#because American movies are usually only like half American

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾:

𝒪𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Its been five months since you started sleeping together, and you're having second thoughts about your "relationship" with Javier. But what does it matter to him? he hasn't even kissed you yet. 🍒 Continuation of “Off to the Races” and “Your Face is Shameless” but can be read alone.

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, thicc age gap [Javi is in his 40s reader is in her early 20s], mentions of anxiety, major angst, situationship, guilt, unrequited love, self loathing, kissing [they did it!], Javier is emotionally unavailable, petnames, major dom/sub dynamic [dd/lg ish vibes], mean!Javi then soft!dom!Javi, degradation, dumbification, minor objectification, major size kink [Javi is bigger than and can lift reader], praise kink [finally some good girl action], daddy kink, choking, pussy pronouns, finger sucking, oral [f receiving], unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if i missed anything 🫶

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello!! I'm back!! thought it would be fitting to revisit these two post hiatus. Sorry in advance for the emotional torture that is about to ensue, but I couldn't help myself. Big thank you to @pixelsandothernonsense for being a big supporter of these two and fuelling their return on the blog time and time again. Lotsa plot, lotsa porn– as always. Hope you enjoy, nasties. Mwah

🍒Off to the races 🍒Your face is shameless 🍒Masterlist

You wanted it to be easy but it’s difficult. You wanted it to be over, but it was not. 

While Colombia seemed to be all fun and games at first sight, the longer you remained stuck in the American embassy’s city centre building the more you longed for home. 

Your research was hitting a roadblock, and things were hard. Funding was running out, and your professors were running away. Better jobs, better prospects. But your degree was the least cause for your troubles. 

You were smart. You were controlled. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you got yourself involved with Javier Peña. It seemed fun at the moment- fooling around, messing with a man double your age and four times more qualified. Trying to wrangle his true intentions out from under his furrowed brow and frown. 

Looking back you felt stupid. Embarrassed. A little ashamed of what you had become. How you let him treat you. 

He used you like a walking sex doll. Didn’t give you one look afterwards. Maybe a pat on the back but somehow that was more insulting. He had never kissed you. And there you were, fixing your makeup in the office bathroom after an evening under his desk had ruined it. 

It had been five months since the first time he'd bent you over his desk but you were only half way through your trip. Five more months seemed too long to bear. It made you sick. 

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, and sleepy and your clothes weren’t crisp as usual. You felt a little bit like the tissue you’d just dabbed against your cheek. A little flimsy and a little dirty. A little used, perhaps. 

It felt a little worse knowing it was all your doing. You weren’t expecting a man like Javier to change. Objectively, it wasn’t possible. But you still asked for more. For him to use and then forget about you. You wanted to leave. You wished he’d never seen this side of you. Frankly you wished you hadn’t either. 

Because you were smart and funny and interesting and could talk about all sorts of things. You liked music and books and movies and trying new food. But he’d never seen you that way. He never would. 

You hadn’t spoken to him once. Not about anything that wasn’t strictly utilitarian. Especially not after he started fucking you. It was far too awkward and far too intimate. 

For him. 

Your feelings flip flopped every day, from the casualty of the affair seeming rather appealing, to it making your chest ache. And yet you couldn’t seem to help yourself, unable to understand not only what this thing you had going on with Agent Peña was, but why you couldn't seem to stop. 

Five months camping out in the office and you hadn’t missed a single day. No matter how bad the hurt in your chest you rolled out of bed and reminded yourself of why you were where you were. It worked. It hurt, but it worked. 

But after five months it seemed like getting out of bed was suddenly impossible one morning and you thought it best to stay home. You got a few calls. One from Fiestl and Van Ness. Connie Murphy sent Steve over with soup when she heard you weren’t feeling well. 

No news from Javi Peña. 

You slept most of the day. With your computer shut and materials put away. You didn’t want to think about it. You fixed yourself dinner- instant noodles, and headed to bed once again. 

You thought it was temporary but the excruciating pain only lingered and carried you on to another day confined to the four walls of your bedroom. 

It was a bad idea- ignoring your work for as long as you did. You should have known that you wouldn’t be able to put it on the back burner- considering the neurosis surrounding your work, the fact you took a two day break was impressive. It wasn’t long before your anxiety was eating away at you, an impending deadline hanging over your head and reminding you the world didn't care about your little pity party. 

Stupid as it was, you found yourself crossing the street at the witching hour of 23:00- clad in the soft cotton dress you forced yourself into earlier that evening. The friday night had persuaded everyone out of the office, and you weren’t surprised when you found the top floor of the embassy building cold and empty. 

You were glad, and perhaps it was the only way you could stomach being there– alone. 

Your desk was exactly how you’d left it a couple of days ago- your books piled in one corner, papers thrown all over the place. It was disorganised and untidy– very unlike you. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you began to sort things out, a feeling of complete exhaustion and defeat threatening to force you into your office chair. You glanced over at Javier’s office, signs he was out for the week prompting the slight relaxation of your shoulders. 

When you finally sat down to get to work, your eyes couldn't help but flutter shut every few moments, the screen of your computer zoning in and out of your vision every now and then. The words seemed to escape you, four lines on your document all you could manage before you were pressing your forehead against the wood of your desk. 

After spending the past two days sleeping somehow all you wanted to do was climb right back into bed. 

Music, surely that would help! Or at least you thought, to no avail, a whole album played once, yet you could only manage another paragraph. Turns out burnout was real.. and it had decided now was the best time to get you. But you weren’t ready to pack up and banish yourself to your studio apartment just yet. So you upped the volume, and sat up just a little bit straighter in your chair, and got back to work. 

Something about the loneliness of working in that drab, white, characterless office was especially miserable. So miserable in fact it was almost comforting, it was so miserable it was funny. It wasn't long before you were sitting completely straight in that sad, uncomfortable office chair, laughing at yourself with a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. You were stupid, and acted silly, and had all these big feelings, but what did it matter? It was diabolical; the capacity Javier had for ruining your life, but soon enough you’d be out of here and one day you’d probably be laughing at the whole ordeal. 

It was exhausting, but what could you do? The words came just a little bit easier from that point, and you felt yourself accept defeat and immersed yourself in your paper. At the end of the day you couldn’t control how he felt about you- you just had to take it or leave it. Not everything is that deep, you rolled your eyes at yourself, but you knew truthfully the lack of his care and affection was more than a little sting. You decided you were better off defining the “relationship” for yourself, and maybe showing a little bit more restraint. Who said everything had to be that serious, maybe you should've taken a page out of Javier’s book! 

Yes that was it, not everything was that serious, was it?

You really wished you’d had the foresight to gauge the stupidity of trying to drown out your surroundings in a public space in the middle of the night. Sure, no external threat could get you inside the excessively secure embassy building, but what did that mean when the real threat to your sanity was the DEA attache. 

Truth be told, you'd have jumped in fear if anyone had tapped their fingers on your computer screen, but when Javier rounded your desk with a raised brow and waved his hand in front of your computer, you were particularly startled. 

“The hell are you doing here?” 

Any other time you’d probably met him with a snappy reply, something to get him going, maybe rile him up enough till he was pressing your face against your papers and fucking you from the back. You wished you could have given him that response that day, but you were so completely out of yourself, you settled for a shrug and a normal “trying to finish this section”. 

“That why you disappeared these past two days?”

“I wish.. probably would have been done by now.” His brows kit, somewhat confused and just noticing your tired, puffy eyes now that he was closer. 

“When’s it due.” he leaned to sit on your table , and traced your features with his fingers. You felt your eyes flutter shut as the tip of his index ran along the bridge of your nose, and feared your new policy was at risk of being thrown right out of the window at his attention. Sighing, you leaned into his touch. Unhappy, but unable to resist it. “Next week.”

He pitched your damp cheeks between his fingers, gently shaking your head from side to side. “You've got time.” 

You hummed and took a moment to look up at him- yellow table lamp doing his golden features all sorts of favours, ones that he didn't even need to begin with if you were being honest.The weight of his hand, the roughness of his skin against yours had a soft sigh escaping your lips. 

Javier's hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to the back of your neck, and he gently guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you helped yourself up long enough to watch him rise beside you, stepping closer. He stepped around you, positioning himself between yourself and the chair, his breath warm against your ear. 

"Sit," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His hand moved to the back of your neck again, this time pulling you down onto his lap. The gesture was possessive, not tender. 

You obeyed, lowering yourself onto him,  your legs on either side of his waist, dangling off the seat. Javier's hands rested on your waist momentarily, heavy and harsh, before drifting lower to your hips, pulling you further into his lap till you could feel his bulge swell against you. You felt yourself get wet, he lifted your hips and then pulled you back down against him, allowing you the slight relief of the friction as you felt yourself embarrassingly throb against him. 

The proximity was suffocating, his scent—cigarettes, and aftershave. He leaned closer, and for a moment, in your delusion, you thought he might kiss you. Instead his fingers squeezed around your throat, breath fanning your lips. “You want to be daddy’s good girl, dontch’ya?” his voice was low, and biting, and you knew you were in for it, for avoiding him, when he tightened his grip at your lack of answer. 

Slick pooled in your panties, and he let you press your hot core against him, undoubtedly able to feel how easily he could unravel you. You shifted your gaze up at the ceiling to avoid his own. 

You squeaked out a feeble “yes”, already delirious. “Then why the fuck, did you think you could disappear without telling me?” He reached for the string that held together the top of your dress, rather aggressively tugging it undone, watching as it unravelled and revealed the soft cotton of your lingerie. “Busy” you whined when traced your skin with his pointer finger, palm coming to squeeze at your breast and then pull your bra aside. 

“Not looking too busy now, are ya?” your nipple pebbled under his palm, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses along your neck. You whimpered, reaching to tangle your fingers in Javier’s hair. Surprisingly, he let you tug on his locks, allowing you to ground yourself as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your bud. He came up to nip at your jaw and you whimpered  a soft “M’ sorry”. 

“What was that?” Javier rolled his eyes and growled in your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth, and pinching the flesh of your thighs, prompting you to speak up. And speak up you did, heat seeping into your panties at his tone and words. He didn’t respond to you, just hummed his assent and pulled you harder against him. 

His hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and his big arms crossed under you to support your weight. Continuing to kiss along your neck he plopped you on the table, but you couldn’t lie, you much preferred being carried so gently in his hold. Thank god the desk had been cleared– giving him enough room to push you back against it. You didn't really want to unwrap your legs from around him, but he grunted disapprovingly before prying your legs from his waist. Your heart jumped as he took a seat on your dingy rolly chair, his large palms lifting your legs by your calves till your feet were planted on his thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows. 

Javier's eyes caught sight of your untied shoelace, a small hazard in the midst of your hurried night. As usual, without a word, he leaned down, fingers deftly working to tie the lace in a swift, fluid motion, securing the bow with a final, firm tug, patting the top of your shoe before returning to the task at hand. 

His eyes were hungry like they always were, deep brown, alluring, the only readable emotion in them- lust. Those large palms parted your knees, making space for you between them. A tingle ran up your spine when he brushed the tips of his fingers against the inside of your thigh, dragging them along your skin till he was toying with the hem of your panties. He shifted forward in the chair, meeting your eyes as he planted a kiss on your calf, and then hoisted your legs up on his shoulders. 

Javier took a moment to admire you, letting his rough hands roam under your skirt. You always wondered what those hands were doing; how they wrapped around his gun when he ran out of the office with it, how small they made the cigarette he was smoking look. You watched him grab, and hold, and type from across your desk when he hadn’t fucked you in a day or two, imagined those hands grabbing at your flesh and wrapping around your throat. You imagined him pumping his fingers in and out your pussy with your own hands between your legs in the middle of the night- unable to go mere days without him fucking you, salivating at the thought of those hands wrapped around his thick cock, wondering if he too couldn’t go without your touch. 

Lost in your thoughts you shuddered when you felt him drag his tongue up the cut of your slit, the already moist fabric of your panties sticking to your skin as he nudged your clit with his nose. Your head fell back involuntarily, and you felt your arms ache as you continued to struggle to hold yourself up on your elbows. Seemingly, he had decided that day he wasn’t going to make you work for it- you looked like you were working far too much already. 

“Look at me.” Javier sharply instructed from between your legs. Nipping the inside of your right thigh till you yelped in his hold. You weren't going to last very long at the sight of him, eyes glancing up at you as his mouth ghosted over your soaked pussy. You watched intently as his fingers pulled your panties aside, softly grazing your swollen flesh in a way that had you pulling your lip between your teeth to contain the pornographic moan that threatened to spill from your mouth and alert the security guard across the hall. 

Your leg twitched on his shoulder as he licked a long, firm stripe up your aching pussy. Both your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue softly explored your folds. The sight of Javier between your legs was enough to send you over the edge, one that would live in your head for a very long time. 

You struggled to hold his eyes with your own when he licked at your entrance, increasing his pace ever so slightly before he was softly sucking your clit into his mouth. Letting yourself lean back against the table you reached to continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, hoping he'd let you have his fluffy locks in your hold. Turns out you were lucky the first time, because as was more common, Javier reminded you of his “no grabbing at daddy” attitude by grasping your hand in his. 

“No grabbin at daddy, babygirl” he murmured against your wetness and you shivered. His fingers engulfed yours, stroking your skin and moving your hands to your chest. His large palm covered yours and squeezed your fingers around your breasts. You moaned, and arched your back against the table up into both your palms as his tongue achingly slipped inside you. 

The feel of his mouth against you was more than perfect, the way he expertly ate you out till you were wiggling your hips against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he fucked you with his tongue. Slow and soft then faster and rough, just how he knew you liked it. 

He seemed to be enjoying the feeling of you just as much,  groaning against your wet cunt everytime you twitched and shuddered against him, the taste of you prompting him only to bury himself deeper between your thighs, pull and grab at your hips, hold you close against him as your chest rose and fell. 

Javier lashed his tongue at your entrance, then plunged it into your slick cunt. You felt your core tighten, and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. “Please…” barely able to complete your sentence you squealed when he circled your clit with his tongue. You could feel him grin against the inside of your thigh, and you reached for his hands on your hips to tug at his fingers feebly. 

Making out the sound of his chuckle over your heavy breathing you whined, and then proceeded to melt in his hold when he responded with a rather gentle, yet delayed and somewhat playfully annoyed “You can come for daddy, babygirl.” 

The grip of your fingers on his tightened, and you sighed, finally letting go as Javier worked between your legs. Your cunt clamped down on his tongue as he finished you off, licking you through your orgasm and holding your hips down as you shook and squirmed above him. 

He kissed along your seam gently as you caught your breath, your breath hitching when he pushed two fingers in your still sensitive cunt to gently stroke your walls. He stifled a groan. You looked down between your legs as he withdrew those fingers and began to stand up. “She so fuckin wet for me, hmm?” He rubbed slow, soft circles on your clit, not caring to watch you intently for any giveaway that would instruct him on the perfect rhythm. He already knew what you liked- he didn’t need to bother. “Slutty little pussy achin’ to be fucked… after all these days, aint she?” 

He took a second to get a good look at you as he moved closer between your legs, and you propped yourself back up on your elbows and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in. 

“My good little slut” 

Bringing his fingers to your lips he urged them open, pushing in and watching you suck gently on his digits. You shivered at the taste of your own arousal. As always you felt a little fuzzy when he did something like that– letting your eyes droop until he nudged you to release them with a pop. He ran those fingers across your lips, watching you struggle to keep your eyes on him as his hand drifted downwards to wrap swiftly around your neck.  “That's better isn't it?” he pressed his clothed cock against your bare, swollen pussy, your panties surely on the verge of ripping the way they’d been pulled aside. Javier seemed to be thinking along the same lines as you, because in a moment he reached for them and urgently dragged them down your hips, unwrapping himself from your hold and holding your ankles in one hand as the other slid your panties all the way off of you. 

When you whined at the loss of his body against yours he tutted, raising his eyebrows at you in warning. 

He then grabbed your thigh with his hand once again, squeezing it and holding it in place against his waist. You heard the jingle of his belt as he undid it. A rough edge on said belt scraped against your skin, but it was difficult to pay attention to it when you felt him reach between your bodies to tease your dripping slit with his length. 

It was sad to admit, but nothing took the weight of your shoulders much like the feeling of his hard cock sliding against your wet pussy, head bumping your clit till you were shivering and then notching at your entrance. You heard him mutter a strained curse under his breath at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in. Javier didn't waste much time, as much as he seemed to enjoy the sight of you deliriously wiggling your hips under him. 

He leaned down and traced the curve of your jaw with the bridge of his nose, breathing in your scent as he pushed in– slowly and gently. Much slower and gentler than he had ever been before. Your legs tightened around him, hips lifting pathetically as you felt him stretch you open. It had been far too long since you’d had him inside you. 

“Such a good little girl..” His hips snapped towards yours. 

“Aren’t ya?” It was an out of body experience, so overwhelming and dizzying you could almost see yourself in the act. Your brain couldn’t comprehend that tone and that gentleness as is, forget when Javier’s cock dragged deliciously against your aching walls. 

Your elbows caved from under you, letting you fall completely back against your little desk. Your head went to fall back soon after, but Javier had managed to snake his hand behind your neck– cradling your head and shielding it from the hard wooden table. Instinctively, you buried your nose in the collar of his dress shirt. He let you seek respite, palm holding you against his warm body, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

Your skin felt like pins and needles, little sparks bounced off your exposed waist and prompted you to wiggle your hips away from him at the intensity of the sensations. “Nah uh” yanking you back in his direction Javier squeezed your hips in his hands, refusing to let you escape the death grip he had on your body, pulling you towards him with every deep, slow, thrust. 

“Silly little thing” He laughed against your lips, so close they brushed against you. You couldn’t help it when your mouth fell slack against his. He took your bottom lip between his teeth. He released it as your walls clenched around him, brows knitting at the feel of your warm, soft cunt around his cock. 

“Mine aren’t ya? Daddy’s good little slut?” Unable to catch hold of anything on the table, your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers twisting the fabric as you gripped it as tightly as you could. He let you pull him towards you, one hand sneaking between your bodies to grab and squeeze at your breast. 

“Then you’re gonna take it like I give it to ya?” You tried to nod, head lulling side to side and mouth hanging open, desperate noises leaving your lips. When your back arched against the table he  pulled you into his chest, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so tightly you felt the leather of his belt cut into your soft skin. 

Eventually he picked up his pace, and you could make out the sound of your pens clattering to the ground as your back moved relentlessly against the desk. The dim grey flood light above you came in and out of your focus, the heat that swelled up inside you hindering your ability to concentrate on absolutely anything.  “Getting all cock drunk on me..” Anything but him. Yet another orgasm stirred in your tummy, your entire body hot and tingling with overwhelm. “There’s my good girl”. 

He pulled you into him with every thrust, his hard length throbbing inside of you. “Just how I like ya’– no thoughts in that head’ve yours.” Your bare chest pressed against his soft shirt, but you longed to feel the heat of his body against your skin. 

“Can't think ‘bout anything but daddy can you?” he managed to laugh, his thick cock dragging against your wet walls in a way that had your mouth falling open in a gasp. “Just daddy, ain't that right?” As usual he grabbed at every part of you he could, hands seeking purchase on any exposed skin. 

He grazed your earlobe with his teeth as he spoke. “Poor baby, going dumb on daddy.” All you could do was whine. “Can’t hear ya..” you whimpered again, strained and hasty “yes”s leaving your mouth at record speed as the tension in your core threatened to burst. 

“S’ how it should be” your dress made it easy for you to slide along the surface of the table as he fucked into your tight, wet heat, railing you as you twitched around him. You struggled to form a broken “daddy” between your lips. 

“Stupid little girl can’t do anything but be daddy’s little sexdoll hmm?” you shook your head, but he grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “‘S okay babylove, s’ how daddy likes ya best” he shook your face gently, “when ya ain't runnin that smart mouth of yours.” 

