libidinously

“The objet a is … of the subject’s desire

it is not simply an objective property of the beloved—that X which fascinates me in the beloved exists only for me, not for an “objective” view.

the status of that which makes me desire an object is irreducibly linked to my “subjective” perspective

far from simply standing for the excess in the object eluding the subject’s grasp, the objet a is … his or her desire for me

what eludes me in a libidinal object is not some transcendent property, but the inscription into it of my own desire

in desire … the aspiration to fullness is transferred to partial objects

the drive is not an infinite longing for the Thing,” not the getting “fixated onto a partial object—the “drive” is this fixation itself in which resides the “death” dimension of every drive,” Zizek says

Sea Witchery: a Brief Overview

Originally posted by mermaids-luv

At the request of so many followers, I have decided to mock up a little bit of information on Sea Magick and Sea Witchery.  This is just a brief overview to give you some information when wanting to research or begin working with the ocean, storms, the tides, and the many creatures associated with the sea. 

However, I will caution you that the many sea creatures (especially the Merfolk) are not very forgiving creatures, thus they can be pretty tough to handle for beginner, baby witches.  It takes an experience sea hag to get them to cooperate properly, so keep this in mind when studying them.

Once again, this is a brief overview and introduction to my craft and path.  if you have any questions, you can direct them to me via PM or ASK.

Let’s get started!

WHAT IS A SEA WITCH?

Traditionally, sea witches are witches who appear among sailors or others involved in the seafaring trade. Sea witches use witchcraft related to the moon, tides, and the weather, and are believed to have complete control over the seas. Many sailors fell prey to the sea witches curse on ships and were finally delivered to the one who rules all.  In some folklore, sea witches are described as phantoms, ghosts,or in the form of a mermaid. These creatures would then have the power to control the fates of ships and seamen.

As the name implies, sea witches are believed to be able to control many aspects of nature relating to water, most commonly the ocean or sea. However, in more modern times, sea witches can also practice witchcraft on or near any source of water: lakes, rivers, bath tubs, or even simply a bowl of salt water.

In addition to their powers over water, sea witches could often control the wind. A common feature of many tales was a rope tied into three knots, which witches often sold to sailors to aid them on a voyage. Pulling the first knot could yield a gentle, southeasterly wind, while pulling two could generate a strong northerly wind.

Sea witches often improvise on what they have, rather than making purchases from a store or from another person. Common tools include clam, scallop, or oyster shells in place of bowls or cauldrons. Other items include seaweed, fishing net, shells, sea grass, driftwood, pieces of sea glass, and even sand.

Other types of titles they use are: sirens, water witches, storm witches, and sea hags.

DO SEA WITCHES HAVE CERTAIN PERSONALITY TRAITS?

Eh, there isn’t really a specific type of person the sea calls to, however I have met many sea witches that would be described as walking contradictions.  Much like the sea, we can be quite flexible, but also forceful.  Moods tend to fluctuate with the tides and lunar cycle.  Hags both enjoy and love music and poetry; are quite expressive with their emotions, but also don’t easily award entry into their hearts; and can easily win the attention of a crowd, but then seek solitude in the comfort of their own homes.  You would be hard-pressed to find a stagnant sea witch–they’ll always be on the move, searching and discovering.  However, be warned: if you fall in love with one you must understand that a sea hag’s heart belongs to the Sea first and foremost, forever and always, and it calls to them over the span of lifetimes.

WHERE DOES THEIR POWER COME FROM?

For the most part, sea witches draw their power directly from the source: the Ocean.  You’ll find that many of them, even landlocked sea hags, have trinkets from the shore and enjoy baths, storms, and the moonlight.  Of course, there are many different kinds of sea witches all over the world and it really just depends on what seafaring folk culture they subscribe to that determines their power source.

DO SEA WITCHES HAVE SPECIFIC DEITIES THEY WORSHIP?

I am not even lying–there are HUNDREDS upon HUNDREDS of water and sea deities that sea witches call upon for aid and worship.  Probably the most popular would be Poseidon, Neptune, Lir, Gong-Gong, Hapi, Sobek,  Agwé, Aegaeon, Delphin, the Gorgons, Samundra, Pariacaca, Watatsumi, Rongomai, Njord, Nix, and even Davey Jones.

One of the beauties of being a sea witch is that you can call on many ancient and powerful deities to aid you in your craft.  However, I do advise that you make sure that these deities do not come from a culture/religion/belief system that is closed.  You can check out a full list of water/sea/storm deities here.

WHAT ARE SOME TOOLS SEA WITCHES USE?

*TAKES A DEEP BREATH*

Water (salt, fresh, or storm), sand, sea shells and cockles, sea glass, driftwood, ship wood, compasses, maps, mirrors, bowls and chalices, sea weed, sea grass, fish and fish bones, coral, telescopes, sand dollars, pearls, bath salts/bombs/goodies, sea salt, linen, umbrellas and mops, windchimes, ropes, weather vanes, and blood are just some of the few tools we use in our practice.

