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frostfire-17 · 2 years

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KinnPorsche: the recap, episode 1

HI FANDOM, I LEFT FOR LIKE EIGHT YEARS and now I'm back with an ambitious KinnPorsche recap project. Does that need an explanation? You know, I don't think it does. Let's talk about KinnPorsche instead.

(Now with a recap master post!)

KinnPorsche is a Thai show about a mafia boss and his bodyguard falling in love. It is very, very high quality for a BL show, which is mainly because its production history is wild and beautiful. It still has its flaws! Its plot is bonkers, its characterization is inconsistent at times, it has(!) consent(!!) issues(!!!), and it truly does not know whether it is a drama or a comedy. Still, I love it with all my heart and I want others to have the chance to love it as well. To that end: a recap. (This is a very long post. And it is just episode 1!)

SO. We open with Kinn, the mafia boss. He leaves the opulent fortress of a compound where he lives, and is driven to a meeting with an Italian mafioso. Mafioso receives him with surprise; he was expecting Kinn's dad. But Mr. Korn's health has caused him to take a step back, and Mafioso is informed that from now on, Mr. Kinn is going to be in charge. There is some INTENSE subtitle action as the Italians speak Italian, the Thai people speak Thai, and they speak English to each other. I pay close attention because this is my third time watching this series and I cannot for the life of me remember why the Theerapanyakun family is connected to the Italians, even though this is a medium-level plot throughline: from this conversation, I guess they run a casino together? Or the Italians run a casino that funnels profits to the Theerapanyakuns somehow, maybe money laundering? It's all I've got.

Meanwhile, we are cutting back and forth with a scene at the bar where Porsche works; Porsche is satisfying three women at once with his magical cocktail-making skills, while his less cool coworkers murmur in jealousy. He makes a special sugar-rimmed blue thing for a particular lady that I would love to try. (The drink, not the lady, although also the lady is very beautiful.)

[The master at work.]

Back with the Italians, Kinn is insinuating that someone is embezzling from the casino. Guns come out! Mafioso says, chewing the scenery a little, "I've been working with Mr. Korn for years, and he's never been disrespectful with me. With ME!" Kinn creates the biggest cocktease of a backstory EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD by replying, "People say…I'm more like my mom," and shooting the embezzler straight in the head. We will never learn what about Kinn's mom inspired this comparison, and it is the thing that has most upset me about this show, which is a pretty high bar to reach.

[Mafia tableau, dead embezzler at center.]

So then Kinn admits that the corruption was coming from his side of the table, not the Italians' (the dead guy is Thai), and Mafioso is very entertained by his boldness, while meanwhile Porsche is doing a million shots while the bar cheers him on. It's an interesting contrast, because they're both demonstrating their ability to command a room, but Porsche appears to be having a fantastic time, while Kinn is pretty clearly not. (I mean, that is not the only difference between their respective scenes, but it's the one I care about the most.) Porsche ends up in the back room of the bar with yet a fourth beautiful lady, whom he totally does right up against a wall.

On the way back from the meeting, men on motorcycles with guns surround Kinn's car! His driver detours, stops real fast so that Kinn and his most specialest bodyguard Big can slip out of the car and disappear - but the motorcycles are onto them. They're chased on foot; Big gets shot in the shoulder and sends Kinn on alone. He is chased by like six dudes and ends up darting into a door that leads to…the back room of the bar, where Porsche is having a post-coital cigarette.

[Yup.]

Kinn asks (orders) Porsche to help him; Porsche says, "Fifty thousand," and Kinn says, "You got it." Porsche lazily and easily dispatches all of the dudes, helps Kinn up from where he'd gotten knocked over, then won't let go of his arm after, because: "Hey. Fifty thousand." Except one of the dudes has recovered and has a gun! Kinn kicks Porsche out of the way of the gun, and then they both run back through the crowded bar out into the street, where Porsche has his motorcycle parked. They drive away, and end up at a gas station, where Kinn gets off, and they do a kind of a, "Well." "Well," thing, except Kinn is thinking, "Huh, where do we go from here exactly?" while Porsche is thinking, "Please give me my money." Kinn eventually figures this out, and they have an entertaining back-and-forth where Kinn does not have 50,000 baht (~$1300) OR A PHONE(??) on him, so he's trying to get Porsche to give him his bank account number (fucking forget it), or HIS phone (fucking FORGET IT), and Porsche is yelling at him, until finally Kinn is like, "So what do you want?" Porsche grabs his wrist and wrestles his watch off, saying, "Be still," while I think wistfully about a world in which Porsche is always this toppy. Kinn relaxes after a second and says, "Take it," while I think wistfully, etc.

[In the romantic light of the gas station.]

(The music, by the way, is this Italian-restaurant-accordian theme that has been off and on since the mafioso beginning. Against the gas-station-watch-extortion, it is WILD.)

Watch acquired, Porsche is satisfied, and starting to get a little nervous that things might go wrong from here; he gets on his motorcycle and gets ready to peace out. Kinn, having regained his general imperiousness, demands, "What's your name?" Porsche: "And what's that for?" Kinn: "I'll send you a gift hamper." They stare at each other for a minute, and then Porsche gives Kinn the fakest smile there ever was and says, "My name is Jom." He drives off, leaving Kinn to contemplate what-all just happened, circling his empty wrist with his hand, until four cars pull up and like fifteen henchmen get out, looking extremely upset and guilty. (How did they know where to come if Kinn doesn't have a phone on him? Don't ask!)

Porsche's house! He finds his little brother patching up their uncle, who's been beaten up. Turns out Porsche is behind on the rent, and their landlord is the sort of dude who sends people to beat you up if you don't pay; good thing uncle was visiting so he got the beating instead of teenaged Porchay! (Yes, Porsche and Porchay. This name confluence is not as wildly confusing in spoken Thai as it is in written English, since they lean on the second syllable or just call him Chay, while "Porsche" is often pronounced without the final consonant present at all.) Why is Porsche behind? He's paying for an expensive school for his brother. But now evil landlord wants 200k baht this week, or he'll take the house! Luckily, Porsche has this cool new watch, which he gives to his uncle to sell. He also participates in a…street gladiator fight?? I think that part is just to let us see him doing cool fight moves, which is an interesting narrative choice since we did already see that when he was protecting Kinn - maybe the point is that he has a pretty good time doing it.

[My favorite part of this scene is that they have a girl sexy dancer AND a boy sexy dancer as hype people.]

Anyway, the watch sells for 700k, so everything is fine! Right? Right?

We cut to Kinn. He is with his dad, who does not seem particularly sick; Dad's head bodyguard is reporting that Big is pretty seriously hurt and will possibly be recovering for months. Dad reproves Kinn for being reckless and arrogant; the implication is that it's the Italians who sent the motorcycle dudes after them, I guess just because Kinn was kind of rude. Kinn apologizes without any hint of remorse and says he sent an apology gift; we cut to Mafioso turning into a hallway to find three of his henchpeople tied up with a big red bow, which sends him into a pretty serious conniption. This is interesting just because of how flippant Kinn is about defying his dad, which is a little inconsistent with how he is later on in the series, but also Dad doesn't seem too genuinely upset, just kind of "boys will be boys" about it. Which is also interesting, because as he points out, Kinn could easily have been killed. Dad leaves and Kinn presses Dad's bodyguard about finding Jom ASAP.

There's a scene where Porsche stops by the college he supposedly attends (his friends, to whom he is a little bit of a dick, are shocked to see him actually show up, which is fair because this is the only scene that even hints at the possibility that he might be interested in school) to learn that someone is looking for his friend Jom. Oops! And then when he arrives at work that night, who should be waiting at the bar but five dudes in identical suits! Oh, and Kinn.

Kinn is chatting up Yok, the bar's owner and the only regular female cast member, by saying he wants to buy into the business. So when he's like, oh, hey, your best bartender? Can I talk to him? she's like, YES ABSOLUTELY, PORSCHE GIVE HIM WHATEVER HE WANTS. What he wants, it turns out, is to be kind of an asshole and order Porsche to make him a drink. The dynamic in this scene is really interesting, because on the one hand, Kinn has ALL the power and Porsche has zero, but on the other hand, Kinn is obviously somewhat invested in Porsche as a person, has been thinking about him since they met, and is super into this little bar tableau powerplay he's set up, while Porsche has totally moved on and would prefer that Kinn just leave.

[Porsche: This is NOT nice, and even your ombre suit jacket will not convince me it is.]