He grunted and sighs above you, seemingly lost in his own pleasure, not bothering for the first time to make you beg. It was as if the two days you spent apart had him prioritising other things. “Better this way isn’t it, nothin you gotta worry that pretty head about…” you felt your cunt squeeze him. “Not when daddy’s fuckin’ ya’” 

You could tell he was close by the way his thick cock throbbed against your slick walls, the way his Texan accent came through just a little more than it usually did. Your thighs quivered against his waist as the heat continued to pool in your belly. 

You knew he was close when he straightened up again, hands wrapping firmly around your throat as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over. “C’mon baby, be a good girl and come for daddy” he tightened his grip, thumb reaching up to swipe gently at your slack lips. 

You felt your pussy clench around his cock, finally letting go as you writhed under him. You heard him groan over the ringing in your ears, your own eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolled over you in waves. You gushed around him, your own release prompting his. 

Watching his brows knit as his thrusts got sloppy might have well sent you on a second release, aftershocks making your hips wiggle against his palms as he squeezed them, his cock throbbing inside you before he erupted with a shudder. A string of strained curses escaped his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his high. 

You laid there, the heat from your exertion slowly dissipating. You felt Javier pull out, his spend trickling down your thighs, and slide your panties back up over your legs. A heaviness tugged at your limbs and made your eyelids droop. Every muscle felt loose, languid, as if all the tension and energy had been drawn out, leaving behind only a deep, satisfying fatigue. 

Javier put his hands on your waist and lifted you off the table, you returned to your habitual silence, this time albeit far more satiated than before. You were dizzy, feeling like a small ghost floating in front of him, engulfed by his towering form. The world around you began to fade, sounds muffling and blurring into an indistinct background hum.

Every blink became slower, your vision narrowing to slits before closing entirely. You let yourself drift into that warm state between sleep and wakefulness, the exhaustion of the week catching up to you in more ways than one, uncaring of the sense that Javier’s eyes had been lingering. You felt him trace the bridge of your nose, reducing any prospects of you actually getting off that desk. 

He fixed your lingerie and tied the bow of your dress back up, one hand returning to stroke your cheek. His other arm came to support your back as it wrapped around you, pulling you towards him. You looked up to find him watching you, with an expression you couldn’t bother to decipher at the moment. 

You couldn’t help but fall into his chest as he stood above you, his arms reaching behind you as he packed your things in your work bag. You felt your eyes flutter shut again, complete exhaustion taking over your weak form. He placed a kiss to your temple, lifting you off the table once and into his hold once again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking securely at the ankles. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into your flesh.

You felt cold again suddenly, and Javier readjusted his arms to hold you with his right while his left rubbed along your shoulders to warm up your skin, prickled with goosebumps. 

Your head rested against his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a comforting, rhythmic lull. You nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck, tilting your head till your nose was brushing the cut of his jaw. 

Javier shifted slightly, and you could feel the subtle change in his posture as he leaned towards you, and his face came level with yours– you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. His hand cradled your cheek. 

With your eyes still closed you felt his lips press gently against yours, so pillowy and soft you barely registered them. He tasted how you’d imagined so many times before– cigarettes, and whiskey. Melting into his touch your hands moved to ball the fabric of his shirt gently in your fist. His lips moved against your’s with a carefulness you couldn’t really understand, but the fact that they were at all was enough. Exhaustion aside, you had a feeling the triviality of the whole ordeal, its comfort and normality seemed expected. And just as quickly as it began, it was over.

Perhaps it had always meant a lot more to you, than it did to him. 

The hand that was cupping your cheek pinched it and then snaked around your waist to help you find your footing on the ground, the same hand coming down to slap your ass as he pushed you towards the door. 

In usual Javier fashion he checked his phone, uninterestedly murmuring a soft “you can start again tomorrow” as you stood in the elevator. He let you lean against him, his palm coming down to pat your head momentarily before it was back to sorting the files in his hands.  You looked up at him, his mind now completely diverted to whatever he had come to collect in the office in the first place, so unbothered by what seemed to transpire between the two of you. 

Perhaps nothing really did. 

You wished his words gave you some motivation, but it was turning out to be really difficult to want to be anything more than his dumb, silly, little girl. 

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

sakjdlakd I'm sorry I just can't let them be happy lmao. Hope you enjoyed this, and let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone who reblogs and comments on my content, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @/sardika 🐝✨💗

[petermorwood]

Food on St Patrick's Day (in the USA)...

...is usually Corned Beef & Cabbage, which is the Irish-American version of the original Irish boiled bacon & cabbage, but while the celebratory Irishness is still going strong, try something a bit more authentic.

A nice warm coddle. Not cuddle, coddle, though just as comforting in its own way. (Some sources suggest it's a hangover cure, not that such a thing would ever be necessary at this time of year, oh dear me no.)

Coddle is a stew using potatoes, onions, bacon, sausages, stout-if-desired / stock-if-not, pepper, sage, thyme and Time.

You'll often see it called "Dublin Coddle", but my Mum made Lisburn Coddle lots of times, I've made West Wicklow Coddle more than once, and on one occasion in a Belgian holiday apartment I made Brugsekoddel, which is an OK spelling for something that doesn't exist in any cookbook.

*****

I do remember one amendment I made to Mum's recipe, which met with slight resistance at the time and great appreciation thereafter.

Her coddle was originally cooked on the stove-top, not in the oven, and nothing was pre-cooked. Potatoes were quartered, onions were sliced, bacon was cut into chunks and then everything went into the big iron casserole, then onto the slow back ring, and there it simmered Until Done.

However, the bacon was thick-cut back rashers, and the sausages were pork chipolatas.

Raw, they looked like this:

...and the bacon looked like this:

Cooked in the way Mum initially did, they looked pretty much the same afterwards. The sausages didn't change colour. Nor did the bacon.

While everything tasted fine, the meat parts always looked - to me, anyway - somewhat ... less than appealing. "Surgical appliance pink" is the kindest way to put it, and that's all I'm saying. This is apparently "white coddle" and Dubs can get quite defensive about This Is The Way It SHOULD Look.

I'm not a Dub, so I persuaded Mum to fry both the bacon and sausages first, just enough to get a bit of brown on, and wow! Improvement! I remember my Dad nodding in approval but - because he was Wise - not saying anything aloud until Mum gave it the green light as well.

Doing the coddle in the oven, first with lid on then with lid off, came later and met with equal approval. So did using only half of the onion raw and frying the other half lightly golden in the bacon fat.

Nobody quoted from a movie that wouldn't be made for another decade, but there was a definite feeling of...

*****

There are coddle recipes all over the Net: I've made sure that these are from Ireland to avoid the corned-beef-not-boiled-bacon "adjustment" versions which are definitely out there. I've already seen one with Bratwurst. Just wait, it'll be chorizo next.

Oh, hell's teeth, I was right. And from RTE...

Returning to relative normality, here's Donal Skehan's white coddle and his browned coddle with barley (I'm going to try that one).

Here's Dairina Allen's Frenchified with US measurements version. (I feel considerably less heretical now.)

And finally (OK, not Irish, but it references a couple of the previous ones and is a VERY comprehensive write-up, so gets a pass) Felicity Cloake's Perfect Dublin Coddle (perfect according to who, exactly...?) in The Guardian.

*****

Returning to the beginning, and how boiled bacon became corned beef (a question which prompted @dduane to start an entire website...!)

The traditional Irish meat animal for those who could afford it was the pig, but when Irish immigrants (even before the Great Famine) arrived in the USA, they often lived in the same urban districts as Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe.

For fairly obvious reasons pork, bacon and other piggy products were unavailable in those districts, but salt beef was right there and far cheaper than any meat Irish immigrants had ever seen before.

Insist on tradition or eat what was easy to find? There'd have been contest - and do I sometimes wonder a bit if sauerkraut ever came close to replacing cabbage for the same reason.

The pre-Famine Irish palate liked sour tastes: a German (?) visitor to Ireland in the mid-1600s wrote about about what were called "the best-favoured peasantry in Europe", and mentioned that they had "seventy-several sour milks and creams*, and the sourer they be, the better they like them."

* Yogurt? Kefir? Skyr? Gosh...

Corned beef and Kraut as the immigrants' celebratory "Irish" meal for St Patrick's Day? Maybe, maybe not.

Time for "Immigrant Song" (with kittens).

*****

Corned beef got its name from the size of the salt grains with which the beef was prepared. They were usually bigger than kosher salt, like pinhead oats or even as large as grains of wheat, and their name derived originally from "corned (gun)powder", the large coarse grains used in cannon.

BTW, "corn" has been a generic English term for "grain" for centuries, and "but Europe didn't have corn" is an American mistake assuming the word refers to sweetcorn / maize, which it doesn't.

Lindsey Davis, author of the "Falco" series, had a couple of rants about it and other US-requested "corrections". As she points out, mistakes need corrected but "corn" is not a mistake, just a difference in vocabulary.

*****

In Ancient and Medieval Ireland pig would have included wild boar, the hunting of which was a suitable pastime for warriors and heroes, because Mr Boar took a very dim view of the whole proceeding and wasn't shy about showing it (see "wild boar" in my tags and learn more).

Cattle were for milk, butter, cream and little cattle; also wealth, status, and heroic displays in their theft, defence or recovery. It's no accident that THE great Irish epic is "The Cattle-Raid of Cooley" / Táin Bó Cúailnge (tawn / toyn boh cool-nyah).

Killing a cow for meat was ostentation on a level of lighting cigars with 100-, or even 500-, currency-unit notes. Once it had been cooked and eaten there'd be no more milk, butter, cream or little cattle from that source, so eating beef was showing off And Then Some.

Also, loaning a prize bull to run with someone else's heifers was a sign of great friendship or alliance, while refusing it might be an excuse for enmity or even war. IMO that's what Maeve of Connaught intended all along, picking undiplomatic envoys who would get drunk and shoot their mouths off so the loan was refused and she, insulted, would have an excuse to...

But I digress, as usual. Or again. Or still... :->

*****

For the most part, "pig" mean "domestic porker", and in later periods right up to the Famine, these animals were seldom eaten.

Instead, known as "the gentleman who pays the rent", the family pig ate kitchen scraps and rooted about for other foods, none of which the tenant had to grow or buy for them. These fattened pigs would go to market twice a year, and the money from their sale would literally pay that half-year's rent.