TELL US ABOUT MERMAIDS!

The Mer or Merfolk are probably one of the more popular topics when it comes to sea witchery.  I get questions all the time like “DO YOU TALK TO MERMAIDS?” or “HOW CAN I GET A MERMAID TO BEFRIEND ME?” or “AREN’T MERMAIDS JUST THE COOLEST?”

The Merfolk are an integral part of sea witch culture, but they aren’t the end all be all when it comes to water spirits/fae/demons/entities.  There are so many to work with and all have interesting backstories.  But let’s talk about the Merfolk for a moment…

Depending to what you school you subscribe to, the Merfolk (also known as mermaids) could be fae, demon, or simply water spirits.  Some believe that  the Merfolk are a species of kithain (also known as changeling or fae.) Ancient and unknowable, the Merfolk pose something of a problem to both fae and human alike. The arrogance of the mer is tempered only by their truly alien natures.  The Merfolk claim that they are the sole legacy of the Tuatha De Danann, the oldest fae on Earth, dreamed long before any human ever set foot on land. When curious people ask how this could be, the merfolk are disconcertingly vague and ambiguous.

As I have stated before on the blog, the Merfolk are certainly an odd lot. The product of a totally alien mindset, the mer are simultaneously deadly, serious and playful, highly ritualized and completely free spirited, repressed and yet libidinous as a drunken prom date. The first thing one will notice about a mer is his incredible arrogance. Of course, as far as they are concerned, they have every right to be arrogant. After all, in their minds, they do rule the world.

Other mythologies tell us that mermaids are the bane of seamen.  These half-fish, half-women lured countless sailors to their deaths. Breathtakingly beautiful humans from their torso-upwards, their lower bodies where those of fish, complete with scales. Men find their songs irresistible and follow them willingly into the sea. Mermaids can be caught and held in exchange for the wishes they grant. The males of the species, Mermen, are regarded as vicious creatures who raised storms for the purpose of sinking men’s ships.  Occasionally they are successfully courted by human men. The offspring of such pairings are often granted great powers in healing by their mothers.

In short, mermaids are extremely beautiful, temperamental, powerful, and dangerous.  They are not to be confused with Sirens, either, and find contempt at the very accusation.  I will probably go into more detail about Merfolk magic in a different post.

WHAT ARE OTHER WATER SPIRITS THAT WE CAN WORK WITH?

Again, like the deities, there are so many different kinds of water spirits and this topic in of itself could be an entire article.  So, here is a brief list and some traits about my favorites…

SIRENS

In Greek mythology, the Sirens (Greek singular: Σειρήν Seirēn; Greek plural: Σειρῆνες Seirēnes) were dangerous creatures, who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music and voices to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island. Roman poets placed them on some small islands called Sirenum scopuli. In some later, rationalized traditions, the literal geography of the “flowery” island of Anthemoessa was somewhere tucked in a cape, with rocky shores and cliffsides.

Sirens were believed to combine women and birds in various ways. In early Greek art, Sirens were represented as birds with large women’s heads, bird feathers and scaly feet. Later, they were represented as female figures with the legs of birds, with or without wings, playing a variety of musical instruments, especially harps.

UNDINES

These are the elemental spirits of water. Their magic centers upon this element, whose course and function they can control. Undines exist within the water itself and cannot be seen with normal human vision. Their homes are typically within the coral caves in lakes or upon the banks of rivers, though smaller undines may choose to live under lily pads. Their appearance is similar to human beings in most cases, with the exception of those living in smaller streams or ponds. Undine clothing is shimmery, reflecting all the colors of water though green is typically the predominant color.Every body of water is home to undines, from ocean waves, to rocky pools, to marshlands, to rivers, to lakes and ponds. Even waterfalls and fountains have an undine living in their midst.

SELKIES

The shapeshifting selkies, who are also known as silkies or roane (Gaelic for seal), occupy the seas surrounding the Orkney and Shetland isles. The exact nature of their undersea world is uncertain, though some believe it to be encased in giant air bubbles. Their true forms are those of faeries or humans, though they take the form of large seals when traveling the through the oceans. In particular: great seals and grey seals are said to take human forms. Older tales tell that selkies are only able to take on human forms on certain nights of the year, such as Midsummer’s Eve or All Hallows.

Occasionally they encounter humankind, sometimes becoming their mates. A human male may take a selkie female as his wife if he finds her seal skin on the beach and hides it from her. In the end she always recovers the skin and returns to the sea, though she may return occasionally to watch over her human family from the safety of the waves.

A human woman may bear the child of a selkie male if she weeps seven tears or seven drops of blood in the nighttime sea. Such relationships are rarely lasting. Seven years hence, the selkie would return for his child, offering the mother a fee for nursing her own babe.

