#god this is such a voyeuristic shot

[aduckwithears]

The candlelight, the intimacy, the hands on the table almost touching...

[fellhellion]

men will never fail to review perfect blue and not interogate how integral misogyny is to understanding the film's critique of idealisation (and by extension, idol culture for women specifically)

[j-a-nuary]

Thoughts on perv BFF Kim Seungmin

Warnings: suggestive/not explicit but lots of implications, an inclination towards pet-play, collars, voyeuristic tendencies, general creep-itude (obviously, that's why it says "perv" in the title)

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Makes fun of you for liking lattes, but make you them anyway. Always adds way more whipped cream than necessary and calls it your “pup cup” when he brings it to you. Watches a little too closely to the way you lap up the topping with your tongue. He's honestly just torturing himself because now he's stuck in his seat until he can calm down again.

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He always jokes around by calling you his puppy. “What a messy puppy,” he murmurs while pointing out you have whipped cream on your cheek. “What a good puppy,” he smiles when you get a good performance review. “Come on, puppy! Come here, girl!” He laughs, urging you to hurry up when he picks you up from work.

Switches to calling you a dog when he's annoyed. “You're like a dog in heat,” he scoffs when you tell him about your preparations for an upcoming date. “You're drooling like a dog,” when you mention an actor you think is handsome.

Mysteriously disappears into the nearest bathroom for fifteen minutes when you play into the nickname. He starts blushing and rushes away when you come up to him and say “I'm on my good girl shit! The puppy got a raise!” He excuses it by saying you were being embarrassing.

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Buys you a beautiful choker with the cutest locket on it for your birthday. You think it's cute and immediately spin, facing away from him and urging him to put it on you. Thank god. He can feel himself sweating as he does so.

Jeongin calls him out later on.

“That's a goddamn day collar!”

Seungmin shrugs, stepping on Jeongin’s foot to make him shut up before you're back in earshot.

“You don't know shit. How do you know what that is?”

Jeongin pipes down because he does not want to explain how he knows.

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Becomes the world's clumsiest cooking companion around you. Constantly dropping things and asking you to pick them up, claiming he's too sore from practice. Will accidentally kick whatever it is under the edges of furniture, so you have to get on your hands and knees. Uses the opportunity to stare at your ass and steal peeks down your shirt, mentally storing the images away for later that night.

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Buys an additional smartphone while abroad so he can take photos without the shutter sound. Sure, he might have been able to jailbreak his Korean phone, but he just happened to be with Hyunjin while he was looking at electronics on tour, and the phone was just… there.

Starts carefully: blurry photos that are half covered by the fabric of his sweater sleeves or pants pocket. He can sort of discern how your chest looks in a sailor collared shirt. There's a suggestion of thighs in a pair of shorts.

Slowly gets bolder. The photos get clearer. He sneaks a photo almost every time he has the opportunity. Obvious shots down your shirt, mostly taken when he's standing behind you when you sit down. A hundred different shots angled sort of between your legs, all taken under tables when he sits across from you. Just a few scant photos lit only by flash where he carefully tugs a bit of your pajamas out of the way during pre- and post-tour sleepovers.

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He even tries reading fanfiction and using find+replace to put your name in (an idea he gets from Han, of course). It sort of works. For a little while. He bookmarks a few favorites for when he's truly desperate.

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Stray Kids Masterlist

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2022, Day 3: Candaulism

Find Your Own

Summary:  Nick loves when you beg, almost as much as he enjoys showing you off

Pairings:  Nick Vaughan X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, teasing, degradation, filming, shoe riding, squirting, mentions of stepcest, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  800

Candaulism is a sexual practice or fantasy in which a man exposes his female partner, or images of her, to other people for their voyeuristic pleasure.

Previous

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Nick brings the camera closer, panning it over your body. His fingers randomly dragging on your skin, and he tsks you when you try to move, “Easy, Sweetheart, we gotta see what this beautiful body of yours looks like.”

Zooming in and lingering on your weeping cunt, he runs one finger up your slit gathering your sweet nectar. “My god, you’re drenched. Who made you that way?”

“You did, baby,” your voice whines, and he captures your walls clenching around nothing. “Nicky!”

“Shh, shh, shh. Now I said you have to be patient. I don’t think you want my cock,” he looks down at you with a smirk, and you nod your head. “I don’t know, you have been misbehaving.”

“I can be good! So good, I swear! Daddy?” you give him a pout trying to make him give into your incessant whining to no avail. “Daddy, please?”

“How bad do you want my cock to split you wide open? Have your head banging on the headboard while you gasp for air? Fuck you so hard you pass out on me?”

“I’ll do anything! Just please?”

“Will you fuck anything?” he pans the camera up to your pouting face. “Will you show daddy how desperate you are for his cock?”

“What do you want me to fuck?”

Nick sits down in a chair and gives his shoe a little wiggle. “Let’s show everyone just how fucking desperate you are for my cock. Come on. Show them what a fucking needy little cockslut you are for me,” crawling on all fours, you move off the bed and over towards him.

With a little wiggle of your ass, you settle around his foot, your body grinding over him, while that camera points to the mirror. “There ya go. I can already tell you’re making such a mess on my shoe, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you pant out, smiling at the mirror. “I’m a whore for daddy’s cock.  A desperate filthy whore for daddy’s cock.”

“You gonna let me share you with them?” you give a little nod, rolling your hips over his shoe. Your voice whimpers out his name, and you stare up at him owlishly.

“Of course you’ll let me share.  This little slut baby will do whatever I tell her just so she can have daddy’s cock, huh?”

“Uh huh,” you cry out looking up at him.

“Is my dirty and needy girl getting close?” you nod your head, your body writhing desperately on him. “Look at you, got you making a mess, and acting like a sloppy whore because you need me to fuck you. I bet you’d fuck the bedpost if it meant you’d get me. Needy little bitch.”

“Daddy,” you sob looking up at him. Pushing and pulling on his foot, begging to get some relief when you furrow your brows. “Daddy, please?”

“Cum,” one roll of your hips has you trembling. You back arching up, when you let yourself go. Looking up at him and apologizing. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

“I think I…daddy, I’m sorry,” he picks you up off the floor, letting you lay back on the bed, and you know better than to close your legs. His camera points at the liquid mess in the floor.

“Aw, did my needy cockslut make a mess on daddy’s shoe? Look, her got a bit carried away and squirted all in the floor. That pussy is dripping in cum. You want me to fill it up with my cum?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Give the boys a smile,” you wave at the camera smiling, when Nick finally puts the camera down.

“What the hell is this fucking shit?” Ransom asks, kicking his foot up. “No money shot? None of those tits bouncing around? She road your fucking shoe?”

“I think you did very well. The purpose is her need for you. She was compliant and ready to please her man. You’ve done well my friend,” Ransom rolls his eyes watching as the coordinator walks out the room.

“He wanted to see some dick, too. So are you really going to share her?”

“Maybe,” Nick shrugs, flipping through his pictures of you with his cock in your mouth. Lips dripping of saliva as you take him. He was getting rock hard and just wanted to pound into you.

“It’s not the prospect of sharing her that turns me on. It’s the fact that she will do whatever I say just for a bit of my cock. I have her humping a pillow nearly daily, just to lick my cock. Now that is dedication.”

“Fuck,” the man in the back grunts. “I need to find a desperate girl to suck my cock.  Looks like I’m gonna have to find Bug again. Gotta love when sweet little step sister lets me play,” Lloyd stands, straightening his slacks. “I appreciate your kink though. A man willing to share and let us see his woman, is a man completely secure in his relationship, that’s a good one. Let me know if you need help.”

“I’m good for now. Find your own.”