For wealthier (less poor?) farmers, pigs had another advantage. Calves arrived singly, lambs might be a pair, but piglets popped out by the dozen. A sow with (some of) her farrow was even commemorated on the old ha'penny coin...

What with bulls, chickens, hares, horses, hounds, pigs, salmon and stags, the pre-decimal Irish coinage is a good inspiration for some sort of fantasy currency.

But that's another post, for another day.

[wileys-russo]

I NEEEED a bf leah fic about going to NY with her because she has been pulling some ultimate looks. Maybe being at the basketball game with her and her trying to explain everything to you as well as being super touchy because she can feel people looking at what’s hers

jorts II l.williamson

"leah for the love of god please tell me i'm seeing things and you are not wearing prada loafers with nike tube socks right now." you shook your head in disbelief as you finished doing your hair and returned from the bathroom.

"you know how it is, prada or nada baby." the blonde grinned smugly from where she was sat on the edge of your hotel bed, putting down her phone as she drunk you in.

"come here." the taller girl purred, quickly standing to her feet and reaching out for you, taking your hands and whistling as she spun you in a circle.

"hello sexy." the defenders hands fell possessively to your hips as her eyes hungrily roamed your exposed cleavage spilling out of the lacey black bralette which just peeked out of the chocolate brown oversized button up you were wearing in place of a dress.

her pupils dilated at the black leather knee high boots which completed the look, jaw clenching as her tongue licked slowly at her lips making you smile smugly, adoring the obvious effect you had on her.

"oh god leah...jorts?" you groaned ruining the moment as your gaze flickered down to the washed denim which hung to her knees, pushing her away with a roll of your eyes.

"jorts are in at the moment love." the blonde retorted with her usual cocky smile, slipping on a few rings as you swapped over your earrings. "right to go?" leah offered you her hand, grabbing her phone off the bed as you slid your room key into your clutch.

"i hate that you can make anything look good."

~

"so we want the blue team to win right?" you clarified quietly, tapping at leahs hand which was placed on your thigh. "for once yes." leah chuckled, slender fingers tracing lines on your warm skin as she banged on about the rules, you only half listening as you simply hummed.

"at least try to pretend like you care darling." leah chuckled quietly offering you a sip of her drink as you tried to take the cup, giving her a look as she moved it back.

her eyes boring into yours expectantly you knew what she wanted, so with a roll of your eyes you lent forward allowing her to put the cup to your lips, not missing the quiet warning not to roll your eyes at her again which followed.

you took a swig before your girlfriend moved the cup back, ring clad thumb wiping a few loose droplets from your bottom lip, your stomach fluttering at the simple gesture as the blonde turned back to the game, squeezing your thigh gently.

everything was fine until the buzzer sounded for halftime, leah leaving you with jason as she disapeared to get the two of you another drink, placing a loving kiss to the side of your head as she stood.

however when she returned to see her seat was filled by another body her good mood was instantly diminished. the blonde was easily fifty metres away but already saw on your face that you weren't comfortable, much as you tried covering it up with a fake smile.

"sorry mate, seems you're in my seat." you let out a silent sigh of relief as your girlfriend appeared in front of you, glancing down to you wordlessly checking in as you gave her a small nod of assurance.

"we're just talking, there's a seat there." the man nodded behind him to jasons vacant seat as the movie star had been briefly whisked away by a few of his peers for a photo, the stranger not even sparing leah a look as you glanced up at her with pleading eyes.

the blondes jaw clenched as she watched the american place his hand on your shoulder and you went rigid, hands fidgeting with the bottom of your dress shirt as his eyes shamelessly wandered your body.

"yeah there is. and i'm sure you've got one elsewhere, so why don't you run along and go sit back down in it." leah warned, voice now octaves deeper as her eyes glared into the side of his head. "look doll-" the mans gaze finally lifted from you and his face slackened seeing the english captains bright blue orbs piercing down on him angrily.

"oh shit you're leah williamson." the man realised, eyes widening as he shot to his feet and took a step away, allowing your girlfriend to sit back down, placing the drinks by her feet and stretching her arm protectively over the back of your chair.

"nah not me, sorry mate." and with that the blondes hand which sat on your shoulder grabbed your chin, the defender leaning in and rewarding you with a searingly passionate kiss, your breath hitching as she wasted no time slipping her tongue in your mouth.

by the time she pulled away with a slight pop, leaving your lips somewhat bruised and a little swollen the man had scurried off back to wherever he'd come from.

leahs own lips curled into a cocky smile as yours tingled from the feverish kiss, brought back down to earth as leah turned your head to meet her eyeline, hand still gripping your jaw only now a lot more tenderly.

"did he do anything to you?" the blonde asked seriously, perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowing with concern as her eyes roamed your face for any sign of discomfort. "no he was only sat there for a minute or two before you came back, I told him i was here with someone but he wouldn't take the hint."

"i should have poured my fucking drink on his head, smug prick." leah muttered angrily, letting go of your chin and pressing a much softer kiss to your forehead. "hey calm down. i'm okay, don't let him spoil our evening." you grabbed her hand and squeezed as leah nodded, downing her drink in one and exhaling, rolling her neck a few times as her arm stayed wrapped around your shoulder.

"besides, once we get back to the hotel later baby i'm yours and only yours." you whispered to your blonde lover as the game recommenced, causing her cocky smile to only grow wider.

"in that case then i'll make sure the entire hotel are reminded who you belong to as well." leah murmered in your ear as she kissed at your rapidly blushed cheek.

"all mine. my most pretty girl."

[caxde]

pretty sounds | steve harrington x reader

summary you and Steve share an apartment while you're both away in Uni, one night he comes earlier than he should and gets to enjoy himself

warnings fem!reader, 18+ mdni this is just smut guys i'm sorry. english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n part 2 is up!

Steve always took his showers in the morning. 

You preferred them at night. 

Sharing a small flat with him was a quiet experience. He’d spent most of his time out of it anyway, preferring to study at the University library, or at the coffee shop you had down the corner. Or working half shifts in the small record store, where you also worked. 

Roommate and coworker Steve were two very different people. 

Roommate Steve was prone to laugh at your stupid jokes and watch stupid movies with you on the couch. 

Coworker Steve tried not to talk to you that much, scared that if your boss saw you two chatting it up, he’d get accused of flirting with you. Scared that it was painfully obvious to everyone else but you. 

But it was impossible for him to not stare at you when you’d come home exhausted after a stressful shift and mutter under your breath how much you wanted a hot shower. Or how he’d wait painfully to hear the record you had been playing while you studied in your room stop, knowing that you were about to knock on his door and tell him that if he had to go to the bathroom he better do it now before you took your very deserved long shower. 

He often teased you about how much you’d like to have a bath instead. 

You’d laugh it off, even though he was absolutely right. 

The truth is, he loves to hear you while the water hits your body. 

The bathroom stood between his room and yours. 

His bed against the wall, he usually laid down on it with a second hand book about whatever topic he needed to research for his next paper on American Revolution History or European History and its impact in Modern World. It didn’t matter to him, because in the next ten to twenty minutes he could hear you singing to yourself, your voice drowned by the noise of flowing water hitting your wet body. Though he did love it when you’d talk to yourself. 

Today was different. 

He’d come home later than he usually does, he had spent way more time than he intended stuck in the library trying to write his last paper on the Spanish Republic and he had little to no information on it, and he had exhausted himself enough to go straight to his bed, letting his body hit the mattress without even bothering to turn on the lights. 

That’s when he heard the shower turning on. 

At least he can hear you sing for him for a bit he thinks. 

But he was wrong for once. 

You thought you were alone, you thought you could be as loud as you wanted to, or as much as you needed to. The truth is, you had been crushing on Steve for a while now, and sometimes, only sometimes, you fantasized about him. Maybe more than you’ve been proud of. 

So now, as you were standing there, with the hot steam hugging all the parts of your body, and the water dripping drow your curves, you started thinking about how it would feel if what was keeping you warm wasn’t the hot air, but him, standing behind you, kissing every inch of your bare skin. 

You couldn’t help yourself, not now. So your fingers traveled down your folds, your fingers playing lazily with your dripping wet pussy, circling your clit as you thought of him, soft small moans came out of your mouth. And the hunger only grew, as images of him walking around the flat without his shirt and hair dripping wet invaded your mind. The way his hair sticks onto his forehead every morning, and he always smiles at you before telling you good morning in that husky early morning voice. 

It was driving you crazy, so you started touching yourself with more speed, a clearer pattern, tempting your entrance as one of your fingers graced it. 

Unknown to you, Steve was laying on the other side of the wall, his eyes opened as he heard you moaning, with each one growing louder and clearer, his mind became clouded, as he felt the way his jeans started to feel to tight on him, he needed to free himself, so he did the only thing he felt like he could. He sighed as his cock hitted his stomach once his pants and underwear laid on the floor. And he began stroking himself, softly, slowly, letting himself be guided by your voice as you whined. 

The only thing that made him touch himself faster is when he heard the way your voice moaned his name. 

You were so close to cumming, one of your hands had three of your fingers deep inside you, reaching that spot that made you see stars, as the other held the shower head closely to your clit, the vibrations of it making it feel when you closed your eyes that he was the one eating you out. And even after you had comed and you had screamed his name as loud as you could you left it there for a moment, recomposing yourself. Wishing he was there so you could kiss him, wishing he’d feel what you feel. 

He did, but you didn’t know, though now he did. 

His hands wrapped around his throbbing cock fast, and tightly, he resorted to biting his lower lip so he wouldn’t be a whippering mess, but he couldn’t help himself when he came all over his stomach and he looked down at himself, with the stupidest grin he could fathom.

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests are open

[tainted-liquor]

Can't Forget You....˚ * ꒰ঌ♱໒꒱ * ˚.ft. 1610Miles

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭...

ingredients: Salt, tears, and no sugar

tws: Death, mention of blood

a/n: the 'what if' version of this story <;33

What happened?

Miles was always known to be a happy go lucky boy. But after the death of his girlfriend, there was nothing but a downward spiral. It was clear to everyone around him that he was deeply wounded and needed some time to heal, but what happens when he's left alone with the pieces and memories of everyone he's lost? When he's left with nothing but his reflection in the cracked mirror of Hobie's bathroom and a pretty pink headband of yours? I mean, nobody would notice if he was gone anyway, right? The universe would cruelly replace him with a carbon copy of some other chosen kid to swoop in and fight in place of him.