Unfortunately for Porsche, Kinn has his five bodyguards kidnap him away from the bar instead! Cool! Great beginning to any relationship, professional OR personal. Porsche ends up tied to a chair in a big room on a river yacht with bodyguards standing over him and Kinn reading a list of facts about him from a tablet; we learn that Porsche is 23, an orphan, and was the national Tae Kwon Do champion at some point in the past. (How he got lessons that brought him to the point of national championship with no parents and debt collectors at his door, we will never know.) Porsche calls Kinn a psycho, which I think is fair, and demands to be let go. Kinn says, "Be my bodyguard."

Porsche laughs at him, which I think is MORE than fair. "Be your bodyguard? And hold my balls like a wallpaper, like these maniacs?" (Ken, one of the bodyguards, is pretty annoyed at him for that one.) Kinn says, "I know you don't like it," which does invite the question of why he thinks this is a good idea, "but this job will make a fortune for your brother and your family." Porsche spits in his face, literally, and points out that he'd have to do terrible things for that money - like, for example, kidnapping innocent people and tying them to chairs! I am TEAM PORSCHE on this one.

While he's been talking, though, he's worked his hands loose, and suddenly he jumps up and throws the chair at one of the bodyguards - but he gets caught anyway. Kinn motions for him to be let go, and steps up and meets his eyes - and they fight! They are pretty evenly matched, which 1) I do not like, because Kinn already has all the power in this relationship, jeez, let Porsche be able to kick his ass at least, 2) makes me wonder what kind of intense self-defense training these mafia kids had to go through growing up, if Kinn can hold his own against a literal national martial arts champion who underground gladiators as a second job. I guess a lot!

[It's not what it looks like, BUT IT WILL BE.]

Anyway, Porsche eventually incapacitates Kinn enough to get away, but unfortunately they're on a boat. He gets up on deck and is looking frantically around for a way to escape when Kinn shows up behind him with a gun, which he fires into the air. Porsche does an EXCELLENT flail-and-exasperated-turn, like: what the hell is even HAPPENING? Kinn reiterates, "Be my bodyguard…or be the fish's food." My dude, this is not going to get you what you want! And in fact, Porsche decides to leap over the side of the boat rather than take this particular employment opportunity. Kinn opts not to follow.

We cut back to Dad, who is playing chess with his own bodyguard. Dad: "How come you're back empty-handed?" Kinn, angrily pouring a drink: "I told you, a guy like him wouldn't work for us." AHA, MUCH BECOMES CLEAR. My main question about the whole above sequence is whether and how much Kinn was purposefully sabotaging this recruitment attempt; he's not an idiot, he has to know that kidnapping someone and threatening to kill them in order to make them your bodyguard is PRETTY DUMB. If I were to guess based on how things go in the future, I would say yes: I think Kinn is aware that Porsche gets under his skin, and does not particularly want him around all the time. Doing a fun power trip scene where he makes Porsche dance around and make him a drink? Yes. Have him standing behind him during every meeting and taking up a position outside his bedroom? No.

[But Daaaaad, I don't WANT a bodyguard to have fraught sexual tension with! I don't even need one who plays chess! Just guarding my body is plenty!]

Dad makes the point that a person who can't be bought is the best kind of bodyguard. (It is unclear to me whether he's going off Kinn's one introductory line, or whether he's had a report on what happened; as we will learn later on, Dad's eyes are everywhere.) How many of their people have been paid off by rival gangs? This might be exactly the guy they're looking for. Kinn is restless and unhappy. Dad checkmates his bodyguard, who is resignedly good-humored about it, presumably from LONG experience. I ship it.

Meanwhile, Porsche comes charging into his house (NOT wet, by the way; did he stop at laundromat or something on the way?), yelling, "Chay, pack your bags!" But when he comes inside, Chay is cleaning up the living room: the house has been trashed. Porsche thinks it was Kinn's people, but it turns out no, it is shady landlord! Porsche goes looking for him and finds him in an alley, directing his flunkies to beat Uncle up. Porsche doesn't get it: they paid him! Didn't they? No, it turns out that Uncle is a gambler, and owes Shady Guy two million baht. Porsche gets them to lay off Uncle by promising to get the money to them by tomorrow; Shady Guy says he'd better or they're both dead. There follows a VERY sad scene where Porsche is hurt and furious at Uncle, who is alternately defensive and abject. Porsche tells him to get lost, they're not family anymore.

Porsche comes back to the house and starts sadly cleaning up (it was, by the way, the politest trashing ever: stuff is knocked over and spilled off of shelves, but as far as I can see, nothing is actually broken; maybe the prop department didn't want anything messed up?). Chay brings him food, and Porsche tries to cheer him up; Chay, on the other hand, tries to convince Porsche that the way to solve their money problem is to leave the house, move somewhere smaller, Chay can work instead of going to expensive school, etc. Porsche, predictably, is not on board with this: he loves the house, he wants Chay to have a degree and a good life, he doesn't want to disappoint their parents. Chay tearfully presses his point, to no avail. They hug and cry and eventually Chay goes to bed and Porsche tugs a blanket over him and darkly contemplates the future.

[Just ONCE I would like one of these scenes to end with the Designated Protector saying, "You know, Designated Protectee, you make a good point!"]

Sure enough, when Chay gets up the next morning, he finds a note saying that Porsche has solved all their problems! Yok has a rich friend who's going to clear all their debts, but in exchange Porsche has to go tend bar on their private island, where there's no cell service. Too bad! But everything's wonderful! No need to worry! It is not clear how much Chay buys this. Meanwhile, of course, Porsche is being led into the Theerapanyakun compound by Ken and a be-slinged Big.

[This is gonna go great.]

He says to Kinn, "Don't forget our deal." Kinn: "Well, you don't forget that your life is mine now." Porsche, indignantly: "My life is mine." Big loudly objects to anyone talking to Mr. Kinn like this. Porsche: "Why can't I? Are you a god?" (Ken says, "Hey, watch your mouth," in English, because the actor is Australian and this show never misses a native English speaker opportunity if it can help it.) Big keeps objecting, but Kinn cuts him off, and then Dad's bodyguard comes in to call Porsche in to meet the boss, causing Big to shake his head in despair and Kinn to chug a finger of something expensive. No one is happy!

[A totally reasonable alternate title for KinnPorsche: The Series would be, "How This Rando Ruined Big's Life."]

They all troop over to meet Dad, who says to Porsche, smiling gently, "I heard you didn't want to work here. But I'd love for you to be here and be happy." Porsche, tiredly: "To hell with happiness." Awww, buddy, that attitude is probably best for now, actually! Dad keeps smiling and says, "And about your brother, don't worry. I'll take care of him as promised." Porsche very obviously is not comfortable with this much attention on his family from this many dangerous rich people, and retaliates by saying, "If you really want me to be the bodyguard here, I must be in charge of these two," and points to Ken and Big, who are Not Pleased. Dad is pretty tickled at this display of bravado, though - Kinn, too, in the background - and he laughs and says, "Good. You've got the guts. All right. Because now Big isn't in good condition." Big, desperately: "But sir…" Dad's smile disappears, he shoots Big a look, and Big immediately shuts up and bows. Can't wait to work for this guy!

[What a coincidence, my dad's fountain-overlooking balcony-tower looks exactly like this one!]

Dad dismisses all the bodyguards, while Kinn stays behind for one last attempt at dubiousness about all of this, but it falls on deaf ears. We cut to Dad and his bodyguard alone, at chess; he says, "At last, all the pieces are in place." DUN DUN DUNNNNN. End of episode!

So that is KinnPorsche. Stay tuned for next time, when everything gets worse!

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kpts #recap

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lust-for-celebs · 1 month

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TinaKitten smut below. A brief interruption by Valkyrae. Non-Con.

Tina bit back a moan as she felt the man thrust ever deeper inside her. The room around her was dark, and the only sounds were the creaks of her bed that played in tune with their grunts and moans, and her quiet sobs. Each thrust pushed him into her tight asshole slightly further, and she had to fight not to make any noise even harder.

She didn’t know why this was happening to her, nor was she certain how the man had even gotten to her. All she knew was the consequences if she let anyone else know what was happening. If she even so much as began to cry out for help, he’d move on to raping the other girls too, and kill anyone who was too much trouble.

Finally, he had managed to bury himself to the hilt, and he held himself in place as she whined from the feeling. Her ass clenched around him as he pulled back until just the tip remained inside before pushing back in. He moved slower than he would have liked, but he needed to be careful. It wouldn’t make much sense for Tina to have snuck an unfamiliar man inside after all.

The less need to lie the better.

Hips met ass and balls met pussy as he grunted and thought back on how he had reached this point. It was so easy. He almost couldn’t believe it despite the tight warmth that wrapped itself around him.