Next

Masterlist

[whatsnewalycat]

Just Dumb Enough to Try

Chapter 2: Loaded

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Binge drinking, recreational cannabis use, mention of cocaine use, smoking, swearing, nsfw, dirty talk, movie nerd shit, end of season 2 canon, attempts at humor, vulnerable Javi, touch-starved reader, hookup culture, PIV sex, unprotected sex, cheating kind of, use of daddy in a sexual context

Summary: In 1993, you met Javier Peña in San Antonio. You made an emotional and physical connection with him. Now it's 1998 and you're starting a new chapter of life in Laredo with your fiancé. And who else walks back into the picture, but the man who left you high and dry five years ago.

Notes: Music is a big inspiration in writing this, so I'm making a Spotify playlist for each chapter. Playlist for this chapter. I really wanted to make something where Javi can be soft, vulnerable, goofy, etc. Because CUTE. I've written a few chapters ahead and cross-posted on AO3 here. Let me know what ya think!! Pls be gentle because this is my first attempt at fan fiction in ages.

Chapter 1

Apartment #303, Timberhill Commons, San Antonio, TX

December 1, 1993 

In addition to going to school full time to get your master’s degree in education, you work at a video rental store, which you both love and hate. You love it because you get to talk to people about movies. You hate it because your social battery runs dry quickly. So on nights like this, when everyone and their mother is coming in to rent movies, you are completely depleted by the time you clock out. 

You’ve been sitting in your car staring up at your apartment for 10 minutes. There’s a particular neon OPEN sign illuminating your living room that Michelle only turns on when she is throwing a party. She didn’t tell you anything about a party, so you’re dreading what you’ll find when you open the door. There’s weed and a tiny bit of coke in your room that you’ve been saving for a rainy day. Today is that day. You take a deep breath in and exit the vehicle. 

Even before you reach your door, you’re relieved to know you’ve grossly overestimated how many people are in the apartment. It’s just about as quiet as any other night. In fact, when you open the door, there’s nobody in the common areas. Michelle’s radio and the very obvious sounds of sex are emanating from behind her closed door. You wander over to the neon light to shut it off. There’s a bottle of whiskey (emptied halfway) and two shot glasses on the table. 

You stare at the setup for a bit, contemplating whether or not to take a shot yourself. Considering how dead inside you’re feeling, in combination with the soundtrack of Michelle getting railed, it’s pretty easy to decide.

Fuck it. 

After filling both glasses to the brim, you take one, then the other, and grimace. If you have to hang out with another fucking weirdo- Not that Javier was weird, he was actually pretty nice but whatever- god help you, you aren’t going to be sober for it. You fight your body’s urge to send the liquor back out your mouth. Once the warmth settles in your belly, you go into your room, change out of your work clothes, into an oversized black and white striped sweater and a pair of black bike shorts. You stretch out on your full-sized bed next to the rolling tray to roll a joint. 

Thankfully, the radio playing in Chelle’s room mostly mutes the heavy panting and wet slapping noises she’s making with her friend, but you keep having flashbacks of making yourself cum to those sounds two nights ago. It made you feel… decidedly uncomfortable with yourself. But you’ve always had a voyeuristic hunger that you feed occasionally. 

Regardless, you’d like to tune it out today. You put the headphones of your portable CD player on and press play. The world melts away as you spark your joint and listen to Primal Scream’s Loaded. 

Just what is it that you want to do? 

Well, we wanna be free to do what we wanna do. 

And we wanna get loaded.

And we wanna have a good time. 

You’re completely elevated, staring at the popcorn ceiling above your bed as you sway your head and hands to the music. The two shots of whiskey are helping you feel loose. The tensions of being around too many humans for too long while working start to fade away. 

After you have some time to fully zone out and decompress, you’re ready to join the land of the living. You pull your headphones off to listen to your surroundings, confirming that Michelle and her guest have migrated back into the living room. 

You consider staring at the ceiling for the rest of the night instead of emerging, but you think it’s actually Javier you hear. This piques your interest. He and Michelle obviously have a “thing” going on, but you can’t help but have a crush on him. Whenever you think about the tender way he held your hand, which has happened more often in the past 2 days than you’d like to admit, a wistful smile plays on your lips. 

I’ll just go say hi and have a drink with them. 

As soon as you open your bedroom door, it becomes apparent that you need to drink much more in order to chill with them. Michelle is sitting practically on top of Javier on the couch, essentially screaming into his face, telling him a story about one of her clients at the hair salon. He’s giggling.

Fucking giggling, seriously?

“Jesus Christ how much have you two been drinking?” you grab a shot glass from the kitchen then join them in the living room, sitting on the floor across the coffee table.  

“OH MY GOD, BABE,” Michelle hollers at you, noticing your presence, then continues to slur, “Javi and I were playing ‘never have I ever’ but taking shots instead of sips.” 

Your eyes involuntarily flick to Javier’s face when she says Javi and you make eye contact. This is the first time you’ve seen him in a fully lit room, and it really didn’t help this whole crush thing. He has the warmest dark brown eyes. His entire presence is warm, which you find surprising because when you met him, initially he seemed to be much more… intense and intimidating. His face is flushed; clearly he and Michelle have been drinking heavily for some time. 

Your eyes meet and he has a goofy smile, so you can’t help but fucking beam. What a cutie.

“I guess I have some catching up to do… Or, is it ok if I hang out with you two or are you trying to be all uh…” you falter and look down at the floor to hide that you’re blushing, “on a date or something? I don’t want to intrude.” 

“Babe, please, join us,” Michelle insists and looks from you to Javi. 

He adds in a teasing tone, “Yeah, babe, we’d love a third.”

And the fucker winks at you. Your entire face starts radiating heat because of how hard you’re blushing. You know that was his goal. He’s just picking on you. But you let your mind wander to the concept of being their third for one second… 

And snap out of it before your heart beats out of your chest. 

“Fuck off,” You snort at him as you pour a shot. He feigns offense. You swallow the whiskey while rolling your eyes. 

The three of you played two rounds of “never have I ever” (like teenagers), in which Javier discloses he has not done cocaine like you and Michelle, which is fine. But then casually mentions that he is a DEA agent and is home on leave from his assignment in Columbia, where he’s trying to arrest Pablo fucking Escobar. 

“Shut the fuck up. Are you serious?” You ask loudly in your outside (drunk) voice. He nods. 

Michelle leans in towards him and coos, “That’s actually really sexy.”

A hollow laugh escapes him. He focuses on the floor and appears… haunted. There’s an awkward silence. You sense he didn’t really mean for it to come up, and doesn’t want to talk about it further. This tugs at your heart strings. He lights up a cigarette. Michelle sprawls back onto the couch, laying her legs across Javier’s lap. 

A silence settles and you get the feeling the game is over. 

“I brought home ‘The Thing’ if you guys want to watch it.” You suggest meekly. Michelle doesn’t like movies as much as you. But if you’re being honest, it isn’t really her reaction you’re seeking. 

She turns her head towards you and scoffs, “Oh my god. No, we don’t want to watch your lame ass movies.”

You feel a stab of rejection and frown.

Well that was unnecessary.  

Being in a state of intoxication, you’re unable to reason with your insecurities. Tears well up in your eyes, so you excuse yourself to go take a shower. The hot water pours from your head down your body. The noise and warmth consume you and you’re lost in its trance. You have a chance to relax and review your emotional situation.

Usually, you watch movies alone. Michelle hates them for some reason, especially the horror movies you like to watch. Which really isn't a problem most of the time. You ultimately decide you feel embarrassed that you wanted to watch it with Javier, and Michelle’s comment was just searing enough to make you feel like a loser for suggesting it. 