BEANSIDHE/BANSHEE

One of the most dreaded and best known of the Irish faeries is the Banshee, properly named the Beansidhe literally, “woman fairy.” The Irish have many names for her (perhaps they feared invocation of her true name may invoke her presence?) They included: Washer of the Shrouds, Washer at the Banks, Washer at the Ford and the Little Washer of Sorrow. The Scottish called her Cointeach, literally “one who keens.” To the cornish she was Cyhiraeth and to the Welsh either Cyoerraeth or Gwrach y Rhibyn, which translates as “Hag of the Dribble” (to the Welsh she sometimes appear as a male). In Brittany her name is Eur-Cunnere Noe.

The Beansidhe is an extremely beautiful faery, possessing long, flowing hair, red eyes (due to continuous weeping) and light complexions. They typically donn green dresses with gray cloaks. Their wailing foretells of a death nearby, though it never causes such a death (which is why they are wrongly feared.) 

As her other names might suggest, she frequently appears as a washerwoman at the banks of streams. In these cases, she is called the Bean Nighe (pronounced “ben-neeyah”). The clothing she washed takes different forms depending upon the legend. Sometimes it is burial shrouds, others it is the bloodstained clothing of those who will soon die. This particular version of the Bean Sidhe is Scottish in origin and unlike the Irish version, she is extremely ugly, sometimes described as having a single nostril, one large buck tooth, webbed feet and extremely long breasts, which she must throw over her shoulders to prevent them getting in the way of her washing . Her long stringy hair is partially covered with a hood and a white gown or shroud is her main wardrobe. The skin of the Beansidhe is often wet and slimy as if she had just been pulled from a moss covered lake. They are rumored to be the ghosts of women who died in childbirth and will continue to wash until the day they should have died. The keening music of Irish wakes, called caoine, is said to have been derived from the wails of the Beansidhe.

WHAT IS THE MOST IMPORTANT LESSON TO TAKE AWAY FROM THIS?

The Sea giveth and the Sea taketh away.  The sea is both mother and reaper, passionate and cold, serene and turbulent, loving and cruel, generous and vicious.  And if you meet a sea witch, you’ll know this to be true:

Neither chains of steel, nor chains of love, can keep her from the Sea.

Dirty, Pretty Things

Hey guys! I hope that everyone is having a supremely good day today! I’m sorta shy to post this because I’ve never written a sexy-time before, but I gave it a go lol. Basically, Tom and the reader go to the library and Tom gets a little frustrated by the book the reader picks out for him, and then, sexy-time ensues. I hope you like it!

Dirty, Pretty Things

He had lost her within the sea of words that had engulfed them both.

When Tom had first entered the grand library, the sight of so many shelves completely drenched in knowledge blew his eyes wide open. She, on the other hand, had immersed herself, diving in and out of shelves quickly, and coming out with towering stacks of novels. Tom watched, hands in his pockets, as she piled the literature as high as it could go without falling.

Grabbing her readings, he moved them to a secluded corner, where he sat down on the floor to wait for her to come back to him.

As she fluttered about, rushing in between sections and up and down staircases, her skin gave off a soft sheen of champagne that he knew came from her ridiculously expensive highlighter. The heels of her boots tapped anxiously across the floor. Sounding as though they were afraid they’d only be granted a set amount of time to wander through the library. The straps of the dress his girlfriend wore began to slip off her shoulders and she failed to fix them to their proper place again. When she bent down, Tom noticed that her position revealed a more than generous amount of her legs. He bit his lip and tried to ignore how alluringly endearing she looked.

Tom loved to watch her like this. She looked incredibly at home nestled inside the library’s massive selection of books. She wasn’t worried about other people, or how they could be perceiving her. Instead, her only focus was on choosing the best and most interesting novel to read.

After about forty minutes, she finally came back to him, carrying four more books in her hands.

“I picked some out for you to read as well,” she said, nestling decisively underneath his arm.

Due to the spot Tom had secured, she was sat directly next to the left corner of the wall with Tom cuddled into her right side. Tom beamed at her and pressed an open mouthed kiss to her lips. “What did you get for me darling?”

“Well, firstly, I grabbed you the first Harry Potter book because I think that it’s absolute insanity that you haven’t read it yet. Then, I grabbed Horns and The Shining, in case your in the mood for horror, but, if all else fails, maybe you could try Hidden Bodies or Dirty, Pretty Things?” She began to ramble on about why she had selected each novel and then stopped short. “Oh, shit, I should go back and bring you Fight Club, I really think that-.” Tom quickly wrapped an arm around her middle, securing her back down on the floor.

“No, no, I’m excited to read Dirty, Pretty Things. That’s the poetry book you’ve been off about with Kaylee, right? I want to read that one.” Tom watched her pull the thin, pink book out of the stack to hand to him.