A group of beautiful girls filming themselves is incredibly noticeable. Especially if they’re a group internet celebrity cuties. They were so careless about it all too. You’d think they would be more cautious given their position, but he barely even had to try to stay hidden while he followed them back to their house.

His grip tightened around her slender waist. Her soft skin molded under his fingers. He slowed himself to a halt, making sure to stop with himself buried as deeply inside as he could.

“You know, there were a lot of chances for one of you to prevent this from happening,” he spoke quietly but with force. The mockery dripped from every word.

Tina wasn’t sure if she even wanted to respond. One part of her was curious to know what he meant. The other just wanted it to end, and for him to be gone. The two sides ripped at her to get her to ask for him to clarify what he meant, and to keep her silent, so he wouldn’t get anymore satisfaction.

The end result was a groaning cry that pushed crawled its way out of her throat.

“Do you know how long I followed you and your friends?” He pushed her shirt and skirt further up to let his hands run over her exposed skin. “Hours.”

Tina whined at his words and the feeling of his hands roaming over her body. Her bra was discarded so he could run his left hand over her small breasts while his other hand rested flat over her tight stomach.

“And then, you led me right to your home and left the door wide open while you were all distracted.” He squeezed her small, soft tit and ran his thumb over her nipple.

She shuddered and breathed out a barely audible, “Why?”

He chuckled as he pulled his hips back and rammed himself as deep as he could in one swift motion. A high-pitched yelp filled the room and Tina held her hands to her mouth letting her head and shoulders fall forward into the bed.

“Why not? I see a group of beauties out in town, and they’re some of the biggest cockteases around, and they don’t even so much as close the door behind them. How could I resist using the cutie of the group when all I had to do was put a knife to your neck and threaten your friends?”

He pulled back again and brought his hands to her small, rounded ass. A light smack on her right cheek caused her to squeak out in surprise.

“So little effort to be able to fuck your cute, little ass. So small, but adorable, just like you. How could I resist flipping your skirt up and fucking you like this when I got the chance?”

Losing himself, he began to pick up speed. It was still rather slow, but he kept a constant pace, and his voice began to strain from the pleasure as he fought to stay quiet. Tina bit her hand to keep from moaning from the rough anal pounding.

“Your tight tummy. Your cute face. Your petite body. It’s all so fucking irresistible. And I might not be able to use you if even just one of you was a little more cautious.”

The fact that it could have been prevented tore at her mind. Why hadn’t she just locked the door behind her? Why hadn’t they just looked behind them to see if anyone was following them? Tears began to form at the edges of her eyes.

He kept at it for another few minutes, thrusting deeply and relishing every sensation. Every second, he could feel himself getting closer to the edge. The pleasure built up until someone knocked on the door.

They both froze as Valkyrae called out behind the door, “Tina, you okay? You haven’t come out of your room since we got back?”

He leaned forward and whispered into Tina’s ear, “Answer her. Remember what happens if she finds out something’s going on.”

The tip of his knife pressed into the back of her neck. The threat was clear, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. She had to be careful, or her friends might suffer the same as her.

“Y–yeah. Just t–tired,” Tina stuttered out as she found her voice.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to take an early night,” each word dripped with tension as Tina struggled to get them out.

“Well, okay,” Valkyrae spoke hesitantly, “I’m gonna go take a shower and go to bed. You can talk to anyone here if you need something. Alright?”

“I know, Rae–eee!” Tina started with growing agitation in her voice before a surprise movement from the man behind her to a screeching halt.

She pushed her face into the bed and groaned as Valkyrae called out, “Tina? You okay?” The doorknob rattled, but, thankfully, the man was able to remember to lock it after hectic walked in.

“Yes, Rae!” Tina didn’t mean to shout, but she needed Rae to go already, and the man behind her had begun moving again.

“O–okay, s–sorry. Uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They heard footsteps in the hallway, and Tina sighed.

“Fucking finally. I was getting tired of waiting. Is she always such a nosey, annoying fucking bitch?” He picked back up to where he was before.

“Fuck you.”

Tina tried to show strength and defend her friend, but all she got was a hand around her neck squeezing her throat.

“Don’t you fucking talk back to me, bitch, or I’ll make you watch me break your slutty bitch friend. Got it?”

Tina nodded as best she could.

“What was that?”

He loosened his grip and she muttered out a, “Yes.”

“Good. Now, do you say when you make a mistake?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Good girl.”

He kept going for another few minutes. His thrusts were now rougher, and he manhandled her body like a toy. Finally, after what felt like hours, he pushed deeply one last time and unloaded inside her. She could feel every pulsation and each shot of cum as it hit her bowels.

“Oh, fuck. That felt fucking good. So fucking good. I knew the cute little Tina would be good for milking me dry.”

The man slid out of her slowly. Each inch took an eternity as Tina kept her face buried in the bed. She didn’t want to make any noise now, and she knew what was coming next. A hand grabbed her hair and pulled her up so her eyes would come to level with his crotch. He leveled his messy cock with her lips, and she opened her mouth rather than bother putting up a fight.

“Back into your pretty little mouth.”

She felt the man’s cock slide down her throat for the second time that night. This time, she tasted herself mixed with his cum on her tongue as her lips wrapped around the invading piece of meat. It was much easier the second time around.

“Keep it up. We’re gonna be here for a while. I’m not leaving until I’m sure no one’s gonna see me.”

Tina didn’t respond but just let him use her throat as he pleased. He pinched her nose and kept her forced down around him as she tried to push against him. Finally, he let her go, and she pulled back letting out a cough as he laughed at her.

She hated this. She hated the man in front of her. She hated herself for not closing the door. She just wanted him to leave. She just wanted this to end, but she was powerless to do anything for now, and she just had to hope he was dumb enough to leave some sort of evidence.

But, for the next few hours, she had to take his abuse as he used her body to get off. At least he, for some reason, agreed to only use her ass and mouth if she cleaned him off between rounds. She wasn’t sure how much of a positive that was, but she chose to look for anything to make this better as he rolled her onto her back.

Tears flowed freely as he pushed into her once again.

She closed her eyes and bit back a moan.

#TinaKitten #Valkyrae

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freelancearsonist · 4 years

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Humbled

Blue Jones x fem!Reader

Rated MA for graphic sexual content and use of language

4,321 words

A/N: So... yeah. This is a thing. It’s probably just complete trash, but I’m starting to realize that I have a kink for topping very dominant characters 👀 As always, feedback would be greatly appreciated! :)

You’re a tough puzzle to solve, but Blue’s never one to back away from a challenge.

The problem is, no matter how hard he tries—no matter how much time he spends pondering the situation until his head hurts—he can’t figure out a single way to get you in his orbit. You know each other in passing. But you’re a nurse, and he’s an orderly. If anything, you have more power than he does.

Things are a little different on the flip side, though.

When he’s in charge, he’s your employer. Technically. But he owns you in a very different way than he owns the rest of the girls, and that’s what has him so thoroughly stumped.

You’re not a dancer. You’re not a hooker. You’re not even a cocktease (not officially, anyway, although the amount of times you’ve been on his mind late at night would suggest otherwise).

You’re just a nurse. You take care of the girls when they get sick, when a client gets a little too rough, or when Blue needs to teach a lesson. You clean up other people’s messes.

And because you look after them—because you care—they trust you. You’ve become something of an inspiration to the girls; a reassuring shoulder to cry on when things seem too difficult to endure.

And because they trust you, because they know that you have their best interests in mind first and foremost, they tell you about their plan of escape.

You know there’s no escape. Not for you. But you also know there’s a good chance that they can make it.

Baby’s plan is clear. There’s no margin for error. Sweet Pea’s instruction is clear, as well. If Blue catches wind, it’s off. No ifs, ands, or buts.

The thing about Blue is that nothing gets past him. He has eyes and ears everywhere. He keeps a tight ship.

So when he starts sniffing around, Sweet Pea calls it off. Says it’s time for the whole thing to end. That it’s better to quit while they’re ahead and alive.

You beg them not to give up. That there’s still plenty of hope to be had.

And there is. Because you know how Blue looks at you, and you know you’ll be a far better distraction to him than Baby’s dancing—although the way she moves is ethereal.

You should be terrified. You know what Blue’s capable of—you’ve seen it first hand. You’ve repaired the damage he causes for far too long.

But when you brush against him in the hallway and ask for him to meet you in the last room on the left—the cleanest of all the ‘pleasure rooms’—you’re anything but terrified. You exude confidence, and it helps make Blue’s pants just that little bit tighter. He’s under the assumption that he’s going to get to knock the bratty air right out of you. He couldn’t be any more wrong.