The Thing is one of your favorite movies, so you love showing it to people. And now, in retrospect, it sounds so silly. A guy is here specifically to spend time with your roommate, and you’re upset because they don’t want to watch a movie with you. 

There’s just this compulsion pulling you toward Javi. You think he might feel it, but you also think he could just have that effect on women. Maybe the living room is vacated because you actually want to watch The Thing after smoking another joint, cocooned into your favorite blanket on the couch. 

Once you’re out of the shower, you skitter from the bathroom to your bedroom. You get dressed, roll a joint, put your glasses on, and tiptoe into the living room, dragging your comforter behind you. Javier is there, perched on the couch, but no Michelle in sight. A bolt of panic shoots through you.

“Did Chelle go to bed?” You ask, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch and pulling your comforter up around you. When you gather the courage to look over at him, his eyebrows are knit together and the corners of his mouth are downturned. 

“Yeah I brought her to bed a little bit ago. She was falling asleep,” he scratches his face then meets your eyes, “Are you ok?” 

Your whole body tenses slightly, you nod quickly, then start rambling, “Yeah, I’m fine! I’m just… drunk. And I was being emotional because I’m drunk. It’s totally fine. I know she doesn’t like movies that much, I- I don’t know why I asked.” 

“It was rude of her to say that to you,” he says softly, “You don’t deserve that.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it to be so harsh, I guess,” you nuzzle into your comforter and gesture to the joint, “Do you mind if I-?

He frowns and shakes his head. 

“Do you want..?” you offer the joint up to him after lighting it. He chuckles and shakes his head some more. 

Offer a joint to the narc, yes, perfect. 

He leans forward, puts his elbows on his knees, and fidgets his hands a little, “So uhh… The Thing?” 

“What thing?” You blink. 

A wide grin breaks out onto his face, “No, the movie-“

“Oh Jesus Christ, duh!” You cackle. Your laugh echoes off the walls but you don’t try to muffle it. 

Who gives a shit.

Javier starts laughing, too, and relaxes back into the couch, “Your laugh is incredible.”  

“If by ‘incredible’ you mean ‘extremely obnoxious’, then yes. Fucking incredible,” you scoff. 

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t see how it’s possible not to like you or your laugh.” 

You hide behind your hair for a moment, then turn to him and notice he’s focusing on your face. The rapid heartbeat in your chest picks up speed as you study his handsome features. You’re being a complete fool. 

And he’s just being nice. 

“Do you actually want to watch this or do you just feel bad? Because I’ve seen it dozens of times, you really don’t have to.” 

“I want to,” he states firmly. You get up to grab the tape and put it in. He continues in a gentler tone, “I had a good time watching IT with you the other night.” 

Your whole body hums at the thought of him enjoying anything with you. A blush spreads across your cheeks. 

“Really? Ok. Well, The Thing is actually one of my favorite movies, and I thought you might like it.” Once everything is set up and you press PLAY, you settle back onto the couch, stretching your legs until your toes are just not touching Javier. He moves closer to you, pulling your ankles on top of his lap, then he pulls up your comforter to drape it over you both. 

Conversation is casually sprinkled throughout the movie. You find out that he has been in San Antonio visiting his cousin, but otherwise he’s helping out at his dad’s ranch down by the border. He enjoys movies, but hasn’t had time to watch many since he was younger. He’s on disciplinary leave currently but seems like he’d rather eat glass than expand on that subject, so you don’t push it. 

You share a bit about yourself, too- how you grew up in Minnesota, you’re going to school for your master’s in education so you can become a grade school teacher, and how you and Michelle have known each other. Eventually he asks about your love life, but there’s really not a lot to tell.

“I haven’t had much luck dating people down here. I was in a relationship with this girl two years ago, but that’s pretty much it, aside from the occasional hookup,” you look down at your hands, “It’s difficult when you only go out with your hot roommate and… you know…” you grapple for the right words, “people fight for a chance with her. I’m pretty much invisible. She’s so pretty and fun. I wish I could be like her.” 

More often than not, if you get hit on, it’s by the wingman of the person trying to get with Michelle, and they usually give a half-hearted attempt. It’s not like you’re unattractive or anything, you just don’t shine as brightly as she does in those situations… and you’re a tad shy at first. But it has started to grate on your self-esteem. 

“Listen, I don’t know you very well, but… don’t compare yourself to Michelle,” he says sternly. Your body tenses, pulling your feet from his lap up underneath you. Based entirely on his tone, you’re sure he’s about to start berating you, so you embrace for impact. But his tone is softer now, “It’s like apples and oranges. You’re very attractive, and sweet, and any guy would be lucky to get a date with you.”

A placating smile forms on your lips, “Sure” 

If that was true, he would ask me out. If that was true, anyone would ask me out. 

“You don’t believe me,” he raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not important,” contradictory tears prick in your eyes, “You’re right, I shouldn’t compare myself to her. It’s just…” you sigh heavily, frustration evident in your voice, “anytime I’m interested in someone, I have to hear them fucking her, you know? And I can’t help but think, why not me? Is there something wrong with me? I don’t know… I- I guess it’s just getting to me.”

You study your fidgety hands while picking away at fuchsia nail polish. He scoots over onto the seat cushion next to yours, gently extends your legs so your knees drape over his lap, lets one hand rest wrapped around the back of your knee, and then tilts your face up towards his. His fingers feel electric on your touch starved skin. You shiver. His brow is furrowed and a frown is plastered on his mouth. He studies your face as if to ask, is this about me?

And, you know, it kind of is. In fact, it totally is.

You’re horny and resentful, and the crush you have on this man is unreasonable. The words to express yourself are fighting their way into your throat, propelled forward by the whiskey still pumping through you. Adrenaline floods your brain and you can practically hear how hard your heart is beating as you meet his dark eyes and confess, “I- I guess I’m just jealous because I uhh… I wish you were with m- me, not her.” 

You fight the urge to hide your face away in shame. It felt good to say it out-loud, but at the same time you want to puke being that vulnerable with someone who’s practically a stranger. Just an acquaintance, really. Your roommate’s short term fuck buddy, like seriously? 

But his expression doesn’t change. He nods, his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips a few times. Your breath is sucked from your chest. You lick your lips at the thought of him kissing you. You nod too. He leans into you. You’re both still while the ending of The Thing plays on the TV: 

Childs: How will we make it? MacReady: Maybe we shouldn’t.  Childs: If you’re worried about me- MacReady: If we’ve got any surprises for each other, I don’t think we’re in much shape to do anything about it.  Childs: Well, what do we do? MacReady: Why don’t we just… wait here for a little while, see what happens?

Despite your slight intoxication, you’re acutely aware of this moment suspended in time. You feel his breath, whiskey and cigarettes, on your face. You inhale. It mixes with the musk of sweat and his masculine cologne and the scent is tattooed on your brain. His eyes are burning a hole into you. The gentle touch on your jawline, the tightening grasp on the back of your knee, it’s lighting your skin on fire. You crave the feel of his skin against your own. 

Javier walks his fingers from your jaw to the back of your head, trailing across your ear in between. He grabs a fistful of hair at the base of your skull, which sends ripples of pleasure from your scalp down between your legs. You gasp, and he pulls your lips onto his. You kiss him back, savoring the way his mustache brushes against your face. The way his pouty lips seem to melt perfectly into yours. He renews the kiss, deeper this time. You part your mouth to run your tongue along the seam of his mouth. He moans quietly and grants you access. Your tongues touch and it’s so soft and wet and intimate, you turn needy. 