He was replaceable.

Hobie was the one who found Miles, floating face down in love-flushed water.

"Miles. Miles? Oi, mate c'mon y'gotta come out the bathroo-...MILES!? FUCK, FUCK!! C'MON MAN GET UP!"

There was no sound. He could still dimly see the panic of his close friend Hobie's face before the tiny black tunnel lost its only source of light. Unfortunately for Hobie, that would be the last time he saw those twinkling doe eyes peer up at him with nothing but love.

"HOLD ON, C'MON WE-...sniffle...WE GOTTA GET YOU SOMEWHERE, FUCK" Hobie yelled, scooping up the smaller boy from the rosé colored bathtub. He was limp and ice cold in his hold, and each step he took seemed to shake more and more life away from who he viewed as his little brother. The little conscious in his head knew that he was already gone, but that didn't stop him from hurling himself through the origami-cut portal and bolting through the halls of SpiderSociety in search of a medic. Someone, anyone that could help him. He didn't know if it was the fear in his lungs or the realization that Miles was too far into the ice to be pulled out, but he found himself losing control of his legs as soon as Miles was in a hospital bed, stretched out in an eerily inhumane stance.

And it didn't take long for the available nurses to pronounce Miles Gonzalo Morales dead upon arrival. His skin was freezing to the touch, his face vacant of any soul, and his usual tense and alert posture was now indefinitely relaxed and settled. Miles Morales of Earth 1610, Son, Boyfriend, Friend, and little brother to many, was deceased.

The news spread like wildfire, and Pavitr was the first one to speed into the medical wing.

His hair was a mess, he was still in pajamas, and he couldn't bring himself to stop crying. He was bitten by the grief bug almost immediately when he saw his best friend lying there in a red splotchy white tee. If it wasn't for Hobie's firm and almost painful grip on his shoulder, he would have deluded himself into thinking he was still sleeping. And deep down he prayed that he was, and this was some sort of fucked up coma-dream he got himself knocked into during battle. He didn't care how icy his body was, nothing stopped him from intertwining his hand with Miles as he attempted to communicate with his corpse.

"Hey, man! I-..sob..-hope you and Y/N are...happy up there! We-...we REALLY NEEDED YOU HERE, THOUGH" he shouted, earning himself a half-stern half-apologetic glare from a couple passing spiders. He wasn't ready to let go of the long nights he'd spend binging American movies with Hobie and Miles. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the vacant and distant expression on his face. So he too, joined Hobie on the floor in a pool of depression.

The last to find out was Gwen

Now, it wasn't because she wasn't in the vicinity when everything happened, not at all. Nobody wanted to tell her because they knew how crushed she'd be. She broke down almost immediately, losing her footing in the process. No amount of healing could fix or mend the amount of trauma she'd been through in the past year or so. Her first Spider-friend killed himself alongside his beloved girlfriend, she was kicked out of her home, and she wound up betraying Miles over some dumb theory. If she hadn't reminded herself that you and Miles were watching over her, she would've ended things then and there. She trudged forward daily with the weight of the world on her shoulders, dedicating every single move she made to her two favorite people above.

They fell into a routine of bringing you and Miles fresh flowers, red hibiscus for him and pink azaleas for you. They never went back to 1610, dreading the day that they'd see an unfamiliar suited boy swing across the Brooklyn horizon.

Taglist:

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @Fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x @moonpiies @we-loveebony

[gaykarstaagforever]

FREE ON YOUTUBE

...YouTube, I feel like your free animated movie recommendations have declined in quality a bit since the halcyon days of Osmosis Jones.

Yes, it is a blatant Kung Fu Panda knockoff, with an American voice cast that is clearly whoever was home at 11 am the week they called.

This is bad. Like, unfinished, I think I'm missing like half the movie, they forgot to resolve the main plot and it just stops, bad. There is a scene where the only character on screen suffers an animation error, and no one fixed it. The framerate of the movie drops every time the action picks up or the camera swings around too fast. Like...you made a computer-animated movie, and you don't have the hardware or time to do...you know...computer animation? The stones on the Chinese producers of this mess.

Not everything has to be Pixar or DreamWorks. CG is hard. I get it. But you gotta work to your strengths. In this case, the computers you are using can't even render the movie properly. Like...I don't know how you get around that. That's kind of a major issue.

Technical incompetence aside, this suffers from the usual bad CG animation problems of every character looking like they come from a different artistic universe, and most of the action is generic mocaping that doesn't take into account how any real bodies shaped like these bodies would move. And there are just things they didn't bother capturing. Like none of these dough monsters ever stands up on screen.

Shot composition is a disaster. Most scenes are a mob of creatures standing in a pack in an empty space, doing exaggerated facial reactions to someone else talking. It's like bad machinima made in the Skylanders games engine, except all of the character designs are way worse.

The plot, such as they attempted it, is supposed to be about a small, incompetent warrior who looks like Jackie Chan who gets transported to the mystical realm of Merryland by a magical jade necklace his grandfather gave him. There, he transforms into an anthropomorphic panda, for reasons that are never explained. There is a prophecy that a Panda Warrior is destined to save the realm, and our guy is apparently it, except there is a flashback to like a couple of years ago when the ultimate evil took over, and...there is ANOTHER Panda Warrior who was just there and sort of stopped it? But then didn't? Who the hell was that guy?!

Also the ultimate evil is one of the two sky-whales who guard the Dragon Ball (yes, literally) just turning evil because it absorbed too much power. Why did this happen? How are you going to stop it from happening again? Then that whale turns into a nine-headed snake after an evil mouse from the real world just...is there, and merges with the Whale. After the snake is defeated the mouse just crawls out of it and runs away, and no one says a damn thing.

Our panda warrior and his 7 legendary warrior friends kung fu fight the snake at least 3 different times, and never get close to stopping it. And the panda doesn't do anything special or lead them, he is just there, and then at the very end his necklace glows and that...helps? Somehow? The true hero here is, and I'm not joking, Jimmy Ginseng, a tiny ginseng man with an erhu who shows up whenever the warriors are losing, plays the erhu, the enemy gets soothed by the song, and then Jimmy gets tired and leaves. EVERY BATTLE ends like this, including the final one.

So...?

The panda has that cool green sword in the picture. And he does have it. It is just...a sword, thst someone randomly gives him. I think he ends up dropping it and it never comes up again.

Also all the warriors are animals, except for the one who is a talking tree stump...filled with lava. And he dies at the end by setting himself and the snake on fire. Because his master, a purple fox, told him to do that to save everyone. ...Except the SNAKE SURVIVED IT, and they had to fight it again, lose, and wait for Jimmy to show up.

The bull character also sacrifices himself, TWICE, to save everyone else, and both times that doesn't work, either.

The movie ends with Merryland being restored from the devastation of the snake...BEFORE the snake is defeated. It just...gets better, after they resuce an elf girl princess who does...something...? And then the regrown flowers shoot the snake with missiles of some kind. Which ALSO fails to defeat it.

The panda doesn't go home and become human again and nothing is explained. But during the credits there is a fight scene between the little human warrior and his general, in which they get drunk and wrestle and tons of fight animations repeat in a loop for 3 minutes. Is this part of the movie? Are these outtakes? What does this have to do with anything? If this is what happens after he got home, I don't know why or what it means.

...My guess is that the first panda warrior we see was supposed to be his grandfather, as a panda? That was probably the idea? But no one ever says that. The movie doesn't remember to explain that.

This was translated from Chinese. Perhaps the translation is terrible. Or they did a massive reedit of this for the US release. That could explain some of this. ...But then why didn't they cut out the glitch scene, or some of the shots with the bad framerate? There are literal 10 second sequences in this movie where there is no dialogue or music, just a camera sleeping over a scenery to ambient nature sounds. Who reedits a movie for the foreign market and cuts out vital plot scenes, but leaves in shit like that?

...Unless all those vital plot scenes had even worse technical problems. Jesus. That's a terrifying thought.

One positive here. While nearly all of the voice work is as boring and bored as you'd expect, the immortal Tom Kenny is good, with what very little he is given to do, here. The man is a professional.

And here is the weirdest thing: Rob Schneider is really good here as the panda man and Jimmy Ginseng. Like, shockingly good. Like, this is without exaggeration the best performances of this man's miserable life. He is funny, charming, nuanced, he feels like he is reacting properly during what were probably one-sided conversations recorded on different days in different places. It is shocking how good he is in this awful, stupid movie. My only guess is that he was somehow involved in bringing this over and it was going to serve as an audition piece to get him more voice work. In which case, like, fair enough, dude. You nailed it. He is genuinely very good in this very bad movie.

What an odd artifact from 2012. What a waste of time. Why did YouTube recommend this? What do any of us gain from being shown this? I am just flabbergasted.

You're on time out with these movie suggestions, Google.

Also there is a pig who flies who looks like this:

Those aren't ears, they are just gross misshapen tendrils that bob around as she moves. It's like someone was playing with a stretch tool and then...stopped.

I was gonna end with "Now let's have Jimmy Ginseng play us out," but I can only find this one bad picture of him, and it doesn't show his erhu:

Here is some nice erhu music from someone else. Something redeeming in this godforsaken post:

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (November 26-December 2, 2023)

I wasn't over the moon when Toho announced that Takashi Yamazaki's Blockbuster Monster Movie was in fact the next Godzilla film. I had seen a few of his works—none bad, but none spectacular either. Well, I've set my sights on watching the rest in the new year, because Godzilla Minus One is an unqualified masterpiece. A tagline from the original Godzilla, King of the Monsters! comes to mind (as it often does when you're me): "Mightiest melodrama of them all!" A lot of the post-Showa films suffer from an abundance of characters who just spout exposition and look at monitors; here, almost everyone in the small cast gets at least one close encounter with Godzilla, and the monster's backstory is conveyed with extreme efficiency. This tale of a war veteran trying to rebuild his life in the ruins of Tokyo, stumbling into a family, finding fulfillment in blowing up leftover mines, and haunted by what he perceives as his cowardice in combat, would have been plenty compelling without Godzilla.