She looked shy handing it over to him. As soon as his hands slid over the front cover, she quickly interjected, “you may not like it, but the words are just lovely and they make me,” she stopped short and shuddered.

Tom quirked a brow, “oh yeah? Better get started then.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and rustled her hair.

Tom watched as she leaned forward and bit her lip, trying to decide what she wanted to read first. Eventually, she settled on A Tale For the Time Being and curled up against his chest.

Tom’s eyes skimmed over poem after poem, and he began to understand why she spoke so much about it, just not directly to him. The book was written about love, and carnal attraction and she was forever timorous.

The poetry in Dirty, Pretty Things was beginning to get to him, especially when he thought about her reading it. Michael Faudet’s words were dulcet and enticing, and Tom imagined whispering them softly into her ear, as he slipped his hands up her skirt.

Tom’s mind briefly wandered to her getting off on the words within the book and had to stop for a few seconds to recompose himself. He glanced down at her. The words on the page of her book seemed to leap and dance off the page, mocking him for being of more interest to her than he was. Shaking his head, he tried not to look at the uncovered, sweet smelling, perfumed, skin of her chest. Going back to his own book, he attempted to allow the book’s poetry to command his full attention once again.

The first poem Tom encountered as he flipped the page nearly killed him. He stopped breathing and read over the words three more times before letting out a shaker gasp.

The only words on the page were, “Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read.”

Tom looked from the poem to her, then again and again before he felt his jeans getting even tighter than they were before. This had to be a sign. Shit, they were in a library, surrounded by books, all alone in a dimly lit corner of the library. Not to mention, books and literature were her favorite things in the word. She had told him a while ago that the best compliment she’d ever received had been from slew of teachers who had all insisted that she had the best taste in books they’d seen in a long time. Michael Faudet’s words were taunting him.

“Baby,” he started, gently tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’m bored.”

She frowned, “do you not like the book because I can go and grab you another, or maybe-,” Tom cut her short by sliding a soft hand across her throats to sweep her hair off her shoulder.

“Let’s trade. You can read Dirty, Pretty Things out loud to me. I’m sleepy and I wanna listen to you read the poems.” Tom gently guided his book into her palms.

She flushed red and stuttered for a minute. “Tom, I can’t.

“Why not?” He countered.

“You’ve read it,” She muttered, looking away from him. “The words are libidinous.”

Tom brought her eyes back to his and licked his lips before he spoke. “I wanna hear you read them darling.” He moved to kiss the spot just below her lips. Tom dared lower and lower, tangling his hands in her hair as he went. When he reached her collarbones, she finally snapped.

Letting out an airy sigh, she gasped out, “fine Tom.”

He smirked and placed a final kill on the base of her throat and corrected his posture so that he was sitting with his arms protectively circling her frame.

She moved to flip to the next page when Tom interrupted her. “Do you mind reading from the beginning? I wanna hear it all in your voice.”

Narrowing her eyes, she flipped back to the first page and began to read. As she read through the first few poems, Tom’s hands began to totter.

First, he slipped them up and down her arms, feigning an effort to keep her warm. Then, he began to give her small kisses on the forehead, cheek, neck and hand. She looked at him, slightly confused as to why he’d ask her to read out loud if he wasn’t going to pay attention.

Nevertheless, she kept reading.

As she flipped the page, her breathing was cut short. Tom knew exactly which poem she’d stumbled across. “Sweetheart, do you want to play a game?” Tom asked her, his voice rough and low in her ear.

She blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed cherry red as she managed to stutter out a few syllables.

“How about I tell you the rules first?” He paused briefly, and then began to talk. “The book you’ve chosen for me has actually proven itself to be quite the naughty thing and I think that you gave it to me on purpose. Since you like to play so many little games instead of just telling me directly what you want, I think that maybe I’ll give games a go too.” Tom stopped to look at her again. Her pupils had consumed the typical color of her eyes and her hands were slightly shaking. Taking them within his own, he kissed the backs of both of her hands.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d very much like to reenact that poem. You are the book that I’ve been dying to read.”

Her eyes shut and she bit her lip to contain the moan threatening to slip past.

“Here’s the catch though, I still want you to read to me. If you stop reading out loud, I’ll stop what I’m doing and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” Tom peppered her neck with open mouthed kisses.

She nodded her head, eyes still shut tight.

“No, darling, I need verbal consent, just to be sure.” Tom continued his assault on her neck.

Her eyes finally snapped open and she rolled her head around to look directly into Tom’s eyes. “Please.” She whispered.

With that, Tom smirked and lifted the hem of her dress and slipped his hand further up her thighs.

Her voice shook, “the kind of love letter I write are the ones you read in bed, stretched out beneath the sheets with one hand between your legs.”

Tom pressed his mouth to her and she convulsed against his lips, gasping out the words to the next line.