You pull back so you can swing yourself on top of him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips and your hot center flush against the hard cock straining behind the zipper of his tight jeans. You feel the bulge pressing against you and can’t help but roll your hips back and forth slowly to create more friction. His hands press into the small of your back, he’s trying to get closer to you still. Ripping your sweatshirt off, you expose your breasts to the room. His hands shoot up to cup them, but you stop him, “Not yet.” 

You run your fingers through his wavy hair and pull him into your cleavage, sandwiching his face tightly between your tits while he groans into your chest. The noises reverberate inside your rib cage. This is fucking delightful listening to him struggle against you. You drag him out by his hair, and as soon as you see his molten brown eyes you breathe out, “Now you ca-”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he has his mouth wrapped around one of your tits, shoving as much of it into his mouth as possible. He moans while sucking and running his tongue against your nipple. His hand grabs onto your other tit and squeezes for dear life. The sensation shoots off fireworks in your brain and you let out a strangled noise. His hips shoot up into yours, then he switches sides. 

“Fuck yes oh my god- that’s so good baby,” you grab the hand on your wet tit and help him tease your nipple. He’s drooling all over you, moaning into your tits, and you’re fucking feral for him. You resume grinding your hips down onto him and he releases you from his mouth with a pop. 

You pull his head up to meet yours and press your mouth onto his, moaning into the slow, wet, hungry kiss. You break the kiss to whimper at the ceiling as your whole body starts to break out in a sweat. He takes this opportunity to pull your neck to his lips. He tantalizes you by leaving a trail of wet kisses from your throat up to your earlobe. He catches the lobe between his teeth, then closes his lips and sucks gently. You come completely undone at the sensation. 

You gasp, “Please”

He releases your earlobe and looks up at you, eyes smoldering, “Please what?”

He wants you to say it.

You press your foreheads together and beg in a whisper, “please- please fuck me.” 

He wastes no time pulling your hips up so he can unbuckle his belt and shuffle out of his pants. You roll to the side and yank your shorts off. When you meet in your previous position, straddling him, the heat from your skin meets his. Your swollen pussy is laying right on top of his throbbing cock. When you buck your hips forward, the length of him slides between your lips, head rubbing against your clit. You rock back and forth again, gently this time, and continue at this pace. It feels like heaven. His face is pleading up at you and you are on a fucking power trip. You lick and suck on his neck while unbuttoning his shirt, then yank it off of him and throw it on the floor.  

Your fingers splay across his chest, then you drag your nails down his torso, leaving a trail of tender welts behind. His breath speeds. Feeling yourself and your power in this moment, you lean forward to whisper in his ear, still slowly running your wet cunt against his cock, “do you want to fuck me?“ 

He moans and jerks up harder against you while his hands grab your round ass and he desperately attempts to push you down onto him more, “yes, please-” 

Pleasure has completely consumed your being. He’s looking up at you, eyes pleading, mouth open. It’s more than you can take. You slide yourself up his shaft so the head is dipping into your soaking wet opening. Then you pause, and you hear his breath catch. You look into his puppy dog eyes and demand, “Say it.”

“I want to fuck you. P-please let me fuck you,” He begs. You oblige, and lower yourself down his length. He gasps, “Fuck-holy fuck-“

As he makes his way up into you, every single movement fills you with ecstasy. Your entire body shivers at the feel of him inside of you and you bite down on your lower lip, a moan escapes you and you can barely form a coherent thought as you start rolling your hips back and forth. 

His hands wrap around your waist and he pulls your hips down harder, which makes you gasp, “Fuck, Javi, that’s so fucking good.”

He completely lifts you up as he adjusts the position, moves onto his knees and turns the two of you around so your back is against the couch. You wrap around his body and slide down onto him further. He puts his hands around your lower back to support you. Your foreheads press against each other and you’re breathing into each other. 

A loud moan escapes you as you adjust to this new angle and it lights your nerve endings on fire. He starts plunging in slowly, deeply. 

“So fucking good. Your pussy is fucking perfect,” he breathes into your mouth, then starts frantically kissing you.

“Faster, daddy, please-“ you beg him between hungry kisses. 

He lets out a guttural moan and instantly obliges, pounding into you hard. Your heartbeat starts thudding in your ears and you swear your entire body is buzzing. You’re completely lost in each other. Nothing matters but the two of you, starved for intimacy, completely drunk on lust. 

You feel the heat of an orgasm begin tingling in your center. You start babbling “You’re going to make me fuck- fucking cum, don’t stop daddy, please-“

He keeps the same brutal pace and growls, “Fuck- yes, be a good girl, fucking cum for me-“ 

You look up and lock eyes with him as you nod frantically. You close your eyes, but he pants, “Look at me, open them.” 

You snap your lids open to meet his dark eyes, and let out small frenzied whimpers as you ride your climax up. It’s so fucking hot to be looking into his eyes as it happens. Your face contorts as you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you as you cry out, and you’re sure your brain is completely fucking broken by this man. He let out a choked sound and his whole body goes rigid, he gives you a few more thrusts while both of you find your release. 

He lets you go so you can lay back onto the couch, completely and utterly wrecked. He lays back on the other side of the couch, and your legs tangle together. 

“Did you just cum inside me?” You ask quietly, still trying to catch your breath and return your pulse to normal. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, then you hear him light up a cigarette. You follow his cue. He sits up and looks at you, “I did. I wasn’t even thinking. We should have used a condom, I could have pulled out. I didn’t even realize I was going to until I felt you-“

“I swear to god if I get knocked up the first time I’ve had sex in months I’m going to murder you,” you promise, laughing but really if you get knocked up the first time you’ve had sex in months you might actually murder him. 

“Worth it,” he grins from ear-to-ear. 

His handsome smile is contagious. You roll your eyes playfully, then meet his gaze. He grabs your hand that’s not holding a cigarette, brings it to his lips and places a gentle kiss on your wrist, then presses your palm against his cheek. You leave it there. 

There you two are, making goo-goo eyes at each other, when you hear Michelle say, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Chapter 3

[arc-misadventures]

Hunter Drones AU.

Don't know how far you are with May Zedong as the next, but if you could consider some of these ideas, I'd really be thankful.

So consider all the following with the thing that every next drone's AI, and their subsequent body, is derived from a baseline that seems to get more corrupted/fragmented and whatnot.

As an initial result, May 'spawns' with one poor or non-functioning eye, whilst the other one is extremely high functioning. The good eye compensates for her lack of proper depth perception by having multiple pupils in the same area where a normal person would have their one. It's basically several really, REALLY, high definition cameras put in a really small space; 24k resolution at minimum! She has an eye sharper sighted than an eagle and can see in infra-red, x-ray, nightvision and contains built-in flash protection among others. The game I Spy is one she's banned from playing.

May's body, whilst still a good deal stronger than an average soldier, is the weakest among the current line-up. All the processing power, materials and anything else relevant usually dedicated to physical combat prowess, has for the most part been put into Ballistic Trajectory Calculations and Recoil Management of any and all firearms. May can, and has, shot the wings of a fly from a mile away.

As for her body shape, popular horny fannon interpretation will probably do just fine. She does tend to conceal herself quite a lot it out of shyness, though. Up to you in any case.

Personality wise, is where I guess the real kinks would start to appear. Just like the others, May's got a less than healthy attraction to/obsession with Jaune. However, she's a bit more voyeuristic I'd say. She very much likes to watch him, and she doesn't even need to be in the same room to do so.

With her ridiculously large caliber and highly customised sniper rifle, accompanied by an assortment of smaller- but no less destructive -firearms, May's ready to be God and smite anyone who would endanger Jaune. No-one shall know what hit them and red mists will become rather frequent.

(DEEP INHALE!)

You little shit! This was basically what I already had planned?!