You sit patiently on the edge of the bed, knowing full well that he won’t be able to resist your invitation. That’s Blue’s biggest weakness—he’s a slave to his own lust. He can’t say no when pleasure is involved.

He wears a blood red button-up tucked into gray trousers, his black tie loose around his neck. His pants are tight, and you have to remind yourself that this isn’t why you’re here. You’re here to take him out of play for a little bit. To keep him occupied while the girls do what they have to do. You have to stay vigilant. If you cave to your own desires, you’ll put the entire plan in jeopardy.

“Look at you, Dollface,” he coos as he shuts the door behind him. His eyes skim appreciatively over your figure, adorned in a simple and skimpy black dress. Nicer than what he’s used to seeing you in, yet still practical. “All done up. Finally ready to give yourself over to me?”

So arrogant. You have to bite back a laugh at how sure he is of himself.

“Yes, sir,” you purr, batting your eyelashes up at him.

He growls, eyes narrowing as he takes a step closer. “I’ve been tryin’ to get my hands on you since you first stepped your pretty little self into this place. Never figured out how.”

Your hands slowly trail up your dress, to the top button. He grunts as you flick it open.

“Well, now’s your chance,” you grin, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

He practically pounces, somehow still managing to be gentle as he pushes you back and pins your hands over your head.

And this is the perfect position, because you can reach the handcuffs you left on the pillow and loop them around his wrists before his lips even come into contact with yours.

It happens so fast that it nearly takes his breath away. You tighten the cuffs and push him over onto his back, and your weight on his hips as you secure his hands to the headboard turns him on more than it should.

“What—” he cuts himself off, so thoroughly confused as you push yourself away and stand up.

“C’mon, Blue,” you laugh softly. “You didn’t seriously think that was going to happen, did you? You’re sick. You hurt people. I don’t want you.”

Maybe you can lie to him, but you certainly can’t lie to yourself. Seeing the way his muscles strain against his tight clothes with his arms over his head, in prime position to take anything you want to give to him? You’re soaked. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

Blue’s no idiot, though. He knows. You’re oozing pheromones—he can practically smell your arousal.

And he smiles. He smiles, because he thinks he’s won. “Yeah? You like this, don’t you? You like makin’ your little power move? Like seein’ me tied up?”

He seems to be enjoying this, which you definitely didn’t expect. From all the stories you’ve heard, he’s a toxic dominant type. From what you know of his personality, he shouldn’t look so pleased to be restrained.

“Well, one of us is certainly enjoying it,” you laugh softly, your eyes flickering down to the tent in his pants. He’s hard and lusting for you, and you don’t know how you ever thought you’d be able to resist putting him in his place.

“You are, aren’t you?” You laugh softly, tauntingly. “You like being tied up. You’re getting all worked up for me.”

He practically growls, shifting his legs in search of some kind of relief. But there’s none to be found—not without your touch.

You let your eyes drag over him; perfectly-styled hair, beautiful dark eyes, pristinely trimmed mustache, full lips, corded neck, broad shoulders, sturdy chest, wide hips, muscular thighs, long calves. There’s seemingly miles and miles of Blue for you to touch and kiss and tease. You want to get your hands on every inch of him.

It’s wrong. You shouldn’t lay a finger on him. Your job in this part of the plan is to tie him up, administer a very light dosage of benzodiazepines, then reassure him that he fell and hit his head or something when he wakes up.

But there’s room for error there. If the dosage is too much or not enough, it could ruin everything. Not to mention that the story you’ll have to spin is incredibly flimsy.

If you fuck him, though, it gives an air-tight reason for the two of you to be in here. It distracts him from everything else without you having to lie about a blackout in his memory.

So really, giving in to your lust is the best option. It’s the most beneficial course of action.

“You look good like this,” you coo, taking a step closer. Blue involuntarily licks his lips as his dark eyes meet yours.

“Yeah? You gettin’ wet from this?” He chuckles. You can tell he’s trying as hard as he can to gain and maintain the upper hand, but there’s no way you’re allowing that.

You tut disapprovingly as you reach the edge of the mattress. “Hot talk for the guy handcuffed to the headboard.”

“C’mon,” he growls dangerously, his hips rocking upwards. “Don’t make me wait, Dollface.”

You just smile maliciously as your fingers brush over his clothed calf. “It doesn’t really look to me like you’re in a position to be calling the shots, Blue.”

The way you enunciate the single syllable of his name has a shiver rolling down his spine, and you take pride in the way his muscles contract. He wants you. You hold all the power—and not just because he’s restrained.

You’ve hardly touched him. You haven’t even kissed him. Yet he’s willing to swear his entire life over to you—about ready to burst straight through the seam of his expensive trousers.

“So hard for me already,” you coo. He gulps involuntarily as you crawl onto the mattress, hovering too far above him to provide any relief. “I haven’t touched you yet.”

“I wish you would,” he hums. His eyes set determinedly, and you can tell that he isn’t going to break easily. His ego is his most valued virtue, and it won’t be easy to strip that away.

You shake your head, leaning down so your nose just barely brushes against his. “I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.”

“What do you need from me?”

He’s always thinking three steps ahead. Always calculating what he needs to offer for what he wants to get.

This isn’t that kind of exchange, though.

You hum thoughtfully as you trail your fingertips over his soft, thin mustache. “I think you need to realize that you’re not in control.”

He scoffs at that, but he shifts slightly. The idea of yielding power makes him uncomfortable. “I’m always in control.”

“Not tonight.”

He gulps again, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s not used to this new role that he’s suddenly being shown, but he’s certainly a quick learner. And perhaps he’s familiar with the rules because he’s so often forced girls into the situation that he now occupies. He knows how to please you because he knows how he likes to be pleased.

“What are you going to do to me?” He doesn’t sound afraid—merely interested. Hopeful.

“Everything you want,” you tell him, delighting in the way his eyes flutter closed as you trail your open mouth down his nose. “If you’re good, that is.”

He grunts when you shift your weight, setting yourself over his stomach so you can run your hands over his chest. You’re still seated too far away from his aching cock to provide any friction, and it’s maddening.

“Have I been good so far?”

Your fingers slowly brush over his lips, and he has the strange urge to take them into his mouth. To show you just how much he wants you to claim him.

“Actually, you’ve been a bit of a brat.”

You loosen his tie and carefully pull it over his head. “You’ve been arrogant. Over-confident. You’ve back-talked.”

His eyebrows furrow together a little more with each accusation. Clearly, he figured that you would give in to him easily. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“I wouldn’t say you’ve earned anything,” you continue even as you flick open the top button of his shirt. “Not yet, anyway.”

He’s so close. Just a little bit more encouragement, and he’ll be right where you want him.

So you do the best thing you can think of. You overwhelm his senses by sliding your hands over his chest and pressing your lips to his.

The pace of the first kiss isn’t nearly what Blue wants it to be. He’s perfectly fine with rushing in headfirst and taking everything quickly. But this kiss is slow and deep—probing. You’re mapping his mouth; running your tongue over every dip and contour to memorize the feel of him. And he submits willingly; no use in resisting any longer. Not when you’re starting to give him what he wants.

And then you pull back, and he groans at the loss. His eyes are dark and hooded—you’ve gotten under his skin. You’ve penetrated his resolve. All that’s left of him is pure want and carnal instinct.

“I want you to ask nicely for me to fuck you,” you whisper, your lips just barely grazing against his. “C’mon. I know you know how. You make all the other girls beg for your cock. So do it. Beg for my pussy.”

This is humiliating, and you love it. He loves it too, normally—when he’s not on the receiving end. But he’s slowly starting to realize that the way you speak down to him is only making his heart beat faster and his cock throb harder. You’ve knocked him down a thousand pegs, and it’s absolutely thrilling.

“Please.” It’s a gruff single syllable, and he’s stupid to think that it’ll be enough.

“Uh-uh,” you tut, running your fingertips over his thin mustache. “No easy way out. You can do better than that. Tell me how much you need me or I’ll leave you wanting.”

“Please,” he repeats, dark eyes shining with need. “Please, I need you to fuck me. Need you to make me feel good. I need you.”

He’s certainly asking nicely, and the way he’s writhing underneath you has your clit pulsing. Maybe you’re better at concealing your desire, but you need him just as much as he needs you.

So you lean down and kiss him again, your tongue swiping over his bottom lip and pulling a groan from him. Your fingers make quick work of the buttons of his shirt and you pull it wide open before leaning back to admire all of the new skin revealed to you.