Each time there is writing. No writing opens a passage without this bodily violence. How otherwise does one explain the charge–others would say the investment–the libidinal, even narcissistic charge that everyone brings to his own texts? It is my body, this is my body. Every poem says, “This is my body,” and the rest: drink it, eat it, keep it in memory of me. There is a Last Supper in every poem, which says: “This is my body, here and now.” And you know what comes next: passions, crucifixions, executions. Others would also say resurrections.
—  Jacques Derrida, “Rams: Uninterrupted Dialogue–Between Two Infinities, the Poem,” Sovereignties in Question: The Poetics of Paul Celan

Originally posted by fiddlesticksimagines

The first time Warren had told you his middle name was when you were helping him fill out paperwork, and you abruptly realized that you didn’t know your boyfriend’s middle name. When you asked, his face fell, and he tried to take the paper from you, insisting that he would just fill it out himself. You persisted, and only after swearing up and down that you would never tell anyone, he told you.

Kenneth?

Warren immediately turned scarlet, but attempted to hide his embarrassment behind a scoff, returning his attention to the papers in front of him. You could tell from his reaction that it was something he really disliked, so you never brought it up again.

Until he came home from a mission injured.

You had received a telepathic message from Professor Xavier, giving you a heads up that Warren had been injured due to thoughtlessness on one of their missions. He had apparently not been paying attention, and had taken a somewhat serious hit. You were assured that he would be perfectly fine, but that didn’t ease your concern and annoyance.

By the time Warren walked through the doors of the mansion, shirtless with a large bandage on his side (yet he still wore his leather jacket, which you were certain he had been adamant about having), you were somewhere between furious and immensely worried. When you saw that he wore a smile, indicating that he was perfectly fine, the anger was the emotion that took over.

WARREN KENNETH WORTHINGTON III!

Warren turned white as a ghost, staring at you with an expression of utter fear. Peter and Scott, on the other hand, looked as if they had just seen the most glorious sight in all of creation.

Kenneth?!” they hollered in unison, pure delight filling their voices. Warren didn’t even look at them, his eyes locked on you.

“I would highly suggest we all evade this lovers’ quarrel,” Charles declared, then nudged Peter and Scott, before leaving with the rest of the group in tow.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you inquired, seething with rage as you stormed over to Warren, who still looked somewhat terrified.

“I’m sorry, baby girl, I wasn’t thinking –”

“Exactly! You could have died, Warren! You could have died and never came back to me!” you yelled, and your voice betrayed you as it cracked at the end of your statement. Warren’s fear faded to a frown, and just as you were opening your mouth to continue, he pulled you into a hug.

“I’m sorry that I was reckless. You make me promise to be safe before every mission, and I broke that promise. I scared and upset you, and I’m so sorry. It’ll never happen again, baby. I swear.”

The anger almost immediately subsided, and you exhaled slowly before wrapping your arms around his torso, mindful of the bandage. Warren kissed the top of your head, then tipped your chin up to look at him and pressed a deep kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmured after breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you, too, you ass.”

Warren smiled before kissing you once more, then draped an arm over your shoulders, leading you to your room.

“So, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Warren asked, and the suggestiveness in his voice was very plain. You didn’t even have to look up at him to know that he was smirking.

“I should probably be the one making something up to you.”

“Why?”

“Because now Peter and Scott know that your middle name is Kenneth.”

Warren groaned loudly, running a hand through his blond curls.

“Yeah, you definitely need to do some repenting,” Warren agreed, although the libidinous tone was still evident in his voice. You grinned up at him, shooting him a playful wink.

“That can most certainly be arranged.”


@emmcfrxst even though she already persuaded me to send it to her @shayara @raypclmer @jxbilationlee @frostypalmer @phoenixejean @xxlil-miss-tricksterxx

‘Use me’: a statement of vertiginous simplicity, it is not mystical, but materialist. Let me be your surface and your tissues, you may be my orifices and my palms and my membranes, we could lose ourselves, leave the power and the squalid justification of the dialectic of redemption, we will be dead.
—  Jean-Francois Lyotard. Libidinal Economy.
“It’s Kinda Distracting...” (Joji)

Anon Request: I really would like to read a post about the reader trying to get Joji to stop editing for a bit and to pay attention to her, like he’s trying to focus but he eventually gives in? Like maybe reader just starts to give him the succ and he can’t help it? I just love this blog it’s chill if you have other stuff to do too dude


I sat in bed, patiently waiting for Joji to finish whatever he was doing on the computer and climb in bed next to me. I had been libidinous for the past week and a half, craving his touch and wanting his hands all over me. At first, I left him alone, wanting him to finish whatever project he had himself set on. But as time went on, the less he came to bed. I would hear the water of the shower on, signaling he was occupying the bathroom, but he would come out newly dressed in some sleepwear and then go back to his “man cave” to proceed with what he was doing earlier. I laid there on my back, trying to make myself engaged in some other activity other than just staring blankly at nothing. The TV bored me and made me lethargic, my eyes drooping slowly. I sat up rapidly, slapping myself out of it, I went over to Joji’s little “man cave”, opening the door, I saw him behind his desk on his laptop in nothing but his plaid, flannel pajama pants. I leaned on the doorframe using my shoulder as I crossed my arms over my chest. I bit my lip as I watched him: his damp hair slightly getting in his view as his eyes concentrated on the screen, his bare torso exposed as he sat there unbothered.