Haa… I’m not upset, just a little peeved you guess the next part, the May arc if you will.

Well, the idea was introduce the foundry to you, whilst it is repairing her body, making her Penny 2.0. So after that, Jaune would manage to get a new DAI to work. Not that well, but it’s functionality would be between Yang’s and Blake’s level of effectiveness. Which is higher than Ruby, and Penny. And, with that, HDDAI #5: Codname: May Zedong.

The fault in her design would be her only having one functional eye. The result of which she upgrades her right eye to hell, and back to compensate for this. While the rest of her sisters robotic eyes can see up to one klick each, May can see at least three klick with ease. Can take photos/videos like the rest of the in high definition. Her eye can double as a microscope in how precise she can look at something. The rest of the modifications her eye has the rest do as well.

Raw brute strength she would be the ‘weakest’ amongst them. She is still extremely strong as a means to compensate for the heavy weapons she fires, and the recoil of said guns. Just as you said.

As for shooting the wings off a fly. Well maybe with a dart gun if she doesn’t want to blow it all to hell.

Yeah, I will keep the big chested fannon, May. In her chest she has a radar system to help cover her blind spot. It can only cover about half-a-klick however. She has a stronger battery to compensate for this. Hence a bigger chest to store/protect the batteries.

I can come up with a cannon reason for her chest size, fight me!

Her obsession with, Jaune. Yeah pretty much it.

And for her gun. I expect her to walk around with a 20mm Caliber, Anti-material rifle. Along with various other types of firearms.

So yeah, thanks for hitting the nail on the head for contemplating my future plans.

Haaa…

Best start on the Penny in the foundry part…

[wellithoughtitwascool]

Stanley Kubrick and women

I haven't posted anything here in almost exactly 4 years. But, I'm back up in this bitch! Hahaaa

Hello, hello. Right now I'm toying with the idea of starting up a casual film club with some friends, while simultaneously doing a little exploring of film history n sociology myself, and along the way I've had a few more thoughts. I wanna share em, and I've used this tumblr to do exactly that before, so I figure, may as well do it again huh.

So. One goal in my lil casual film club has been to find really beautifully made films, and I've been rifling through the ones that everyone labels as classics to start with as that's the easiest category to sort through. You don't have to kiss as many frogs if you're going by the ones no one ever shuts up about. And when we're talking about classic, well-made films, one of the directors that no one shuts up about is Stanley Kubrick.

Over the past two or so months I've been watching his films. I tried to start from the very beginning of his filmography but my God I can't stand war films so I started with The Killing (1956). I skipped a few of the other ones I found boring too (oops!), and ended up, in summary, watching The Killing, Lolita (1962), Dr. Strangelove (1964), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), A Clockwork Orange (1971), The Shining (1980), Full Metal Jacket (1987) and Eyes Wide Shut (1999).

While watching these films, I noticed some stuff. Mainly about misogyny. Now I know sexism was much more societally active in the 1950s, when Kubrick started making feature films. To me his place in an actively and overtly sexist society seems to bounce between smart, roundabout critique and actively stoking the fire itself.

A Clockwork Orange and Lolita both explicitly depict the exploitation and abuse of women, through rampant and graphic sexual violence, and through mishandling the topic of paedophilia. In The Shining, the only female character is considerably naive, and spends almost the entire film running, crying and screaming from her murderous husband. In Full Metal Jacket, all the women are sex workers, except for one lone young sniper, who, fair play to her, was kinda cool, but also gets murdered after spending a while begging to be shot, so she can be put out of her misery.

Women are naked sex objects in a large portion of his films, if they feature at all, and if they aren’t naked, a considerable majority of them are being exploited, or being attacked. As you can see in this video, I'm not the only one who's noticed this. Kubrick’s female characters are almost always victims of extreme violence. They rarely stand independently, and are almost always being seriously harmed by men instead. There’s something very unsettling about this running theme.

Stanley Kubrick’s casts are usually 90-99% male. If you look at Kubrick's films as studies unpacking toxic masculinity, it makes some logical sense. He criticises war, and male sexual obsession, in nearly all of his work. However, in his films this criticism leans very heavily on the exploration of a toxically masculine evil, immersing the viewer in sexist violence, and generally harmful behaviour in boys’ club social groups before quickly pulling us out in the last 5-10 minutes, leaving us to make our own decisions about where we should go next. At times it feels as though this evil is being sensationalised, explored for entertainment because it’s unacceptable to do in real life. At times, it simply feels wrong, to me, in my gut. A Clockwork Orange and Lolita had a lot of those times.

I have respect for his lens on society, but looking at his work as one big patchwork, it’s pretty uncomfortable to watch as a woman, and its observation of sexist depravity feels more than a bit voyeuristic.

It also needs to be acknowledged that Kubrick’s own perfectionism caused him to overstep, and seriously mistreat Shelley Duval. It’s never acceptable to bully your talent, regardless of what performance you think it will pull out of them. That is crossing a line; art is never more important than human life. There have got to be better ways of creating great cinema than this, and I feel other great horror and thriller directors have proven this themselves. Perhaps the issue for Kubrick is that he’s a little imbalanced in his pursuit of an awesome cinematic experience. I certainly wouldn’t consider him an ally, though it definitely is crucial that men do their part in critically examining the patriarchy. At the end of the day, the artistic merit and excellence in Kubrick's work is clear, but both his work, and his approach as a director are also deeply flawed, and at many times his work becomes the misogyny he critiques. I think it's important that other male directors take their criticism of patriarchy much further than Stanley Kubrick has done, and because of how violent the misogyny in Kubrick's films are, I completely understand if some women would rather just avoid them altogether.

[queerasaurus-rexx]

something that really frustrates me is this desire for media that discusses the violent way our society degrades, dehumanizes and non-consensually sexualizes afab people but immediately decries any media that tries to viscerally engage with those ideas as 'sex for the sake of it' or even accuses them of actually enforcing those things.

if you want media that engages with the violent sexuality directed at afab people in our society, you need to be willing to be uncomfortable and understand how that feeling of discomfort is the point.

am i saying that every game that has boob jiggle physics or every horror film which has a shower scene shot in the most unnecessarily voyeuristic way possible is trying to unpack our society's weird psycho-sexual fixation on the female body?

no. but i just find that every piece of media i've come across that does or at least, fashions into a plot that explores those ideas in the most bare bones and honest way always seems to get shut down as misogynistic and sexual for the sake of being sexual.

think, for example, the original halloween movie. how it was critically panned for being voyeuristic and 'shlocky'. but now, many critics, many feminist critics, praise the film for its brutal portrayal of violent sexuality.

for a video game example, haunting ground. kind of a throwback, but stay with me here. this game was criticized for pretty much everything about the way it portrays its female protagonist. she's dressed in a skimpy outfit, she can't really defend herself, at one point she's naked. but the one thing these criticisms miss, in my opinion, is that, thematically, these things make sense in the story. you are a helpless young woman trying to escape four villains who want to use your body in sadistic and perverted ways (the main villain wants to forcibly impregnate you, for gods' sake).

the main character is essentially a piece of property for them, a plaything. like, the societal parallels are practically written on the wall and criticism of this game just fucking ignores it for whatever reason.

you don't have to love media that tries to do this, you don't have to love halloween or haunting ground, you're allowed to be uncomfortable with how they accomplish what they're trying to do.

but saying that's what you want in media and then getting offended when it does that with little or no filter? that's frustrating. that's aggravating. and that attitude almost assures that even fewer pieces of media will try to engage with those concepts.

[penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories]

So for some reason, it's taken me a tad bit too long to put two and two together and recognize your AO3 and Tumblr names and when I tell you I fucking squealed when I saw that you wrote Collision!!!!!! Let me just say this. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much for giving me voyeuristic Obi-Wan listening in and waiting till he's caught....and then describing his competent hands and making note of them (it's a sad reality that not many people comment on his hands)...and then giving me a reluctant yet extremely turned on Obi wanting you to go down on him but not wanting to degrade you and this fucking line:

“ Nmh ...Darling, I can’t … I’m going to pull if my hand is there.”

AHHHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭

AND THEN YOU TOP IT OFF WITH FUCKING POETRY:

May he continue to mark your thighs and stain your soul, and may your crashing continue to leave you both raw and reborn.

I simply passed away when I read this the first time and I have been screaming ever since because I read this fic at least once a day since I found it. All in all, the fact that you liked my fic when it came nowhere, and I mean, nowhere near the literary work that is Collision is simply astounding to me.

The way this absolutely made my day!! You??? Have read my fic???

And listen babes! I need everyone to write at least a paragraph about his hands okay??? And god bless for how many hand shots we’re getting in the Kenobi series 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Yeahhh this is inspiring me, because I honestly forgot about that whole dynamic, and now I’m just: what if Obi-Wan is comfortable with you, and knows you don’t mind a little degrading?? 👀👀👀 anywayyy thoughts for later

I really screamed so many times reading your fic!!! The thought you think mine even? Compares?? I’m so shook because yours is just art that I felt honored to read. Instantly went on the favs list and I’ve already revisited it three times

[some-french-asshole]

(I'm sorry I messed the ask and now it's a screen shot ;-;) link to the original post here

BUT YEAH

I finished it 2 days ago and OH MY GOD???

I'm not going to spoil anything here, but I think my opinion on if this manga was truly "gross and perverted" and is clearer now. It is gross, it is intrusive, but that's the point. Girlhood is a terrifying thing. We see how "Marie" sees her own body and the ones of her friends: she can't help objectifying them because she herself is already so detached from her own. At the beginning of the story, Mari's body is this sacred, pure thing that no man should see yet is also constantly ogled at without considering what it's like to be this body. It's a subject that is extended upon during the entire story and to me, that's a genuine proof that the grossness is not just meaningful, it tells you about how you, the reader, perceive the female body.

As an afab person, I know what it's like to face all the difficulties mari faces with her teenage body and the fact it feels so real prooves that Oshimi does understand womanhood and what it implies. He said in later volumes that he actually didn't want to become a woman, that his mind had changed, but I still find his views on gender and his portrayal of it to be very interesting as the question "do we inhabit a body or are we a body" as been stuck in my head for a while.

I'm still very disturbed by some of thw things he puts at the end of the volumes (if you've read the 14th volume of Blood on the Tracks you know what I mean). It just feels like I'm hearing things only his therapist should hear. It feels intrusive and voyeuristic and I think that's the point. It isn't meant to be "enjoyed", to me it works as a full extension of the story, it keeps you in that mind set of a person trapped in a strange, uncomfortable situation. I personally live psychological horror and thrillers and that's why I started reading his works, which I absolutely adore, but for me it's a very safe way to experience horrible things: it's fictional. But when he tells the reading about his life, I felt genuinely sick in the stomach, like I wasn't meant to read this, like it was too personal for anyone to read this

[tonysfilmblog]

Film Form Week 4 - Presentation Time

I hate em. I know this is something I really have to get used to if I want to get anywhere in the industry but right now my presentation skills are appalling. Why do they have to be so terrifying? 

My portion of the presentation surrounded, you guessed it, the cinematography. Since we’re really heavily taking inspiration or at least the outline is quite similar to THX 1138, I think I’m going to really try and use that film as my main inspiration for our visual look, with lots of shots that seem off and the framing not seeming quite right. Also I’m thinking of having some almost voyeuristic shots like angles made to seem like cctv footage

Behold! My beautiful notes regarding my early plan for the shoot!

And here are some examples of the films and shows I have taken inspiration from such as THX 1138, Black Mirror, and Equals.

Many of these films use a lot of wider, more impersonal shots that create this very cold tone.

Overall the presentation went alright. Serviceable but my god, so so boring. I think last time we underwent a presentation, we raced through it and ended up glossing over a lot of important information so we decided to adapt and improve on this one. Except, we went overboard and it ended up being too long. So ah, apologies class.

[robertogreco]

The trailer for Unrueh (Unrest) is embedded above. I haven’t seen the film yet, but I look forward to watching when it is available to me. It’s compelling for many reasons, some of which are the watchmaking, the labor organizing, the history of anarchism, and the way the film was made. Here are two long clips from an excellent interview with the director Cyril Schäublinby Soren Hough to give you an idea of what I mean:

The idea of decentralizing these famous figures comes through in the filmmaking both narratively (Kropotkin and Josephine both say they are not protagonists in dialogue) and in the actual framing of individual scenes where use wide shots that literally decenter the characters. “Unrest” has this almost Altman- or Haneke-like voyeuristic perspective.

It’s also just the way I like to make films and the way that I like to watch [them]. It goes a long way back that I came up with this way of creating an image so that when you watch the movie, you are aware that you’re watching a movie. It’s transparent that it’s a made up thing. Maybe this could sound Brechtian, but it’s not really. And also to give liberty [to the audience] of what to choose from this big tableau image, and what to do with it—but also to give the people who appear in the film, which are all non-professional actors, space to just do what they what they do and not be too [restrictive to them].

Kind of the exact opposite of Kubrick. He would keep one particular shot over and over again until he got what he eventually wanted.

He worked with actors, and I work with people. It’s very fragile, and delicate. I have to work a lot with them and tell them "don’t act" or "don’t play." But then they are suddenly just doing it. It’s like a situationist approach.

And of course, situationists have a connection to the anarchist movement, as well. It sounds like your natural aesthetic instinct tied well into this particular story where you, as you say, have this big name in “Unrest”—Peter Kropotkin. He’s not in a huge amount of the movie, he doesn’t have that many lines, he’s not a central character, and it’s certainly not a biopic.

The guy who acts as Kropotkin (Alexei Evstratov) is a very avid Kropotkin guy. I mean, he’s really into him. And he said to me at the end, "I didn’t say that much!" But he told me the way we were doing the film, and how the film was organized, and how we talked to each other, he felt [it took a] mutual aid approach. That was really interesting for me.

Could you elaborate on what he meant by that?

Finding out together how to [tell this story]. Just simple gestures. I mean, we were cooking for each other. There’s a lot of help involved now in filmmaking: people made his hair, his beard. They helped him with the clothes, the microphone. It was very important for me to have a gentle, open feeling between people, and that we could talk in the breaks.

It’s unusual, because I think filmmaking is one of those places where there’s a presumption that it has to be run in a quite clear, hierarchical manner, but it sounds like you were able to be more collaborative.

A lot of people came to me because this was the first big film that I made. The first film we made for 60,000 francs—only friends acted in it and it was very low budget. With this film, we had much more. So we had people who worked professionally for 30 years come to us and say, "Oh my God, this was the kindest set we’ve ever seen. How do you do it? What’s happening?" It was funny. Everybody thought it was really nice. For me, it was really tough, because it’s always tough to make a film as a directing person. Just really intense. But it was nice. Good feelings.

It sounds like even if it was difficult for you, you made it a good environment for other folks. Earlier, you mentioned cadence, the sense of rhythm of working life. And obviously this is a ubiquitous motif in "Unrest," where you have ticking clocks, stopwatches, the winding of the camera. For my part, it seemed to reflect the mechanical nature of industrial society, but also this sense of social progression. Could you talk a bit more about what these ideas mean to you?

