “y’all”? It’s the fictional equivalent of that. He doesn’t fucking talk that way. Why’s he doing it now? Sykes has People Just Talk Like That 24/7/365 and it lets you suspend your disbelief in a way that you couldn’t if he just doled out the hard-hitting lines once in a while. Keeps congruity in the prose.

Once again, this isn’t to say Sykes is consistently good at it. He goes overboard a lot, asking me to find gravity in things that are decidedly low-gravity or asking me to laugh or cry over things that I didn’t already want to. However, the through-line of over-the-top narration works.

Wanna know why it works? Because Sal, who’s constantly shown to be a dickhead with her entire skull shoved up her own ass (love those kinds of characters btw), is narrating. Of course this egotistical asshat wants you to think everything she does is the coolest thing ever. She’s even telling the story to someone who’s going to execute her--there’s no reason to put the brakes on. Of course, this is all a choice made by Sykes, so everything leads back to that, but it’s there in-universe.

The action in this book is fun. It’s not amazing in a kinetic way, but it has pretty stellar setpieces and never feels pointless. Sal navigates violence and chaos in a very entertainingly Nathan Drake kind of way--taking her licks in a mad dash to either safety or whatever she came here to do. The action tends to be of a very physical variety, with plenty of gory details and a solid dash of body horror mixed in.

However, here’s a pretty chunky issue with Sal’s character: her motivations do not feel consistent. I get that this is meant to reflect her complicated feelings about her current life path, but there were a lot of points where I didn’t understand why she took the hard path when the easy one seemed so obvious (and often had been pointed out by her). It felt like sometimes she took the hard path for one reason, but later she took the easy path for that exact same reason. The context had changed, sure, but it didn’t change that much. Just something to watch out for.

BUT ALL THAT SAID.

I had a really good time reading this book. If you like anything gritty and grimy and bombastic and dark and fun, I think you’ll enjoy Seven Blades in Black. It’s brain candy, for sure, and it’s a little more on top of that. It’s got all the same things right with it as Kings of the Wyld, just with a few more things wrong. A very fun choice and a good book to slap up on your in-progress pile while taking breaks from more serious reads.

[hollylynwalrath]

I’m sick with Covid (it finally got me, the little green bastard), so I watched my favorite cozy sick movie last night, The Princess Bride. Still stunned by its meta storytelling. What’s so great about this movie is hard to explain. Cary Elwes is charming and romantic. Robin Weight is gorgeous. But I think what I love is how … 90s it feels. The film is grainy and dark, but that works. Pretty sure they filmed the forest scene in the same set as The Neverending Story.

My spouse likes to watch movies where I’ve read the book and ask me “what’s that like in the book?” This is one of those movies where the book is nothing like the movie AND THATS THE POINT. Just a fucking excellent film.

The Princess Bride as a movie is just a fun fluff fantasy movie. The book is a masterpiece of modernism. It makes you think it’s telling the story of a real book (by S. Morgen stern) but it’s all a sham. The wizard behind the curtains. That is truly like found footage but in fiction form. I adore things that trick the reader, but do so with love and affection.

[berryunho]

hiii I love love The Answer 😭 it’s so fun to read I literally cannot wait to see what happens next. I was wondering, what inspired you to write this story? was there any specific stories/cults that you’ve heard of that you took inspiration from? I love thriller stories so muchdkfk so I’m just so happy to have found your blog!! also do you usually read thriller or do you prefer reading other genres? tysm for sharing your work you’re so talented!!!❤️❤️❤️

omg hi!! first of all thank you so much for reading hehe i'm really glad to hear that you're enjoying it!! and aaaaaaa thank you for the questions omg this might get kinda long (edit from future lauren: yeah it did so im adding a read more lol) but im excited hehe

sooo to answer the first question of what inspired me hehe it was definitely a mix of a few things!! biggest inspiration was me reading mists of celeste and being like "what the fuck. can i do that?" bc ... im sure you've all read it and yk what i mean LMAO its just so good and i wanted to know if i could write something as impactful hehe i had already been a writer but i had never shared my writing or tried to write a longfic so it was a big challenge to start and im so happy i did!!