“Hey.” I let out softly letting my fingers dance across the wooden frame of the door, “You coming to bed?”

“Uh…what time is it?” he asked without looking up, the mouse clicking louder than usual.

“Currently, it is twelve o’ three a.m.” I answered looking at the nearby clock.

Fearlessly, I walked into the room hoping I’d catch his eye, but I didn’t succeed. I sat on the edge of his desk and he sighed, telling me he wasn’t finished with what he was working on. With my bare legs, and being in nothing but my underwear, he wasn’t paying attention. Joji loved it when I showed off this much skin and would refuse to keep his hands off of my body. He was not even close to finishing up his work, but that didn’t mean he had to put me off the way he was. I brought myself back onto my feet and walked behind the chair he was seated on, I placed my hands-on his shoulders and massaged them lightly. Leaning into him a little slightly, I placed a soft kiss on the skin of his neck, earning an annoyed groan from him.

“Baby, not right now, okay? I’m not done editing yet. And after I’m done with this I need to edit a video I’m uploading soon.” he whined as he shrugged me off, “We can continue this tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

“You promised me yesterday…” I muttered.

Although it dawned on me that I should leave him alone so he can edit at his own pace without feeling rushed, I couldn’t help but grow more impatient as the minutes, hours, seconds, went by. I sighed and brought myself to my knees, not wanting to let any more time to go to waste. I made sure to make quick movements before I changed my mind completely. Joji was always one to cherish his time alone when it came to editing, and I was the one to always respect that, but he’s never edited this long before. Crawling my way around his desk in order to enter through the open front part of it, I was pretty bothered by the fact he hadn’t noticed me duck down onto my hands and knees or noticed me as I crawled away. My chin came in contact with his knee lightly as I placed it on there, hoping he’d get the gist of what my actions were trying to show him. Joji seemed to not have any reaction to what I was doing so I amped up my motions: I let my hand trail up his clothed leg, the loose fabric so thin I could manage to feel his leg hairs through his pants. My hand stopped at his crotch, to which he then sat up straighter with a jolt, “Whoa, hey…what are you doing under there?” he asked me confused.

“I just wanna touch you a little bit…” I admitted as I continued to caress his groin area.

“Babe, come on out from under there. It’s kinda distracting…I told you I’m busy editing.” he sighed in his ‘I told you already not to do that’ tone.

“Keep editing…I promise you wont get too distracted.” I explained as I somehow found my hand creeping it’s way into his pants.

Joji agreed to letting me touch him as he worked. There were a few times, within the couple of minutes that I sat there jerking him off, I felt him suppress moans and grunts. As he grew harder I decided to let my mouth do the rest of the work. I took his length from out of his boxers and his pants, the cold air making him feel relieved due to the temperature rising in his pants. The clicks of his mouse continued as I begin licking up his shaft slowly, then taking him in my mouth as I swirled my tongue along his tip. Joji gasped then cleared his throat, as if he didn’t want me to know how good it made him feel because he was too busy focusing on his bright screen. Taking more of him in my mouth was always challenging since he was big in size but it was well worth it if it meant getting a reaction out of him. He groaned in a rough manner, his clenched fists now lying beside him. With one hand on his shaft, I made swift movements with my wrist skillfully as I carried on sucking. Sooner than expected, his hands found their way into my hair, entangling in the nest on my head as he tried putting my hair in a ponytail. It wasn’t long enough until his moans became irregular and more notable as they got louder. He sucked in a breath as I took his cock out of my mouth and looked up at him. His eyes were dark as he bit his lip, motioning me to keep going. I knew he was close and instead of me making a witty comment, I went back to sucking him off. Using my tongue to massage his length as I bobbed my head up and down with his help, he cussed in Japanese. It turned me on when he did that and even if this was just me sucking him off and not him fucking me after, I didn’t care…he was a sight to see what he was in pleasure.

“Y/N…fuck.” he breathed.

Placing my hands on either side of his thighs, I took more of him into my mouth, earning moans from him, I took it as my sign of approval.

“Y/N..” he moaned with his hand entangled in my hair as the other was clenching the arm of the chair, “Fuck, stop…I- I’m gonna cum.”