Since it does have Godzilla, it's high on my list of the best movies of the year, and I only need one viewing to call it one of the best installments in the almost-70-year-old series. Yamazaki patiently waited some 15 years after Always: Sunset on Third Street 2 for his shot at a Godzilla feature. You certainly get the sense, watching one of the most brutal, pissed-off incarnations of the monster ever to grace the screen, that he spent every day of it in preparation. Watch it often while it's still in theaters, and watch it big.

Godzilla Minus One will gross about $10 million in its U.S. opening "weekend", a third-place finish that beat expectations. For context, Godzilla 2000, the last Toho Godzilla film to receive a wide release here, made about $10 million during its entire theatrical run here. Ticket prices were cheaper then, of course, and Minus One was helped along further by almost half of attendees going to premium-format screenings. Conversely, it had to overcome Americans' subtitle phobia, and the first weekend of December is usually a slow one. I was pessimistic at the outset, but now I expect larger theaters to carry the film into the new year, especially with near-universal raves from critics and audiences.

Yes, a third section for Godzilla Minus One; it's well-deserved, I promise. MyKaiju is risking life and limb by hosting an English translation of the film's novelization, written by Takashi Yamazaki himself. It appears to be at least partially machine-translated, but the Japanese text is included for comparison. Haven't read it yet, as I want to see the film a second time first, but quite a breakthrough given how mysterious this sort of thing usually is.

Monarch: Legacy of Monsters could never hope to compare with the opening of a stellar new Godzilla film; unfortunately, I also thought this week's episode was the weakest so far. It's bookended by Frost-Vark action, but the rest just drags. All's forgiven if the teacher and the hacker smooch though.

Toho and Legendary used to let each other's live-action Godzilla movies breathe; now the U.S. opening weekend of one is coinciding with the opening marketing push of the other. IGN released a trio of pics from Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, showing Kong with his axe; Dr. Andrews, Jia, and Trapper (Dan Stevens's character) in uniform; and Godzilla "evolving into a powerful new form." The same article included an interview with director Adam Wingard. Naturally, he didn't give away much... besides the return of Doug.

Earlier in the week, Legendary put out a trio of posters featuring Godzilla, Kong, and the film's antagonist, now christened Skar King. The taglines ("Unite" for our heroes, "Bow to Your King" for SK) sound like kaiju campaign slogans. Makes me wonder if, like Godzilla vs. Megalon before it, the movie will improbably capitalize on the presidential election next year. To steal a joke from Titanollante: Godzilla/Kong unity ticket? They'd have my vote.

Godzilla's new form, meanwhile, has already been spoiled by a T-shirt on Legendary's own site and some dire-looking Playmates figures. It makes sense that Wingard would want to have his own spin on the character after keeping the design from Godzilla: King of the Monsters for Godzilla vs. Kong. Hard to cast judgment without seeing the real design in full, but there's one particular detail I really like.

The film also has a booth at CCXP in Brazil, with a panel later today, so I think a trailer is incoming (the main reason I hammered out this whole post so quickly).

I missed this one last week: Tsuburaya announced an anime project called Ultraman: DARKNESS HEELS. The DARKNESS HEELS branding has been around for a while, spotlighting prominent evil Ultras—and, of course, Jugglus Juggler. No details on the anime yet, but if the Juggleman's there, so am I.

The big toy reveal this weekend was Super7's ULTIMATES! MaiGoji figure. Previous Godzilla figures from this line haven't lived up to the official photos, but hope springs eternal. It's $85 (much less than the MonsterArts); preorders started Friday. Other highlights: a Super7 ReAction figure of the original Godzilla's skeleton, which comes with a little Oxygen Destroyer, and a plush Mothra from Surreal Entertainment that can flip to imago form to a neck pillow-shaped larva.

[mashyimaro]

@thatkevinsmith : Long before any other pop culture figure “broke the internet” (@)theshando singlehandedly shattered it in the early 90’s. This is an incredible accomplishment considering the internet as we know it didn’t even exist yet. I (and the rest of the known universe) used to watch “the girl from #heathers” every week on (@)beverlyhills90210. I usually did so while jockeying the register at (@)quickstopgroceries - so it was ironic that the film I’d eventually make there would lead to #shannendoherty. (@)malcolm.ingram is most responsible for Shannen being in #mallrats. When I told him my next flick was essentially “Clerks in a Mall”, Malcolm insisted “Then you gotta cast Doherty! She’s an American icon!” That she was, and so much more. Shannen was a true talent and she became a good friend, but lest anyone forget, she was the only reason Mallrats got green-lit in 1995. That’s because Shannen was one of the most famous people on the planet - and the fact that she picked Mallrats as her first follow-up to 90210 made that movie happen. I cherish the memories of Shannen walking her German Shepherd around the (@)edenprairiecenter every morning, or whenever she’d gossip and giggle between takes. At the junket for Rats, we established a ritual we kept up for years, where she wrote “dick” over my half of our (@)filmthreat cover while I wrote “bitch” over her pic. But while Shannen was no shrinking violet and she gave as good as she got (particularly to the paparazzi), she was never anything but sweet to me. I told her back in December when I was on her podcast that I felt like the girl I used to watch on TV at Quick Stop was there to welcome me when I got into show business. Fuck… She’s died way too soon. I already miss you, Do-Do. Thank you for going to the Mall with me - and for thirty years of friendship. My Canadian pal was right: you are (and always will be) an American icon.

[nerves-nebula]

Hello. I have never seen an "teenage mutant ninja turtles" show, comic, or movie. The characters however, appeal to me. If any one show or movie would suffice, where should I begin? Other sources have not been helpful.

OHHH GODDD OK WELL. OK SO. the thing is that different iterations are SO different i'm not entirely convinced that comparing them to each other is very ?? helpful?? a lot of people these days get into tmnt through the 2018 animated show Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles. HOWEVER, that show only has like 2 seasons and is not the end all be all of the tmnt universe.

it's kind of hard for me to advise you to watch or read any one specific piece of tmnt media to get into it, because I kind of just already knew about it the entire time growing up?? like i never really actively watched it but i was generally aware of the concept for my entire life.

and i'm not sure exactly ABOUT the tmnt characters interests you, so i wouldn't know where to point you.

with all that as a disclaimer here's some of the more popular film/tv shows (I'm about as lost as you when it comes to the comics to be honest)

ROTTMNT/rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles. it's the newest series as far as i know and it has fantastic animation. it's very funny and lighthearted most of the time and the boys even get magic powers (eventually) it's the one that really got me into tmnt. this one kind of switches around the roles of the characters. Usually you'll see Raph being depicted as the rash one, or the one with anger issues who strikes out on his own (and i still think thats true to an extent in rottmnt) but he, as well as Leo, are definitely portrayed in a different way than normal in rottmnt. which i like tbh it's fun. (i could write a whole essay about how their characters are different but also kind of the same in rottmnt vs other media but that would take all day)

TMNT 2012 series. The 2012 series is very influential as well, and heavily beloved by many. I haven't seen all of it yet, but it's biggest drawbacks (to me at least) is its very 2010's american childrens show style of comedy which can come off as uncomfortably cruel/annoying if you aren't ok with it. it's also an early years CGI animated show, so sometimes things don't look as good as they could. STILL it's definitely interesting and i like the dynamics between the brothers there so I'd give it a chance.

TMNT 2003 series. honestly i havent heard a lot about this one, but i really like the style and ive watched a few episodes of it, and it's definitely solid, sorry i can't say much more than that.

TMNT 1987 series. also can't say much about this one but it is hella goofy from what i've watched of it. it's also the original cartoon series i believe, airing as a sort of "saturday morning cartoon" situation.

TMNT 1990 movie. this one is part of a trilogy of tmnt movies, but i've only seen the first and a half movies. I really enjoyed the first one, it was a fun time and kind of campy, and the guy who plays casey jones is cute. this one is live action and the turtle costumes can look off putting to some people, but personally i liked them.

im sure people in the replies/reblogs of this post will add their opinions too haha

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Yo! Gotta say it dude

I love your writing, headcanons n AUs, trust me whenever I got the chance to catch a look on this phone screen I hop on tumblr and read smth from u fr, thank u for saving me and lot of ppl who follow ur acc from boredom and other things.

Buuuuut I also got a little request here, ofc if u don't mind,

So I'm sorta obsessed with 2p'hetalia , especially with 2p Russia(and ig that's obvious lol), can ya write some more about Viktor braginsky(2p russia), like literally anything you want.. I just wanna read anything about that man 😩🤌🏼 - ash the salad🥗💜

Again thank you <3

Honestly, I love having my ask box open. The majority of y’all are giving me the will to live sometimes. I hope this does not disappoint. Enjoy! :) 

2p Russia during Spooky Season Headcannons

He’s likely written down plot 5,769 to torment and kill 2p America in one of the many journals he keeps. [Al pranked Viktor again by egging his house, teepeeing it, and also having a well-covered pitfall that Viktor fell into and broke his arm] 

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit. Stupid American has to pay piper.” 

Viktor either likes to serve his Karma cold like the ice tundra he was born into, or he’ll make a Rube Goldberg-like machine that seems to have an anti-climactic end, only to have it be devastating. The delayed devastation will be something that fucks all up Al so much to where he will have to reincarnate his entire body, not to mention the fucking recovery time will be a month or so. [For perspective, it takes at least 24 hours-78 hours (usually) for any nation to recover if they’ve been fatally injured]

Night owl. Viktor enjoys the solace of the night. This works for him since being around too many people or just people, in general, annoys and drains him. Since it’s Fall, sunlight is far more scarce. Viktor will also enjoy strolls through the forest under the guidance of the moonlight if, for whatever reason, he’s unable to sleep or concentrate on any task he needs to complete or a hobby of his. 

Viktor loves going to movie theatres when they’re mostly empty. He goes to see the yearly installment of whatever popular horror movie is out. On occasion, he will be impressed by a breakout masterpiece or some film director's magnum opus, which will make him want to rewatch a movie. [By rewatch, I mean it’s background noise for him while he knits, does chores, or cooks.] 