He practically whines as you ghost your fingertips over his chest, tracing every ridge and contour of muscle. And then your nails scrape just barely over his nipples, and he actually does whine.

“You like that?” You grin proudly, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Mmm, you look good like this.”

“Please,” he gasps, his jaw clenched as he tries his hardest to keep some semblance of pride about him. “Don’t tease.”

“It’s so fun to watch you squirm, though,” you taunt as you shift to the side. He watches with wide eyes as you start unbuttoning your dress. “So needy, tied up for me like this. You sure you want this?”

“More than anything,” he pants, swallowing thickly as your chest comes into view.

You stand up to let the fabric slide off of your shoulders, and he lets out a low groan.

“Can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ all that under scrubs.”

You smile proudly at the way his eyes darken—at the way his cock twitches when your arms reach behind your back to unhook your bra.

“Like what you see?”

He nods eagerly, eyes roving over every inch of you. There’s not a single part of you that he wouldn’t kill to get his hands on. He’s taken lives for much less.

With only your panties remaining, you crawl back over him and dip to kiss him once more. “What do you want?”

He grunts and pushes his hips up, then second-guesses himself.

“Wanna taste you,” he announces, straining against the handcuffs. The urge to touch you is overwhelming, and the fact that he’s restrained just makes every other sensation sharper and more intense.

“Yeah?” You smile excitedly. “Want me to sit on that pretty face of yours?”

He nods again, grunting as you run your fingers through his neatly styled hair. He looks so good with his hair slightly mussed up, shirt pulled open and pants tented. And it’s all because of you. You feel like a god.

“Okay,” you sigh happily. “You take care of me, then I’ll take care of your cock. Sound good?”

“C’mon,” he urges you, nodding his agreement. “I need something. Anything.”

You suppose that’s fair—he’s already been so patient and good for you. So, as you shift aside to work your underwear down your legs, you let your leg gently brush against his firm cock. He groans at the slight pressure, bucking towards you even as you move away.

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” he mumbles, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he watches you remove your last article of clothing. “Wanna be buried in you so bad. Bet you have such a nice, tight cunt.”

You just grin wickedly as you kick off your underwear. “Be good and you’ll find out.”

He strains against the handcuffs once again as you level yourself over his face, desperately trying to dive forward towards your soaked heat.

He wastes no time once you’re close enough, his thin mustache providing a strange yet pleasurable friction as he eagerly laps at your folds.

“Fuck!” You sigh, rocking your hips against his shapely chin as he kitten licks at your clit. “You’ve got a sinful little mouth on you, huh?”

He moans eagerly against you, and the vibration goes straight up your spine.

“You taste so good. I’ve wanted to eat your pussy for so long,” he murmurs, then dives back in quickly. His nose keeps constant pressure on your clit as he shoves his tongue deep inside of you.

He delights in the moan you let out as he fucks you with his tongue. He can’t even be bothered to care that you’re practically smothering him—he’d suffocate himself in your pussy a hundred times over just to keep your taste in his mouth.

“Shit,” you gasp as you feel the familiar coil tightening in your belly. “You’re good at this, baby.”

He shivers a little bit at the pet name—he uses them rather frequently, but he’s always been “Blue” or “Mr. Jones”. And occasionally “daddy”. Never before has he been “baby”. He likes it.

“You like eating my pussy?” Your hand slowly slides down, over your chest and your stomach, and tangles into his short hair. He grunts at the feeling and nods in answer to your question.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he growls, nipping at your clit. It sends a jolt straight through you, and you have to brace yourself on either side of his bound arms so you don’t fall right over. “Best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help smiling as you throw your head back. You’re close. Just a little more pressure, and—

Blue’s strangely in touch with your body, apparently, because he knows exactly what you need to reach your release. He takes his tongue from your dripping core and swipes it over your clit, giving you as much pressure as he possibly can.

You practically rattle apart as your orgasm washes through you, and it doesn’t help that Blue isn’t letting up even a little bit. He keeps tongue fucking you through your bliss, eager to please and simultaneously enraptured by the sounds you make and the way you grind into his greedy mouth.

You pull away when the sensations become too much, and strangely enough Blue finds himself to be the one disappointed by your disappearance from his mouth. He finds himself arching towards you, groaning indignantly when he can’t move beyond raising his head to watch you.

“Fuck,” he growls, watching you with primal lust as you lower yourself down his body. “Please. I need to be inside you. Please let me fill you up. I’ll make you feel so good, sweetheart. Please.”

You smile proudly as you start unbuckling his belt—clearly, he doesn’t need to be instructed to beg for you anymore.

“You’ve been so good for me,” you praise him, and you see him swallow thickly as you undo his button. “I think it’s time I took care of you. Do you think you’ve earned it?”

He grunts again as you brush your knuckles firmly over his clothed length.

“Yes,” he hisses, his eyes fluttering shut when you do it again. “God, yes, I’ve been so good for you. Please make me come.”

You can’t help being amazed at the position you’ve gotten him in. Never before has he been so humbled. Never before has he had to beg. Big Bad Blue has been reduced to a whiny, needy mess for you. If only the girls could see him now. If only everyone could see him.

You make quick work of his pants, purposefully brushing your hands against him at every opportunity, and he wordlessly raises his hips for you to push them down his thighs. You can’t be bothered to get them off any further—you only need access to his cock, anyway.

And boy, is his cock nice. Long and veiny, nearly perfectly proportioned. You want to take him in your mouth—see how far you can take him down your throat before he starts shaking and panting for you.

But you need him in your cunt even more—your legs are practically quivering with arousal.

“You ready for me?” You ask quietly, dipping down to press your lips firmly to his. He eagerly submits to your kiss; lets you lead even though his instincts scream for him to take control of the action.

“Fuck me,” he growls so firmly that it almost sounds like a command. But you both know better—it’s nothing short of a plea. His ego is stripped away. His arrogance is gone. All that remains is primal instinct—unadulterated need.

He swears as you finally accept him into your warmth, muscles flexing vainly against the constraint of the handcuffs.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans when you seat yourself firmly against his hips. He’s already gasping for air, and this is the first relief you’ve provided him. “God... tight. So fucking... tight.”

“How do I feel, baby?” You laugh softly, your fingertips trailing over his parted lips as he tries to regain his breath.

“So good,” he pants. “So fucking good. Better than anyone I’ve ever had. God, sweetheart... I... I’m not going to last long.”

You suppose you can’t blame him—you’ve done pretty much nothing but tease him this entire time.

You raise up and impale yourself down on him again, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue. “Just try and hold on for me, baby.”

He nods desperately, gulping again as you start to set a quick pace on him.

“You feel good,” you praise, and it sends a flush to his cheeks. “Such a nice cock. You like being used like this?”

“Yes,” he groans, his hips desperately rolling up to chase your movements. “God, yes. Take it from me. Fuck, honey. Shit, I’m all yours.”

You lean down to trail your lips over his corded neck, grinding just perfectly to get constant pressure from his pubic bone on your clit.

“Mmm, so good to me,” you sigh as you pick up your pace a bit. “Letting me use you like this. You’d be such a good little fuck toy, wouldn’t you?”

He groans at the absolute filth coming from your mouth. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m your fuck toy. I want you to come all over my dick. Please. I’ve been so good.”

You almost laugh at the sheer vulnerability he’s been reduced to. But you’re at a loss for words because all of a sudden the pressure’s too much and you’re clamping around his cock like he’s a lifeline.

He feels it, too—tries desperately to rut harder into you because he knows your orgasm will give way to his.

And then your hand slides up his chest and settles over the column of his throat.

He gasps at the slight pressure, and before he can warn you he’s coming undone. He groans long and loud as his cock spasms, filling you to the brim. And then you’re shaking on top of him, your second orgasm burning in your very bones as his release coats your convulsing walls.

“Fuck,” he gasps as you collapse against his chest, your pussy still spasming around him. “Sweetheart—“

And then you’re lifting off of him, and he groans at the loss of sensation.

He lets his eyes flutter closed as you grab ahold of his strong forearms, prepared for you to release him from his restraints, and then he feels your warmth over his face again.

“C’mon,” you urge him, gently tugging on his hair. “Clean me up, then I’ll let you go.”

“What?” He knows you’re referring to the cum that’s slowly dripping down your thighs, but part of him doesn’t believe it. You really want him to eat his own seed?

“You heard me,” you sigh, looking down at him to make sure it’s actually okay. “You’ve been so good for me, baby. Don’t break your streak now.”

He gulps. This is a venture he’s never taken before. Who really wants to know the taste of their own release?