The thing I loved most about sucking Joji off was that he would always try and cut it short for fear that he might cum too quickly but would give in anyway if it meant that at the end of the day it would be me getting the job done. His grip on my hair got tighter and he cussed once more in his foreign language before whispering, “Fuck, just like that, baby.”

Doing as I was told, he moaned, his cock twitching in my mouth as his cum doused the back of my throat. Letting out a chain of cuss words from his lips, he lightly panted as I persisted to suck him off. Joji let out a grunt and removed my lips from his cock. I studied him attentively as he got up from his chair and held out his hand to me. Thinking he was going to help me up from my spot under his desk, I was in for a wild ride when he instead yanked me up on my feet and turned me around so that my butt was facing him and my hips were pressed against his desk. It was as though he’d finally snapped out of his trance and acknowledged me, as he should.

“Thought you didn’t wanna get distracted?” I provoked, turning my head to look at him.

Joji was strenuously removing my underwear from under the oversized shirt but soon stopped once it fell to my ankles. He chuckled to himself, “Thought this was what you wanted?” he told me in a taunting manner as he slipped a finger inside me.

I gasped and gripped the desk so hard it made my knuckles turn white. Joji went on and added another finger, he pumped them inside me vigorously. Hanging my head low as my moans grew louder, he suddenly stopped. About a few seconds passed by with no action or motion from him so I turned around to see what it was he was doing and I witnessed him sucking his fingers before he grasped his cock and pushed himself inside me at a fast pace. I grabbed one of his hands that was placed on my waist and tightened my clutch on it as he filled me with every inch of him, clouding my mind with euphoria. Joji grunted in an animalistic manner when he began thrusting faster and rougher, taking my leg and propping it up on the desk made it more so he had more access and could go deeper than he already was. I removed my hand from his and slammed it flat back on the desk, letting my hands and arms glide forward so that the upper part of my body was occupying the desk. Joji’s fingers worked my clit earning a loud moan from me.

“Joji..” I warned him with my eyes shut tightly as I focused on how sensual he was making me feel.

Alternatively, he took this as his signal to get rougher and faster, which is exactly what he did. I brought my self back up on my hands and Joji began ramming me with his thick cock, turning me into a spastic moaning disaster. My moans became consistent and as did his. Gripping his hands tightly, I came all over him as he continued thrusting distortedly, letting me know he was going to cum, so I turned around and took his length into my mouth once more as I planted my my knees on the floor. Joji’s hands went straight for my hair as I sucked him off, he moaned in a raspy deep tone. Once he came, I swallowed willingly and got up, observing his panting figure as he plopped himself into his swivel chair, tucking his dick away. He was sweaty and so was I. Picking my underwear up with his fingers, he smiled and threw them at me, “You gonna go back to editing?” I asked with my eyebrow raised as I began putting my underwear on.

“I’m not done with you yet…that was round one, I’m taking a small break. So there’s no use in putting those back on.” he laughed referring to my lace underwear as they were hooked with my fingertips.

I slid them down and went to sit on his lap, “Let’s move this somewhere more comfortable.” he winked at me.

Distracting him was my best idea yet, and even Joji agreed.

EXO react to their gf wanting to try anal sex

*dramatic anime nosebleed* o////o So, I’ll just be writing their reaction to their girlfriend wanting to try it, not actually writing the sex. If you want me to go in depth on the sex, please do send me that request. 

*As always, gifs do not belong to me. Credit where it’s due. 

******SLIGHT NSFW WARNING. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION********

Xiumin: Something tells me he would love this, more than he displays it. I still believe Minseok to be a giving partner rather than a demanding one, so anything his girlfriend wants, he’ll be attentive and diligent in fulfilling even her most libidinous desires and fantasies. His eyes would light up briefly as he approaches her with a look of satisfaction. “Mmm, my jagi…you always surprise me.” 

Originally posted by icallhimbangjamesbang

Luhan: If he agrees, it would be reluctantly. Luhan has a very traditional approach with sex, so this request would definitely catch him off guard. “Y-you want what?” he would inquire in disbelief, rubbing the back of his neck while chuckling softly, lucidly flustered at his girlfriend’s request. “I mean if you really want it..” Luhan would acquiesce softly, hands coming to rest upon her hips. 

Originally posted by ludork

Kris: Of all the members, I feel like Kris would love this the most, agreeing without a trace of vacillation. His eyes would darken with a carnal sensuality at his girlfriend’s request. “That…can be arranged,” he would mutter huskily in concurrence. This is the perfect means of sex to exert Kris’s feral dominance. Casting aside all hesitation, he would be atop of her in no time, growling lowly into her ear as his hand traverse below her waist: “you’re in for it now baobei.” 