Viktor knows of the best-hidden libraries and bookshops and the best Halloween displays for the top books of the season. He likes to pick his top 5 and read through them to see which ones are the best and rank them in his journals. 

The dude can carve some intricate pumpkins. I’m talking about hyperrealistic-looking monsters from Russian folklore. Viktor even carves other things such as ghoulish faces, eyes, and ghosts [that somehow he made to look translucent with just a candle and his X-ACTO knife.] These will be the main decorations that adorn his house.  

Some of his other favorite decorations are spiders and their webs. 

He will always dress as the Grim Reaper because he has bright scarlet eyes, a menacing demeanor, and a terrifying aura. Plus, with the hood obscuring half of his face…. Yeah, his citizens know full well he’s not to be fucked with. [unless you really just give no fucks and don’t have a vested interest in having a quality of life or…being alive] 

In the bar Viktor frequents, the owner had cut a deal with him: Be here in Sept & Oct dressed as the Grim Reaper and let people trouble him for a picture, and he gets paid in any Vodka he can drink for the night, his own special place in the bar that won’t be crowded by people, and fifty Rubes per hour. To Viktor, it's not a bad deal. The owner even had a scythe commissioned to be made with Sterling Silver to make sure he could look as accurate as the Grim Reaper as possible. 

On the actual day of Halloween in the morning [3:33 am], he’ll throw a dart at the map of his nation and where it lands will be where he seeks out a mystic babushka to get his fortune read.

[bruciemilf]

My favorite Damian headcanons (as a POC myself) are the ones where he does POC things that're incredibly niche but also very widespread POC experiences

Commenting on how horror movies have no realistic people of color because otherwise they'd last less than ten minutes.

Responding with "is it because I'm not white" to every single criticism.

Bruce tries to get him to wear a suit and he's like "😐 I can't believe you're erasing my culture like this".

Jason calls him a demon and he tells Bruce Jason called him a slur because of where he comes from.

Refusing to try anything American he doesn't like because "I was raised with actual class".

Assuming it's a lie when Bruce says he can be whatever he wants in the future because come on now. He isn't a fool.

Saying American food is bland because he's used to food that scorches his tastebuds

Not believing in God but using religious phrases, calling his siblings faithless/godless when they annoy him, and rejecting atheism thoroughly because religion is a huge part of POC culture.

Saying "I would've been sent back to the Motherland for that behavior" whenever his siblings act out of line. It's not even necessarily true, but it's genuinely just a reflex

Joking about being beaten as a child because it's a POC bonding experience and backtracking when people freak out because no he wasn't actually hit (only a rap on the knuckles every now and then and the usual POC mother verbal abuse), it's a joke, he was joking.

Doing something dumb like sneaking out and halfway through realizing "oh my God this is white person behavior. I'm being whitewashed" and getting himself back in line

Automatically responding with "aren't you mixed?" to "yeah, but not mixed with stupid like you are"

Being awed and slightly disturbed on how much people just get away with in predominantly white homes

Being the "well behaved child" even with his bad temper because yes, he's spoiled, but he's also fully aware that he won't get away with half the shit he does if he was with his mother and enjoys his still-new freedom

^ And these are some of the general POC experiences, not to speak of the Arab-specific ones! People need to give this boy more POC trauma!

I LOVE THESE!! am not a POC so I don't have much to add; I do, however, love making fun of white people, and I'm passing that off to Damian. He sees Steph eat like, greek yogurt, and is like "i had no idea you liked spicy food. Getting adventurous, are we?"

[archiveikemen]

Xeno Main Story: Chapter 4

Premium Avatar Challenge

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

To buy myself clothes for the party… I rushed out onto the streets. 

After browsing through a few branded stores, I finally picked a beautiful outfit. 

(This doesn’t look weird, right? The store assistant said that it suits me.) 

(So that I don’t diminish the outfit’s beauty, I must put more effort into doing my makeup…!) 

I suppressed my nervousness and sat in front of the vanity mirror.

…

Rina: I’ve kept you waiting, Xeno-san. 

Xeno: … [poker face]

Xeno-san turned around and his eyes slightly widened as he stared at me in silence. 

(… So this does look weird on me.) 

Rina: Um, how do I look? Is this suitable for a party? 

Xeno: … Well, it won’t get you removed from the venue. 

Rina: Which means…? 

Xeno: It’s not half bad. 

(… That’s a compliment, I guess?) 

(I’m glad I put effort into dressing up…) 

Xeno: By the way, Aegis. There’s still some time before we head to the venue, but there’s something important I forgot to ask. 

Rina: What is it? 

Xeno: Can you dance? 

Rina: D-dance? No, I can’t. 

Xeno: … I knew this would happen. 

I was surprised to hear that. 

(Now that I think of it, movies often show men and women dancing together at parties.) 

The blood instantly drained from my face. 

Rina: W-what do we do…!? 

Xeno: Well, there are different kinds of parties. Not all of them will definitely involve dancing. 

Xeno: It’ll be a problem if we have to dance later. … Now let’s go. 

Xeno-san grabbed my arm and walked out. 

Rina: W-where are we going?

Xeno: Just come with me. 

… 

I was brought to the lesson room where the members usually had their practice sessions. 

Xeno: This is a special training before we head off. 

Xeno: At American parties, most of the time as long as you somehow move to the music, you’ll be able to get away with not knowing how to dance. 

Xeno: However, it’s different when it comes to couple dancings between a man and woman. If you don’t at least know the basics, everyone can tell you’re an amateur. 

Rina: I- I thought as much. 

Xeno: I will never allow that from my partner. 

Xeno: A last minute crash course is better than nothing. 

Xeno: Just in case we have to dance together, I’m going to drill the basics into you right now. Prepare yourself. 

The fierce look on Xeno-san’s face was basically saying that he wasn’t taking no for an answer…

(… I have no other choice!)

Rina: Understood. Please guide me well! 

I responded determinedly. 

Xeno: We shall start immediately. 

Xeno-san scooped up my hand. 

Rina: ! 

With movement as fluid as the flow of water, his other hand went around my back.  

Rina: Ah… 

From the moment we met, Xeno-san and I had only been this close to each other a handful of things; for instance, him catching me when I was about to fall. 

(But this is the first time we’re close-up face to face…) 

Xeno-san’s handsome face was right in front of mine, making my heart go into a frenzy. 

I could feel the warmth from his arm wrapped firmly around my back. Our faces were so close, our breaths touched..

Xeno: This is the most basic formation. We remain like this throughout the dance, so don’t let go. 

Rina: G-got it. 

(… What am I thinking? Focus, Rina! I’ll embarrass Xeno-san if I don’t remember what he’s teaching me.) 

I resisted the urge to become overly conscious and focused on what he was saying. 

Xeno: The steps are simple, you’ll instantly be able to memorise them once you get used to them. 

Xeno: Start with front, front, sideways. Then back, back, sideways. Then front, back, sideways… 

Xeno-san carefully guided me.

But I was unable to keep up, and stepped on his foot countless times because of my nervousness and panicking.

Rina: I’M SO SORRY! I stepped on your foot again…!

Xeno: … You seriously have two left feet. / … You really are awful at dancing. 

Rina: Sorry… 

Xeno: You’ve been focusing only on your feet since just now. Doing that will ruin your form. 

Rina: But I can’t remember the steps… 

Xeno: While I did say not to embarrass yourself, I never said you had to dance flawlessly. Dance isn’t so easy to perfect.

Xeno: You only have to be my dance partner and make it seem like we have chemistry. 

Rina: Chemistry? 

Xeno: That’s right. Dancing while trembling in fear because you’re overly conscious of your surroundings makes you look clumsy. 

Xeno: Even if you’re unskilled, dancing with confidence and good synchronisation can also impress onlookers. 

Xeno: So keep your head up, Aegis. 

Xeno-san tugged my waist and brought me closer. 

Rina: ! 

As compared to our formations so far, our bodies were even closer to each other. 

He cupped my cheek with one hand and lifted my face, I held my breath as our gazes met. 

Xeno: After all, you’re probably just thinking about whether your dancing is good or some other thing above your level. 

Rina: You’re right about that… it’s because I don’t want to embarrass you. 

Xeno: Like I said, you’re overthinking.

Xeno: As long as you’re with me, as your dance partner, I’ll never let you make a fool of yourself. 

Xeno: I’ll lead you and cover any mistakes you make. It’s no big deal.

Rina: Xeno-san… 

Xeno: All you have to do is turn your face up and look at me, your partner. 

The look in his eyes was powerful and intense, I felt like I was about to be pulled in. 

Xeno: Don’t get more worked up than necessary. Just keep your eyes on me and trust me. Understand? 

Rina: … I understand. I’ll try. 

Xeno: Good. 

Xeno: Okay. One more time. 

Xeno-san got into position for the dance once again. 

(… Unbelievable. This feels easier than before.) 

I looked up, focused my eyes on him, entrusted myself to him, and let my body move on its own.  

(This way, I’ll somehow be able to dance at the party.) 

… After that, we kept practising until it was time to go.

(He’s a strict teacher, but… perhaps, there’s no dance partner more reliable than he is.) 

That was how I thought. 

[aspiringwriter1111]

Hallmark PSA

I know since it's coming on the holiday season, I'm going to start seeing a lot of Hallmark slander.

But here's a little known fact.

Hallmark is actually really really good.

WAIT WAIT DON'T LEAVE-

Let me explain!

The movies people usually associate Hallmark with are the "old" ones (2020 and back). I bet after seeing how cliche and unhealthy they were, you didn't see a reason to watch them again after that, am I right??

But you knew them well enough to know they weren't worth your time and sanity.

Girl in a high stress job goes to small town, learns the meaning of Christmas, and then cheats on her also stressed out boyfriend back in the city with a hot cocoa making stubbly kind of rude lumberjack man then quits her job and moves to Vermont or something.

Yeah, they don't do those anymore.

At all.

I'm serious.

A part of it is that there was a purge. A year or two ago, there was a new Christmas movie company in town. All the actors that didn't like the forward direction Hallmark wanted to go in, left and joined GAC.

(Great American Family, or as I like to call it GACK. The movies are exclusively awful old Hallmark style, but Republican, badly decorated, very white, and also much worse.)