The first lick is slow, and he nearly flinches away as he catches the small trail that runs down your thigh. It’s somehow salty and sweet at the same time, and he’s more repulsed by the fact that he kind of likes it rather than the actual act of swallowing his own cum.

He drinks eagerly from you, despising himself for enjoying such a revolting act.

At some point while he cleans you up, your hands release him from his restraints. He flexes his stiff arms, then grabs onto your hips and holds you in place until he’s finished the job.

And then he flips you onto your back and presses you firmly into the mattress, his lips rough against yours as he nips at your lips.

“If you so much as breathe a word about this, to anyone, I will kill you.”

You know he will. But that’s not why a shiver runs down your spine.

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell,” you laugh softly as he nuzzles his nose into the side of your neck. “And if you ever need to let loose for a while again, you know how to find me.”

THE END

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#blue jones #blue jones imagine #blue jones fanfiction #blue jones one shot #blue jones x reader #blue jones x you #blue jones x y/n #sucker punch #sucker punch imagine #sucker punch fanfiction #sucker punch one shot #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #cece writes

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corhore · 3 years

Text

Don't know if I already sent this to you. But, : Re: About Kindred, Nick Spencer, and The Order

Yeah, just read the latest issue I’d Amazing Spider-Man, while the issue was good, it’s really something that shows that Nick might not be the best guy for Spidey. Be happy that he’s gonna acknowledge OMD. But, the guy for the last several issues has Not put up enough strength for a story. Most of this was just pretty stretching. It’s just dragging alot. Not much strength or anything interesting or impactful is reaching it. And the rest part is, the latest issue is just Really a whole big nothing because of what happened in issue 50. It’s just Really not good.

In fact, in an interview a while back, Nick mentioned that since people guessed that it was Harry, Nick decided that he wasn’t gonna be able to give off a mystery. Meaning, the guy decided not to even try to make it a mystery. With that, that just shows how unprofessional Nick is as a writer and how much of a wasted character Kindred is. Part of a mystery is when you are suppose to keep people in your seat. You’re suppose to make people feel excited for a mystery character. You are Suppose to have the character do something interesting and/or exciting and so far, Kindred has not given anything interesting or exciting. With how the Absolute Carnage arc gave it, it was clear that Nick didn’t give a crap about anything anymore. With all that, I just don’t think he’s the right guy.

Say what you want about what he’s gonna do with OMD, but, you have to ask yourself, what does this mean for the later stories. Is he gonna try to make them stronger? Is he gonna try to make them impactful? Is he gonna give them enough strength? With all that said, with what Nick had done, I’m just Very concerned on what he might do in the later issues of ASM.

Hellzyeah and you guys just say stuff about Zdarsky. But, give Zdarsky credit, at least he tries to make things interesting. At least he tried to make Peter and everyone in character. At least he tried to make the stories and characters more interesting. Nick just doesn’t even try as much. He just shows that as a writer especially for someone like Spidey, he shows that he does not have that strength.

We need something like an Al Ewing, and so far, with what he has been doing with Kindred, he was not it honestly.

Honestly i don’t really mind the pacing or the reveal of Kindred. I’ve been enjoying the book for the most part. I think the defining factor for if this book is good is wether or not OMD gets undone or Peter and MJ get married. If neither happen then this book will go down as the biggest cocktease in comic history.

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youllallriseintheink · 4 years

Note

Are you really just gonna cocktease us with Death and Taxes and then not tell us anything?? I want those sexy details! How was it different from Sammy's relationship with Joey? (He said it was different, right?)

Ask and thou shalt receive. I have plenty of sexy details for you.

The biggest difference between Death and Taxes and Nightmare Symphony (I’m using that as a ship name now) is that Joey genuinely appreciates Sammy as a person and was never planning on just using him as a toy. Thus, he abused Sammy out of desire to make him incapable of leaving, while he abused Grant to vent general frustration.

The Death and Taxes relationship started with Joey feeling a little lonely and hoping to break a dry spell. Grant happened to have a meeting with him that day, and he was acting all intimidated because he had to report some bad financial news. Joey found that very amusing (and was not concentrated on the report at all), and started asking about Grant’s marital status and other personal questions, which flustered Grant even more, which got Joey even more interested. Since Grant was single (even better- recently divorced), well, that’s when they planned their first date. After the date, Grant was basically like, ‘what just happened? Did I like it? Will it happen again…?’

‘Joey took me out, and then took me to bed. I… did like it. He’s exciting. But it probably won’t happen again.’

But it did. Joey started taking Grant out whenever he wanted to feel big and powerful, or knocking on his door whenever he wanted sex. (This could mean at three in the morning or in his office during work hours.) Grant rarely said no to him unless he had good reason to. He knew he was just a toy, but his thinking was that he should enjoy it while it lasts. So they were both getting something out of it, and there was nothing abusive about their relationship.

In a realistic Death and Taxes story, one of three things would happen at this point: 1) Joey would get bored of Grant and stop taking him out, and would fuck him less often until eventually he found a new toy and their encounters would end completely, 2) one of them would find a partner and break things off for monogamy’s sake, or 3) the novelty would wear off, Grant would start to resent being used, eventually grow a spine, and cut things off. Minimal pain either way.

This, however, is not that story. In this story, Joey accidentally starts developing feelings for Grant. Joey gets really frustrated over those unwanted feelings. Grant, as far as Joey was concerned, was not lovable. All he was supposed to be was a toy. And now that he was getting boring and comfortable in their relationship (if you haven’t picked up on it, Joey enjoys making him nervous), Joey was stuck with the annoying inability to just walk away, no feelings hurt.

Joey coped with his unwanted feelings through constant put-downs (‘I have no idea why I’m doing this with you.’ ‘You’re so boring.’ ‘You’re so pathetic.’ ‘Come on. Why can’t you keep up with me?’ ‘(When the studio’s finances are bad) You can’t even do what I hired you for.’ Stuff like that.). Grant was always a good person to rant to, apparently even if the subject of the rant was himself (Grant was keeping Joey at an emotional distance, too, and convinced himself he didn’t care). Joey also started bruising Grant up during sex- punches, rough grabbing, knees to the ribs, stuff like that. (“It’s just a little rough sex, don’t be so dramatic. I won’t hit your face.”) Grant wasn’t very confident to begin with, and the mistreatment wore him down until he felt pretty much unlovable.

Joey eventually accepted that his feelings weren’t going away, made things official, and promised to be gentler with Grant. Grant accepted- at this point he desperately wanted to be treated lovingly and to feel wanted.

The thing is, once you’re used to using something (or someone) in response to certain emotions, not using it anymore is hard. So, Joey still used Grant as a punching bag to let out frustration, though somewhat less frequently now. The abuse and controlling behaviour never got as bad as it did with Sammy. Grant broke things off six weeks after they’d made their relationship official, in response to Joey slapping him across the face in public, hard enough to leave a hand-shaped bruise and a crack in his glasses. Getting rough in the bedroom Grant could justify, words could be deserved, but striking him out of what was clearly impulsive anger was abuse, plain and simple.

There were a lot of spiteful words when Joey broke up with him- that Grant was pathetic, didn’t deserve him anyway, that Joey had no idea why they were even dating to begin with, that he would never find anyone who loved him, that Joey was the closest he’d ever have. Thankfully, Norman was right there with him.

And, well, the break-up put Grant pretty high up the list next time Joey needed a soul for his ink machine experiments, so Joey killed him about a week later.

So, yeah… not as abusive as Nightmare Symphony, but there was a lot less love between them. Just frustration and desperation.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #grant cohen #joey drew #sammy lawrence #nightmare symphony #death and taxes

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hastybooks · 6 years

Text

likes to watch

hastybooks: being a goalie is so stressful! it's a good thing the preds d is so deep (juuse/pk is like. so much)

fuhrmana: My mouth just went dry

Pekka scrapes his thumb along Juuse's neck, as they both look at PK kneeling between Juuse's sore thighs, telling him in Finnish how generous PK is, how PK makes more of an effort for his goalies than that pretty, petty, selfish Roman. Juuse doesn't need to imagine how PK can bend him into shape, because PK's got his hands on him and Pekka's eyes on both of them.

Juuse blushes at how PK licks his dick, soft and appreciative, the deep pink of his cock vivid against PK's thumb as he leans in to swallow him down. Shit, Juuse thought Pekka had wrung all of the embarrassment out of him only like a man who regularly walks around the room naked, along with what little was left of his own virginity--

When PK looks up through his eyelashes, almost a smirk on his face, like he knows he's good at sucking cock and enjoys it, Juuse makes a strangled noise. PK leans back, his eyebrow quirked in a question, but he doesn't drift back to Pekka like the other boys do. Juuse's the first one to crack as he shivers, "Keep going. Please."