and soooo after i decided i wanted to write my own fic i figured some things out like i definitely wanted to do an au and i pretty quickly decided that i wanted hongjoong to be an antagonist so i started pondering what situations make Bad People into People Of Power and ... the cult idea plopped nicely into my brain and then everything started falling into place after that hehehe

and YES there are specific cults ALKJFKDJFDK the way im majorly freaking out getting to talk about this thank you again for asking omg anyways. scientologists (so sorry if any of you are scientologists but fr...) heaven's gate. branch davidians (mullet hj is canon in the answer for 1 reason and 1 reason only. david koresh’s mullet.) and like ofc the manson family and the people’s temple (though more so just jim jones himself idk that whole 900 people thing… not intimate enough for the vibe i was going for) and honestly the characterization of hongjoong is derivative of a few irl people too LKFJSDFKLJSD like im not gonna name names bc then yall would be like “oh god …” and judge yourselves so ill save you the torment lol but you could Probably Guess

and yes!! i definitely mostly read thriller/horror novels hehe but i also really love fantasy & sci-fi & lately historical fiction ?? and my favorite book ever is none of those genres hehe i would love any and all recommendations for any of these genres!! i know you didn’t ask this one but im gonna give some book recs anyhow hehehe so my Favorite Book Ever — the secret history by donna tartt … literally in love w this book. the amount of times ive pondered an au…… shhhh my Second Favorite Book Ever — the long walk by stephen king. idk what to say other than literary masterpiece. (its actually super weird but the characters … ugh chefs kiss) the Scariest Book Ive Ever Read — gerald’s game by stephen king. there were just moments of tension that were so perfectly written that it was almost unbearable like wtf not to be that person but like fr i dont get scared by books or movies or documentaries or anything but … yeah this was something an Interesting Series — the southern reach trilogy by jeff vandermeer !! crazy world building very intriguing books a Fantasy Novel — the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon … yes i know booktok book but it was really good okay a Historical Fiction — circe by madeline miller !!!! bawled but it was really good !!! annnnd a Sci-Fi — project hail mary by andy weir ... glakdjfkasj me feeling emotions over a rock alien ... anyways

… SO YEAH AKDJFASDKFJ; THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THE ANSWER AND FOR ASKING ME QUESTIONS AAAA i hope i provided some good commentary lol idk hehehe tysm ily <3

[homesweetgoodneighbor]

I never thought I'd say this, but I am completely and utterly out of the loop when it comes to movies. After the pandemic started (it isn't over no matter how much y'all want to lie to yourselves), I had no desire to ever return to the theater. That's just too much closeness to people who have zero concern for other people's health. Plus, I got tired of assholes refusing to put down their fucking cell phones for a couple of hours. We are instead making our own small home theater. It's slow going since we have to buy a piece at a time, but hey, it'll be worth it. (Might take a couple of years, but it'll still be cheaper than fucking movie tickets these days.)

Now, here we are 4 years later and I honestly couldn't tell you what's out at theaters, who the latest and greatest actors are, nor what is even in the works. The passion for anything new has gone out of me.

I find myself hiding in my old classic horror films (silents or talkies), period "costume" dramas that really aren't newer than the 90s, fantasies that never lose their magic, and science fiction that ranges from classic Kaijus to flying saucers to more recent masterpieces that were never sullied by the Mouse.

While there are thousands of movies I've never seen, either Stateside or from other countries, I do miss anticipating new movies. Now, I might hear about a new film and my usual reaction is to roll my eyes at it, or in the case of that new piece of incoming bullshit with Jerry Seinfeld, "Asshole, you haven't been relevant since the 90s. You're a creepy old man, who was never funny in the first place, and no amount of trying to resurrect the bland comedy you used to spit up is ever going to make you relevant again." (Gods, I loath him and that fucking sitcom.)

But, on the bright side, I am working on "conserving" movies onto various hard drives because I ain't about to let them suddenly disappear into the ether because of some bullshit excuse that only half-assedly hide's a studio's greed. I will be pressing my brother into service as well.

Anyway, I'm only writing about this because it was was just a sudden realization that was both jarring and not entirely surprising, which is a weird feeling in itself.