GAC took all the problems away from Hallmark, and made movies out of them. Hallmark, now cleansed, is pumping out cinematic greats that I WILL be rewatching every Christmas.

The whole of Hallmark was Recast, save for the best of the best fan favorites (Like Lacey Chaubert-)

They have plus sized actors now and people of color, cast as main characters on a regular basis.

Half of the movies aren't even romance centric anymore, instead focused on life, and moving forward, but when they are, they're really well done, and actually healthy.

If you know me (which you don't), then you'll know I hate unhealthy relationships. Especially when they're treated like they're okay. I will pick apart ANYTHING over toxicity in a relationship, wherever that might come from.

I used to hate Hallmark movies, because they were predictable, unrealistic, flawed, and toxic.

But now the characters talk with each other, and they don't get in the others space without permission. If there's an accident and it does happen, it's not used as a plot device to move the relationship along. It's not treated in a "OMG hot guy is literally right in my face!!! I've only known him two minutes and I hate him, I'm in love!!"

It's more of an, "OMG I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that at all, im so sorry, I'm so sorry- *Immediately backs away*"

I can't even begin to explain how much better they are now.

To further prove my point, here are some gifs of Three Wise Men and a Baby, one of my favorite Christmas movies ever:

Just listen to this one.

It's about three brothers, one of which is a firefighter (this is important). A baby gets dropped off at the fire station, with a note. The firefighters name is on it, asking him to look after the baby until Christmas.

This is not his baby.

This IS a joke throughout the entire film.

They have no idea who dropped him off.

So they end up taking care of him for a week, and seriously bonding with him. The make his first Christmas ornament with clay, they do a holiday photo dressed to the nines.

They talk about how hard it is to actually take care of a baby, and how hard it must have been for their mom doing it alone.

Talking about how their own dad left, and finally processing that trauma together.

Their mom confesses that if she didn't have support, she may have done what the babies mother did. How she must be going through such a rough patch, and building empathy for her.

All three of the brothers go on complete cathartic emotional journeys about it, and all the other issues in their life.

I can't do it justice.

It's called Three Wise Men and A Baby. I'm begging you please go watch it, you will NOT regret it.

I CRIED SO MANY TIMES YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

I'm tearing up now just thinking about it oh my gOD-

The ending just sent it home for me, so I won't spoil anything.

Its amazing. I can't explain the whole thing, I seriously beg you please go watch it.

And, if you're more into comedy, I present to you Haul out The Holly:

A Christmas comedy starring your very own Gretchen Weiners!! Abso-fucking-lutley HILARIOUS.

It's about a woman, just broken up with her boyfriend, and coaxed into going home for the holidays. Here's where it gets interesting.

Her parents are the head of the Christmas neighborhood watch, something that has plagued her since childhood. Her childhood friend has now taken over the position, as her parent ditch her for retirement on a beach someplace, and she's left stuck, having to decorate against her will.

She wants a nap. The neighbors want her to carve ice sculptures. And her nutcracker apparently isn't up to code.

Includes: Girlboss and male wife power duo (madly in love), insane chainsaw man with way too much time on his hands, the ML an anxious wreck, and many, many, MANY MORE.

Another recent movie was built around a woman who is an astronaut (She's mixed) who was about to finally go to space (The goal shes been working on her entire life) She got into a car accident and her eyesight was impaired. She's currently grieving the loss of her dream (like, actually grieving, she took three months off-).

Her company asks her if she wants to do an exhibit in the planetarium for Christmas, that she doesn't have to, but she can if she wants to take her minds off of things. She says yes, and ends up working with the planetarium director on an exhibit about the sun and it's connection to Christmas through how people used to celebrate with the sun (I don't remember exactly, but it was explained thoroughly, and i think pagan???)

She and him don't constantly argue, or be angry at each other. They cooperate. They show genuine interest in each other. It's actually adorable, and it's also not just about them.

She meets his daughter, who is a wheelchair user. She asks why the Female lead isn't in space if she's an astronaut, and the FL tell her it's because of her eyes. The daughter tells her it's okay, because she'll never be able to go to space either, even if she wants to, but she can still enjoy it from Earth.

I'm not even doing it justice.

By the end of the movie, the FLs eye problem doesn't heal. Nothing is miraculously solved. But the ML and the FL are now dating (After the best, slow paced, healthy, communicative, collaborative bonding freaking ever-) ALL OF THE CHARACTERS HAVE FULL BLOWN EMOTIONAL JOURNEYS THAT ACTUALLY MATTER.

SHE GRIEVES.

HER BROTHER FINALLY FIGURES OUT ITS OKAY FOR HIM TO DO WHAT HE LOVES, AND THAT HE'S NOT A FAILURE FOR IT.

THE ML LET'S GO OF THINKING HES A BAD PARENT.

AND MORE.

There are soft bits, nothing is cliche, nothing is icky or gross.

It's healthy, it's cute, it's emotionally driven, I'm actually learning about things I didn't know before, and amazing.

And all the new ones are either like this or better than this. I could name over ten, but I can't even explain how good they are.

Some of the are still a little dark ages, but it's only every one out of six or seven.

Hallmark movies from 2022 and onwards are 5 star television, and you can't convince me otherwise.

[homestuckreplay]

matthew mcconaughey was homestuck before homestuck was cool

Continuing through John's McConaughey wall, I just squeezed some time out of my sleep schedule to watch Failure to Launch. Unlike John, I tend to enjoy romcoms especially from the early to mid 2000s - even though I usually don't like the values and worldviews in them - and it met my expectations in being a great hour and a half that definitely won't stick with me long term.

It's about parent and child relationships again, and this is the most on the nose one yet. The main character, Tripp, lives with his parents and refuses to leave despite being a Cool and Normal Guy(tm) because a tragic past has left him stuck, unable to fully develop into what white American society thinks an adult should be. This is both John right now and John's fear of his future - he struggles enough living at home at 13 and must be terrified of still living there at 35, and he's already scared about the aspects of life he might be missing out on. He knows that in theory his house is nice and has everything he needs, but he sees his own life the way other characters in the movie see Tripp's - like there's something wrong with him for not having more.

John sees himself as Tripp, but let's be real. He's probably more similar to the other men Paula convinces to move out of their parents' homes, like the guy who's obsessed with the Star Wars original trilogy. I wonder if John doesn't like "chick flicks" because they tend to promote "normalcy" and the status quo - the main characters all settling down into conventional, heterosexual relationships and fulfilling traditional 'life milestones' by the end, no matter how quirky they were at the start. The characters who don't fit into this are generally laughed at and sidelined. I don't think John sees either of these as a great option.

This is the first post-2000 movie of John's I've seen, coming out only three years ago. It's an outlier, because there's no way John's dad showed him this one. Dad wouldn't want to suggest that he'd ever kick John out the house or resent him for being there. John definitely watched this when it came to DVD because of his McConaughey crush and accidentally got filled with existential anxiety by mistake.

Also, the family in this movie lives in house number 420. Hoping and praying that the Egberts have a funny number house too.

MOVIES WATCHED: 6/11

MOST RECENT MOVIE: Failure to Launch (2006) - Rating 7/10

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

hi mara,

i was wondering what your favorite books are, anything you've derived inspiration from. or any books you'd recommend to others!

take care

hi anonymous, good morning;

soft promotion but i usually write a little about what i:m currently reading in my end-of-month internet-sin paywall posts on substack -- but i:d also probably just tell you if asked;

any-ways, when i was really young i:d try to read a book-a-day both because 1) i had absolutely nothing to do 2) i thought that by reading as many classic/erudite texts as i could, that i:d become super smart; but i burnt out on reading because of these two things! and because of being burnt out, i have a huuuuuuuge amount of gratitude to the book version of "howl:s moving castle," because i think i picked it up on a whim (before the movie was out, even, i think), and read it, and it just made me fall in love with reading -- and the idea of reading for pleasure, instead of trying to make myself smart and cultured. was just so enamored with that book; read it through every period in HS and in that huge dullness i:d have afterschool (i slept out in a car from 2~7 typically; no friends and no where to go)--just couldn:t put it down, felt so real. zero idea if it holds up, and i refuse to re-read it, but i /loved/ that book and it:s always what comes to mind when someone asks me my favorite book (side-note: i thought the movie was trash; i don:t like ghibli stuff though).

inspirational stuff, though, i:ll use more recent examples! (mostly because it:s easier to remember this stuff); i really adore flannery o'connor and her short-story "the lame shall enter first" largely helped me deal with some of my obsessiveness at adhering to my behavioral etiquette 'perfectly' -- there are these two characters: an older atheist who is doing his very best to behave perfectly and empathetically and understandingly; & a crippled thieving rude christian boy that has fallen into the care of the prior character; any-who, the christian boy admits he has not been saved and that his soul belongs to satan, and tells the adult that he won:t bother being saved till he is ready to live whole-heartedly clean -- and that there is no point in attempting to act perfect (as the adult were trying) as no-one is perfect except christ; the story illustrates the lesson better, but it just made me loosen up on some of my behavioral rules and etiquette in regards to bacterial will and religious law. plus, flannery is a /beautiful/ writer.

then more briefly, i:d toss in cormac and shirley jackson -- cormac:s "outer dark" just really impressed me with how excellent he describes environments and just how /real/ he wrote "the three figures" towards the later half of that story, i love the outer dark so much; shirley jackson, too, just this month i read "we have always lived in the castle" and the maturity of her writers voice just struck me with how concisely bitter it were, and i just thought: wow, this is like the prototypical femcel hiki blueprint, and wow: this story is like the deconstructed magical girl genre before it ever existed, and as it could only exist in the mind of a shut-in agoraphobic american woman in her sixties (i think she was that old at the time of writing, i forget). i:m reading "the secret history" atm and also really loving that, because donna tartt is ace at pacing a story & capturing the feeling of "being left at a dorm for winter alone," and just scene/moments in general -- just super enjoying it :-)). then for more religious stuff that:d make people groan: i like LRH, and mary eddy baker, and ellen g white, and like reading all of them, and usually am left with a sparkling feeling after reading any.

and that:s it! i don:t want to name too many books because it:d water stuff down in meaning. take care, anonymous :-))