PK licks his palm, vulgar and practiced, like he learned how to do that in Juniors along with his skating, and it makes Juuse whine, conscious of how pink he is all over. PK strokes his thighs, and says, "You shouldn't be shy about what you want."

He looks over and smirks at Pekka, who's very happy supervising, and adds, "Not everyone can read your mind, Juuse."

Juuse swallows, laying his fingers over PK's close curls, his pinky brushing against PK's groomed eyebrow, "Suck me off, PK--" in a tone that isn't as commanding as it is needy, and PK cradles Juuse's balls.

"Be meaner," PK says, "or we'll eat you alive."

Heat washes up Juuse's spine. They have eaten him, their teeth digging in every inch of skin Pekka allowed, their tongues pressed flat against the small of his back, his fingers, and Juuse curls his toes against the sauna wood. He pretends to be a foot taller and fifteen years meaner, as he says, "Suck me off, Pernell."

PK gives him a narrow look, grins before he wraps his lips around Juuse, and god, Juuse isn't greedy.

He's going have to be greedy if he ever wants to fill Pekka's shoes, a breath and a hip snap away from being the top goalie. Juuse snaps his hips against his face, failing to choke PK, because he's never been the biggest and his fingers feel the crease in PK's forehead of concentration when Juuse slips in deeper, breath hot around his balls and god, PK's getting spit on the sauna bench because Juuse isn't letting him swallow--

PK pins Juuse's thighs down, squeezing right where they're quivering the most, and slurps so loud Juuse wants to jerk out of his mouth, fuck, he doesn't know what to do with this much focus--

Pushing PK's head away is a relief, a power surge in his gut that Juuse doesn't realize until he sees a small pout flash across PK's face.

"Good," Pekka says, "A winning goalie knows how to keep the mystery alive."

PK licks his lips, "Is that why you're such a cocktease, Pekks?" Pekka strokes himself, his knuckles brushing against the small of Juuse's back, "Each goalie has their methods, Subby."

PK's close enough for Juuse to feel the rush of heat on his face, and Juuse reaches out for that heat, his fingers sliding against smooth skin that makes PK angle his head up. PK presses his mouth in a smile, "Don't feel like you have to hogtie me."

Juuse laughs, "Can I fuck you, though?"

PK pinches Juuse's nipple, "If you... feel like you're up to it."

Juuse can get over feeling like a blushing virgin any fucking time now, shit. PK's older, smoother than him, but Juuse still wants to spread his ass and make him beg for a few seconds at least.

Pekka watches him so intently as Juuse wriggles his fingers against PK's rim that Juuse feels like he's the one getting opened up. PK sighs, softly against his arm, when Juuse sinks in three fingers, hooking them against his prostate, like it's just a glimmer of what he likes. Juuse grits his teeth, and says, "You'll take what you get," feeling like there should be a tremble in his voice--

PK shoves himself deeper onto Juuse's fingers, and says, "I'm taking it," rolling his dense shoulders like he's expecting him to be soft. slow. gentle. Juuse doesn't want to do the expected. He wants to be greedy.

"Good," Juuse grits out, guiding his dick in. PK's ass is slick around his dick, and he knows he's smaller, less experienced than other guys PK's rode. He still grinds in, circling his hips until PK clenches down, and it's easy enough to lean over PK's back, scrape his teeth across his ear and say, "Instead of taking it, why not give me what I want?"

"Fuck," PK snarls, his hips rolling against the bench. That's enough for Juuse to grin, sharp and mean like he just notched a shutout against a rival team, and to snap his hips enough to knock air out of PK.

Juuse can feel himself rubbing against PK's rim, the heat making the friction even worse to resist, and it just makes sense to clutch PK's shoulders and hold on as he fucks him, selfish and Pekka-like and so, so, good. PK melts, his hips pressed flat against the beach, and he should at least help PK keep from squashing his own cock against the wooden slats of the sauna but he doesn't want to give up how tightly PK's clutching at his cock, his knuckles stark against his dark skin as he holds on and his eyelashes fluttering with each stroke--

His balls tighten up, heavy and too much. It's a bitch for Juuse to slow himself down, to let himself realize PK's rubbing himself off against the unyielding wood, the pain making him clench around Juuse as he pants. Juuse strokes his sweat-slick neck, and says, "You like that, PK? Like being so important you won't have to focus on your needs?"

PK whimpers, shaking his head, like he wants to protest, his hips still moving back and forth between Juuse and the wood. Juuse presses his hand between PK's thick cock and the polished wood, and breathes, "Want me to squeeze you? See how sweet you are?" and PK laughs, his cockhead catching against the space between Juuse's thumb and finger. Juuse scrapes his teeth against PK's shoulder, and holds himself close enough to keep fucking in, and in, ignoring PK panting out how close he is, trying to get his own out.

Juuse slams PK against the bench and his palm, and groans too loud for PK to miss the hot rush of come in his ass, the jerky movements as Juuse keeps trying to make PK come, and PK snarls, "Fuck, god" when Juuse clutches his dick too hard and shoots across the center of the bench--

Pekka licks his lips. PK cranes his face over his shoulder, his tongue darting out like he knows Pekka's getting off on watching Juuse try to replace him before he's ready, and tells Juuse he was good. Considering his size.

Juuse flushes dark as Pekka cackles.

#ficlet #smut #juuse/pk #pekka/juuse

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motionpictures-movingwords-blog · 6 years

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Thoughts on Star Wars: The Last Jedi

(Assume that anything and everything will be spoiled ahead)

Overcoming the Star Wars Cult

At a certain point, the insistence on focusing on lore begins to inhibit the possibility for a film to be made and not leave privileged fans (the expanded universe seems to offer answers to just about any question regarding any character, no matter how trivial) disappointed. I’ve come across many debates concerning the identity of Snoke and the identities of Rey’s parents since the release of The Force Awakens. I imagine those who had placed a great deal of weight into those plot points will have been terribly disappointed, though I am pretty damn satisfied with how the film handled these issues.

1. Snoke not being given much of a backstory or identity

Does it really matter? I don’t believe so and for a couple of reasons. The first is that his key characteristics are made plenty clear enough from what we are shown, therefore eliminating the need for exposition about his past. His similarity to the Emperor from the original trilogy is great enough that I would think many viewers would be able to apply the same legacy and associations to Snoke. I already heard plenty of similar connections made between the new films and the old following The Force Awakens: “Poe is kinda like Han, right?”, “Han is the new Ben Kenobi”, etc. There isn’t a great deal of mental gymnastics required to arrive at a similar conclusion with Snoke being the new version of the Emperor. Both:

Have a strange power over a conflicted member of the dark side who is perceived by the rest of the film’s character

Hold a great deal of power with the force themselves., though they use it sparingly

Appear as holograms at first, only to later appear physically in their throne rooms

Are old and wrinkled

Are eventually killed by their conflicted apprentice

That’s enough evidence for me as a viewer.

One might wonder what his path to power was and how it differed from the Emperor’s, but the truth is that we didn’t know much about how the Emperor had gained power until the prequels were released. That gap in the audience’s knowledge didn’t prevent the original trilogy from being beloved. It was mostly through the release of the prequels that the development of backstories for many characters occurred. It feels a bit spoiled to require in-depth knowledge about each character. Development of his backstory would be a divergence from what this film (or its predecessor) is otherwise about and would therefore be a distraction. One might argue that it would make his death more impactful if we knew more about him. I will admit that this is true, but I would also argue that his death isn’t supposed to impact us. Killing him serves to imbue Ren with absolute power over the Empire and is the result of Ren deciding not to kill Rey – the relationship between Rey and Ren had been focused on far more than any other throughout the film.

2. Rey’s parents (being insignificant) This could easily change since the only “proof” is a conversation between Ben (I’ll probably never pick a name that I feel like sticking with for him) and Rey, but I’d be happy if they stuck with it. It would be refreshing to see a character that doesn’t have some tie to some prior character. Making her the daughter of a significant character would feel a bit excessive and making her the daughter of an insignificant character would be little more than fan service. Keeping her current heritage would also be consistent with the film’s theme that greatness does not need to come from prior greatness (see the humble beginnings of Rose and Finn).

Managing Dialectical Tensions There is a scene in the film in which Rey and Luke collectively describe the force as being the balance between basically everything. While the listing off of each thing she sees and the blatant juxtapositions in this listing are a bit much, I like this description of the force. The film also investigates a lot of tensions and some balances. I like how the idea of the force enters into the film’s story more in this way.