I think it was something that fascinated me with watchmaking. Because it’s a very simple machine, you know, that creates two events, the tick and the tock [from] which you can count and compare to other events. And it’s crazy how we integrated this machine, or industrial time, into our bodies. We have a feeling [that] ten minutes have passed by. We really think it’s 4:30. We believe it’s true. It’s so concrete. And I think this is interesting, because it’s such a construction. It’s so made up. With this film, I really try to show the construction of this machine. The four different time [zones the watchmakers had to keep track of] were real, but it’s absurd from an outsider’s point of view. I think if that is a construction, other capitalist mythologies are also constructions. And I think it’s important not to forget that, that we live in a made [world] and not an ultimate finished truth or anything.

That’s one of the things I find really interesting about the film. As you say, narratively, it’s not about Kropotkin or any of the characters in particular. But it is thematically about Kropotkin’s ideas. Kropotkin, contra Karl Marx or Adam Smith or even some other anarchists, believed in the abolition of any kind of wage labor whatsoever—that there was no way to meaningfully compensate somebody’s labor, to quantify it in such a way that you can pay them a wage. In "Unrest," the exact opposite is happening. You have this constant refrain about wages being paid for particular amounts of time and for particular amounts of work. The incongruity of that notion is really laid bare.

Yeah, of course. There’s an interesting thing that we did that in the end didn’t [make it] into the film. But one of the first demands of the anarchist union in this town was that they wanted to be paid for the time when they were not allowed to work. They were like, "We want to get money for the Sundays that you don’t let us work because of your religious conviction. Or Christmas." This demand completely shows this whole thing is crazy, no? Who can say when you work and for what, when, and how?

Another aspect that came up quite a bit in “Unrest” was this idea about photography and portraiture. Throughout the movie, the authorities are trying to document the town through photos, and the police are constantly trying to move anarchists out of the shot as if they’re not part of the town, or they’re not important enough to record. The local amateur photographer is perfectly happy to photograph them, but the official authorities exclude them. Meanwhile, the anarchists are trading photos of famous revolutionary figures as if they were baseball cards.

Yeah, they really did [trade and sell] pictures of martyrs. They were selling pretty well, I guess. First, I thought this idea of who can create objective reality, or say this is true, this is our village, this is how we organize society in the beginning of the nation state, is interesting. With photography, that was funny and strange to me. Who can say, "We’ll take a picture of this town, this is how it looks"? And then they print postcards and there are no women on it, only men, or no people at all. This made sense to me to show. And of course, this idea of the anarchists to create a parallel public space, or to kind of hack into these new technologies. It was this attempt to create an anarchist identity, or an anarchist community, with technological means—with photography, there was a clear strategy, and of course with the telegraph. There’s this bit in the movie [that came about when] Florian Eitel found out that many of the factory directors and owners were subscribing to anarchist newspapers, because they were much better connected internationally than the normal press."

[...]

So some of the people in the film actually are watchmakers themselves?

Quite a few. Yeah. The main actor, Josephine (Clara Gostynski), is an architect. And she really likes Kropotkin, as well, and Simone Weil, and she spent a lot of time with one of the other actors who explained to her the mechanics. As an architect, she really could build on that.

The nationalist versus anarchist perspective in “Unrest” is most obvious when they’re running the two lotteries in parallel, one managed by the industrialist and the other by the anarchist community as a fundraiser. Later, when they’re voting, there’s a nice illustration of something that Errico Malatesta talks about, which is essentially that you have this direct marriage between capital in the state which necessarily excludes certain people (usually the powerless, the poor) from participating in governance. With all these ideas in mind, we’re in a moment where we’re seeing a revitalization of the labor movement across the globe. Unions across the United States, strikes in the UK and Europe, all in response to extreme societal precarity. Where do you see this film fitting into the current discourse about nationalism versus internationalism, workers and the state?

Big question. I wonder if internationalism is still a word that will affect us because nations are a concept that I don’t think will prevail. I don’t think it will make sense, really. But I think this is not for us or for the film to explain. I think this is just obvious. And I think our close surroundings will become much stronger—our experience of neighborhoods and direct mutual aid. And I think with cyberspace, the concept of nation and what you should have in common with all these people will fade at one point, I’m sure. There’s a lot of open question marks. [laughs]

I think also what’s really important is how we organize information. I think that is the main thing for me right now, maybe also with this film. Like [the question the workers face] in the movie, do you want to reenact a medieval battlefield? Or do you want to reenact the Paris Commune? This is a question we’re also [facing] right now. What information do we take and reproduce and turn into reality?"

(via Justin)

[allastud]

Favourite Music Releases of 2022

here it is, slightly late to the party but here are my favourite music releases of 2022. there are albums and EPs on the list and yeah.

1. Voyeurist – Underoath

2. Past Lives – L.S. Dunes

3. Spectre – Stick To Your Guns

4. Color Decay – The Devil Wears Prada

5. Otherness – Alexisonfire

6. Farm To Table – Bartees Strange

7. Heavy Steps – Comeback Kid

8. Torch Songs – Ways Away

9. Baku’s Revenge – Magnolia Park

10. Surrender – Maggie Rogers

11. Merciless Destruction – Get The Shot

12. Endless Hallway – He Is Legend

13. Coma Year – Limbs

14. Euthanasia – Stray From The Path

15. Terraform: The Soil – Propaganda

16. Psychic Jailbreak – Cancer Bats

17. Being Funny In A Foreign Language – The 1975

18. How To Let Go – Sigrid

19. The Lowest Form Of Animal – Kublai Khan TX

20. Celebrity Therapist – The Callous Daoboys

21. Pep – Lights

22. Renaissance – Beyonce

23. Its Almost Dry – Pusha T

24. A Eulogy For Those Still Here – Counterparts

25. God’s Country – Chat Pile

26. The Classic Symptoms Of A Broken Spirit – Architects

27. Pain Into Power – Terror

28. Silverline – Anberlin

29. Midnights – Taylor Swift

30. FTHC – Frank Turner

31. The Hum Goes On Forever – The Wonder Years

32. Milk Teeth – Tyson Motsenbocker

33. Punishing Myself Before God Does – Confessions Of A Traitor

34. The Unravelling Of PUP THE BAND – Pup

35. This Bright And Beautiful World – Greyhaven

36. This World Is Going To Ruin You – Vein.FM

37. Heal My Head – Valleyheart

38. Satan Will Follow You Home – Dead Tired

39. The Hell We Create – Fit For A King

40. The Wrath It Takes – Spill Your Guts

[independentartistbuzz]

7 From the Women with Lenni Revel

If you haven’t yet heard of Lenni Revel or her music, you are missing out on a great talent and soul-grabbing music. While she once lived the ultimate pop-star dream with her name on billboards in Times Square and fancy LA A&R execs vying to work with her, she felt something inside was beginning to move in contradiction to a conjured glamorous life.  She knew deep down she wasn't an accomplished singer and even admits her tone was harsh, she was pitchy, she had a narrow range and relied heavily on auto tune.

She stepped away from that glamourous lifestyle and continued on a musical and personal journey of growth. She just released two songs from her upcoming album, Unbroken. “Where There Ain’t No Sun” is the country rock inspired track that unfolds into soaring emotionality lead by her vocals. “Annabelle” is an rock anthem with some outlaw country influence about a girl lost in her head, numb to the world, and barely staying afloat with her looks and charm.

We got a chance to speak with Lenni about her music and career in this edition of 7 From the Women. So, let’s dive in:

What Have You Been Working To Promote Lately?

Our current campaign is for the second single “Annabelle,” from the Unbroken album, which was released last Friday, August 19, 2022. The song is a rock anthem, with an outlaw country twist. Thematically, it’s about being a women in American culture, being lulled to sleep by the seduction of physicality and superficiality as a source of power and belonging. The music video enhances the theme even further; the main character, Annabelle, is visited in her small town by a mystical figure who appears one day to call her lifestyle choices out from a voyeuristic realm. My husband, Robert Revel, wrote the song, and he also directed, shot and edited the music video. Our promotional efforts are also true collaborations, from social media posts to playlist submissions.

https://youtu.be/sN3dTRS7Lms

Tell us about your favorite song written, recorded or produced by another woman and why it’s meaningful to you. I love the few women vocal artists that really break out into territory that feels disruptive, in an artful way. These are female voices that almost always make me feel that something swampy-sensual, hauntingly raw, and agonizingly honest is happening – making that kind of music can tend to compellingly disturb the listener and even challenge their long-held perceptions. When these women sing, they often exemplify the terrible aspects of nature that no one can control, like an earthquake, a wildfire, a hurricane, or a tsunami. Take the vocal performance of Billie Holiday with “Strange Fruit,” or Etta James laying into “God’s Song.” It is hard to dismiss a woman with that kind of soul-driven artistic power—one listens, and one hopes to have the courage to feel every note as deeply as they do.

What does it mean to you to be a woman making music/in the music business today and do you feel a responsibility to other women to create messages and themes in your music? As a female vocal artist and songwriter today, I feel more than a singular responsibility to women. I would like to see my music serving everyone, regardless of gender or creed, because only empowering a singular demographic might tend to disregard the whole social systems that women operate inside of; to truly liberate one means to liberate all. As a woman, however, I do carry a particular perspective, perhaps a history of ancestral pain and wisdom that I cannot deny influences my music heavily. My message is coming from a woman who was cultured in a society that does not serve to create healthy whole women, and I carry that knowledge and pain with me into my songwriting and into the vocal booth. But I want to encourage women to possess a self-reliant character by helping them cultivate an intimacy with life on their own terms. Not to be hard, fiercely aloof or emasculated, but at peace and reconciled to their own version of beauty and strength.

What was the most challenging thing you have had to face as a female artist?

In my early 20s, I had a brief foray into trying to make it as a pop singer. Instagram was a fairly new tool. I remember so clearly seeing the phenomenon of “selfies” begin to show up on my feed. It reminded me of the movie Anchorman where Ron Burgundy calls out to everyone at the news station to come see how good he looks. Just as vividly as I remember despising the new trend, I also remember taking my own first “selfie” and posting it on Instagram and noticing the tsunami of a response that all my other posts about art and poetry were not getting. I remember how that affected me. It communicated to me that my image was more powerful than what was inside. I bought in at some level and I used my body to garner the attention I knew I could receive. It imprisoned me in so many ways. But in truth, I was the prisoner building the prison. Systems don’t change unless those who are contributing within the system do something different. Now that I am moving again in the industry, I am still aware of the power physicality has. But I also know that bringing forth content that moves people emotionally and spiritually is what motivates and inspires me.

Do you consider yourself a feminist? If so, why or why not?

If being a feminist means that I am looking to help all women find their own truth and rise above the station that the typical modern social structures would have them remain confined to quarters in, then yes, I could be seen as a feminist.  But the “feminist” movement I see most active in the culture often displays victimhood first.  Out of that limited perspective comes rage, reaction, blame, judgment, and division on par with the very violence that suppresses women. Or there is the feminism that wants to emulate all the power and privilege of white men; a sad state of aspiration that suggests equal station will solve the dilemma of social repression. The latter form of feminism fails to recognize that equal participation in the power hierarchy of male culture is hardly the saving grace of women or the culture, it just broadens gender access to existing tyranny and brings on a conformation of oppression to segments of the formerly oppressed.  My music is about finding true freedom and courage, like the kind German student Sophie Scholl had while being sentenced to death by beheading in a mock trial, in a Nazi court, for passing out non-violence leaflets in college denouncing Hitler’s war. Though only 21 at the time, that was a woman rooted in her own power. This kind of courage is available to all of us as women.

What do you hope to share with other women in the industry with your music? When I look at most mainstream popular music today, I see an emphasis on self-promotion and self-interest. Music has so much potential to affect the listener and change cultural zeitgeist quickly. When music only focuses on the personal desires, pent-up rage or hopeless fears of an artist, the listener is affected and moved to do the same. History often shows that the oppressed or disenfranchised are often the ones to bring about real social evolution. Women have been dismissed for what appears to be the entire history of humankind, making us perhaps the original targets for subordination and relegation to an inferior station in the social caste. I am sharing this music, and my brand to demonstrate both art in music and integrity in branding that emphasizes finding an individual truth that simultaneously serves our species and our planet. My own journey has taught me to feel everything inside myself without contraction until I am holding all those aspects of myself in peace; meaning those surges of emotion no longer appropriate the serenity at my core. This allows me tremendous freedom to feel all I experience in life deeply…good or bad, and not be swept away or attempt to medicate it. All my suffering as a person, as a woman, had to do with me personally and willfully trying to control things that I did not want to feel anymore. My music, and my message to women in particular, is to grow deep soulful roots, strong enough to remain unbroken when the storms come; to stand tall and magnificent in no one else’s shadow; and to leave all contrived sense of victimhood behind and use that energy instead to shine. Before we join groups and causes, I feel this interior work needs to be done. I left the music industry for 7 years to do this work until I felt strong enough to come back to the business of music.  

What female artists have inspired you and influenced you? It is sad to say, but every female artist I have been truly influenced by has struggled severely with drugs, alcohol, or prescription medications to the point of debilitation.  Billie Holiday, Etta James, Beth Hart, Amy Winehouse. I imagine the issues that drove the substance abuse or misuse was rooted in deep pain, and I am guessing that the hurt also contributed greatly to their particular artistic power. But the pain eventually consumed them. I want to be a clear artist. I no longer use drugs or medication to escape or cope. There is a myth in the rock and roll industry that getting high enhances artistic expression. I feel such a depth of sadness, compassion, and empathy for these incredible women, who were forces in the industry, who inspired me, but who were truly suffering.

Connect with Lenni Revel via: Website / Instagram / Facebook / Twitter / YouTube / TikTok / Spotify / Soundcloud

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The Truman Show (1998 dir. Peter Weir)

After a film set light falls from the sky, Truman begins to spiral and question the nature of his reality as increasingly more bizarre events conspire to hold him within the tiny idyllic town where he has spent his whole life.

The leading themes of the movie are depicted as Man vs God, Maturing and becoming the master of your own destiny.

The Truman Show still stands as one of the best movies in Jim Carrey’s filmography as he gives a wonderfully nuanced performance of a man questioning his existence and desperately trying to escape from a world he knows is false. 

Trumans world is even modelled in a form very alike to a sitcom, with crisp colours and pristine scenery. Even the lighting and shot composition harp back to classic American sitcoms like the Brady Bunch.

Ed Harris plays a brilliant part as the producer, and serves as a stand-in for God or a father figure, overbearing toward Truman with how he seeks to curate his  world. These actions are what ultimately leads Truman to rebel, akin to a child, and leave to seek a true experience of life. This extends to his search for his dream woman, Sylvia, where Truman was never even allowed to choose who he should be with as she was whisked away by the shows team shortly after they met.

The movie also serves as a critique of the cheapening of peoples lives through reality TV and how voyeuristic this type of entertainment is, as Truman is observed at all times, even in his most personal moments and these are all broadcast to the world with zero regard for his feelings.

The Truman Show is an surprisingly deep movie and leaves the viewer wanting to examine their own life choices.

[ariyadaivaris]