Light Side vs. Dark Side (duh)

Epitome: Kylo Ren vs. Rey/Luke

Legacy-focused heroism vs. Unselfish heroism

Epitome: Poe vs. those who sacrifice themselves

Glamour vs. Concerns about exploitation

Epitome: Canto Bight (Finn’s excitement vs. Rose’s harsh memories of the city)

Class Tensions (maybe racial?)

Epitome: Canto Bight, again

I want to check to see how many different species we see in its casino. In a conversation I had after the movie, it was mentioned that there didn’t seem to be as many new alien races in this film and I wonder if that’s tied to the classes being presented in the film. The Empire is completely human while the resistance features other alien species in addition to the humans.

Paving one’s own path vs. Focusing on what came before

Epitome: Rey’s conflicting needs to work with Luke and help the resistance

Also seen with Luke and the destruction of the Jedi tree and books

Humble/Insignificant Beginnings vs. “Heirs”

Epitome: Rey, Finn, Poe(?) vs. Luke, Leia, Kylo Ren

Despite the split, it seems like both Ben and Rey feel like they have something to prove because of their backgrounds. Rey seems to need to overcome the heritage which she seems a bit ashamed of, meanwhile Ben has to separate from his notable background in order to solidify his place on the dark side and pursue the legacy left by Vader.

It would have been nice if some of these went unspoken, but I’ll take what I can get.

But why that final scene?

The final scene felt a bit heavy-handed while also being unnecessary. On its own the scene could say a few things:

There are other force-sensitive individuals

There are individuals wanting to help/join the resistance

These individuals may be restrained/hidden by their position in society

But we have already seen all of this throughout the movie. The film features three key characters who were restrained/hidden by their place in society, one of them being force-sensitive. Inevitably the next film will involve the resistance trying to gather enough support to overcome the Empire and First Order, so if that’s the purpose of this final scene, it’s superfluous considering what will happen anyways. You don’t need to open that door now. And if that’s not a part of the next film, then the scene doesn’t need to say it, eliminating a reason for it to stay in the film.

Some Other Lingering Thoughts

The direction style resembles The Force Awakens much more than it does the original trilogy. Biggest difference is the camera movement. The original trilogy had pretty limited movement, mostly using pans and tilts when the camera did move (probably modeled after Kurosawa considering his other influences on Lucas in making Star Wars) while the newer films have kept the camera moving in just about every way, but pushes are the most prominent in my mind. Also the pace of editing , though that’s reflective of greater trends in filmmaking. There is no objectively superior method of filmmaking, but I believe the older style allowed more individual images to be cemented into our minds. I can’t think of a shot that is remotely similar to the static, 15-second long shot of Luke looking at the “Binary Sunset” and I also can’t think of a shot that sticks with me like that one. It’s a shot that requires some patience, but not all that much. Not too much for 2017 anyways. Not too much for an audience that will sit through literally anything Star Wars related.

Not a complaint, but I’ve realized that the main two ships basically stay in the same place for the 90% of the film. It kind of cockteases us with the suggestion of a bunch of light speed jumps, then only one happens for the rest of the film between the two main ships.

Leia’s Poppins-esque flight back to the cruiser seemed a bit ridiculous. I’m happy to have her begin to use the force. I’m happy to accept that she isn’t dead after that explosion. Felt bizarre to have her suddenly wake up and use the force in that substantial of a way.

In Summary I was surprised and pleased by Star Wars: The Last Jedi because it was willing to sacrifice pandering to the desires of fandom in order to center on the film’s ongoing conflicts.

#star wars #the last jedi #film #movies #rian johnson #rey #kylo ren #luke skywalker

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filmpenance · 5 years

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Day 7, 2019 - Saturday Night Fever

Saturday Night Fever - 1977 - John Badham

(70s Wednesday)

“Look, tonight is the future, and I am planning for it! There's this shirt I gotta buy, a beautiful shirt.” - Tony Manero

I really liked Saturday Night Fever. I thought it was going to be a movie about disco and a guy who likes to dance, but it’s not.

It’s a movie about a guy who realises he can’t be who he wants to be if he doesn`t change.

In the opening credits we see the Tony Manero (John Travolta) as he walks down the street, strutting with a paint can in one hand, knowing that he looks good. Really good. He’s a god of an Italian-American blue-eyed boy in his Italian-American neighbourhood of Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York.

Tony’s a 19-year-old kid, self-centred enough to dream big and to be a real asshole.

He’s not in school, lives at home with his mom, dad, sister, Nonna. Tony’s also living in the shadow of his brother – a priest who can do no wrong in the eyes of his parents. Talk around the dinner table is tense as his dad has been out of work and Tony’s not above throwing it in his father’s face, especially when Tony thinks he’s being looked down at.

Tony works at a paint store to fund his real loves: looking beautiful, being the alpha among his buddies, and dancing on the weekend at a disco.

And Tony wants to be seen.

And seen he is.

Tony goes to 2001 Odyssey in Bay Ridge every Saturday to pick up women and dance. He has a regular table where he and his friends – Gus, Joey, Bobby and Double J – hold court and decide which females they`re going to grace with their company. Women throw themselves at Tony and he knows he`s desirable, for his looks and for his dancing.

He’s won contests in the past, but Tony wants to be the best.

He can’t be the best with Annette as his partner anymore, no matter how much she cloys and begs. He wants a better partner worthy of his commitment to winning – plus she won’t put out.

One Saturday, Tony spots Stephanie Mangano on the floor and he likes what he sees. She`s hot, but more importantly, he thinks he can win the contest at 2001 with her. Tony resolves to convince her to be his dance partner. It isn`t easy. The moves he puts on other women don`t work with her.

Stephanie is different, she`s 20 and has a job in Manhattan. She`s sophisticated with her A&R job and she gets to talk to famous musicians and drink tea.

Eventually, she takes a shine to him and agrees to be his dance partner.

But the road to the contest does not run smooth. Gus gets beaten up by a Latin gang[i] and Tony`s crew decides they`re going to take revenge by having an all-out brawl at the gang`s hangout and Tony does not emerge unscathed.

And all that goofing around on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge that he and his buddies do all the time, suddenly isn`t funny anymore.

Like Tony says, ``There’s ways of killing yourself without killing yourself.``

As far as the tone of the film the misogyny is right out there in the open as a backdrop for male expressions of dominance and power. For characters like Tony and his buddies, treating women like a Madonna or a Whore[ii] is part and parcel with proving your manliness, indulging gleefully in this male privilege that’s afforded to them in this world.

Like this handy piece of sociological insight that Tony hands to Annette:

Tony: Are you a nice girl or are you a cunt?

Annette: Can't I be both?

Tony Manero: No. It's a decision a girl's gotta make early in life, if she's gonna be a nice girl or a cunt.

The truth is that women are forced into these boxes in Bay Ridge by the men around them. Like say if you’re date-raped by a couple of Tony’s friends in the back of a car saying, “no” while Tony sits in the front of the car. For sure Tony’s going to tell you decided to be a cunt, Annette.

And Stephanie doesn’t fare much better – she gets called a “cocktease”[iii] and when Tony`s feeling a bit stressed after a tough night, he tries to force himself on her. So, he doesn`t get any medals or anything.

Tony knows there’s some bullshit in this place he’s in, and he can start to smell it now. He can smell the shit on him. He`s becoming the man that the men in this neighbourhood eventually become: Hard, unhappy, bitter assholes. Hanging out with Stephanie has given him an opportunity to get some perspective and he knows he was horrible to her.

He goes to find her to make amends and make the change to become what he wants to be – which is something other than a guy who works at a paint store and dances for attention on the weekend in Bay Ridge.

And it`s not a happy ending, it`s a tenuous one.

It`s left up to Tony to become a good man.

This is a great movie that I will absolutely watch again.

Saturday Night Fever Trivia!: https://www.cbc.ca/radio/q/blog/saturday-night-fever-at-40-fascinating-facts-about-the-biggest-disco-movie-of-all-time-1.4443479

Trailer: https://youtu.be/RZTP586-Y9E

Review (Roger Ebert from 1977): https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/saturday-night-fever-1977

Review (Roger Ebert from 1999): https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-saturday-night-fever-1977

NOTES:

[i] Heads-Up: Ethnic and Racial slurs are used in this movie.

[ii] Just in case… https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madonna%E2%80%93whore_complex

[iii] Your Honour, I’d like to enter “cocktease” as exhibit A in my case that rape culture is a thing, and a longstanding tradition in this society. If it please the court, I’d like 1,000 hours of your time to talk about the fucking misogynist bullshit that is the word “cocktease” is.

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