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Suho: Omg, he would be so perplexed at this; Suho’s reaction would be congruous to Luhan’s. His face would flush over with a soft roseate hue upon hearing his girlfriend’s request. Like Luhan, Suho is rather vanilla, so this would be a strangely, pleasant astonishment. “Jagi! You never told me about this before..” Over his vanilla disposition, Suho is willing to please his girlfriend. Though he may not feel the idea initially, he’ll warm up to it eventually. This would be the perfect type of sex to release Joonmyun’s ravenous libido. 

Originally posted by junmyeonstuff

Lay: Though Yixing is the most vanilla member to me, he has a vast avidity. He would attempt to conceal his bashful expression when his girlfriend approaches him about her desire. However, Yixing’s only discontent with the idea would be the possibility of hurting her. “Baobei…wouldn’t that hurt you?” He would take it upon himself to properly ensure that his girlfriend will not feel any discomfort. 

Originally posted by xingblingmi

Baekhyun: He’ll chuckle with a mixture of bashfulness and amusement upon hearing his girlfriend’s request. He’ll quickly see the allure to his girlfriend’s desire however. Baekhyun would lower his gaze wantonly, smirking widely as he runs a hand towards her butt. “Babe that’s so…naughty~” Giving her butt a light, playful squeeze, Baek would lead her to the nearest couch, fervidly running his hand all over her most erogenous areas. “You should ask for this more often~” 

Originally posted by littlebyuns

Chen: Next to Kris, Jongdae would love this A LOT. No second thoughts, no reluctance would be traced towards Jongdae the second his girlfriend brings this up to him. A wry smirk would manifest upon his features as he chuckles lowly, eyebrows raised. “Mm, that’s hot babe. Never thought you’d ask.” Promptly, he would sneakily lay a well rounded spank to his girlfriend’s ass before encircling her within a back hug. “I’m really happy you asked~”

Originally posted by sooranghaes

Chanyeol: “O-of course! Y-you want to do what?” He’s rendered evidently dumbfounded at his girlfriend’s words. Chanyeol is almost certain that she’s playing some sort of practical prank on him that entails getting a laughable reaction out of him. He’s having dreaded flashbacks to when he ended up pranking her and piecing the clues together that this is her attempt at getting back at him. Once he catches his girlfriend’s genuine drift, he’d still be stuttering for a response. “Y-you’re serious? You’re serious! Wow jagi! You’re incredible!” 

Originally posted by sugutie

D.O: He’d attempt to conceal himself coughing so suddenly at his girlfriend’s words. “You’re into this? Since when?” he’s genuinely caught off guard by this however contemplative over her words. Though this isn’t a personal kink for Kyungsoo, I think he’d still be relatively enticed (as I’ve mentioned he has a lustful side along with his romantic side) Something tells me Kyungsoo would love this mostly due to the dominating role he’d be given. 

Originally posted by sehuntiful

Tao: He’d giggle uncontrollably upon registering his girlfriend’s words, beginning to prod at her cheeks playfully. “Well that’s different baobei~ What have you been watching to come up with that?!” Tao would be most comical in this instance with his girlfriend. But the mood will shift quickly as his gaze darkens and his hands begin to wander his girlfriend’s body cheekily. “So….should we arrange something?” 

Originally posted by shinylightblue

Kai: Surprisingly, Jongin would be the most bashful of all the members in this scenario. His face would flush over soft roseate hues at his girlfriend’s request, while he places a hand at the back of his neck, coughing awkwardly into a fist. “W-what gave you that idea?” Genuinely inquisitive as to her reasoning, he would listen to her pensively with a widened smirk to accompany his expression. “It’s not a bad idea jagi,” he’d murmur softly before running a hand down her face. 

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

Sehun: He’d do well in masking the initial befuddlement when asked about the matter. Allowing the thought to register properly with Sehun, he would slowly adjust to the idea; becoming gradually enticed by his girlfriend’s request. “Well, we both wanted to try new things,” he would accede while eyeing her fervidly, becoming increasingly anxious to start with her.  

Originally posted by fy-sexo-exo


Requests will be open soon my loves. Thank you for your patience and understanding… <3

~Momo❀

I wish I was as confident all the time as I am when a mediocre white boy pays attention to me

You can take the Mexican out of Mexico, but you can’t take the deep seated libidinal desire for whiteness out of the Mexican

In honor of the birthday boy <3 

❥NSFW CONTENT: READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!!


‘Call me baby,’ outside. Where all gazes are locked upon you, as he proudly traipses town with you around his arms, encircled affectionately. Little do these spectators know of the wicked love games you’ll both become participants in. It’s nearly comical how you’ve both got the whole town misled into thinking of you both as chaste and innocent. You’re especially enraptured by him when he returns to you from another mundane gig at the local bar. Like any other rockstar, he’ll stagger towards you with a wry smirk, messy blonde hair with slight beads of sweat, and subtle glitter stains across his face and leather jacket, as indication of the intense partying that must have occurred during this show. 

Somehow, he becomes charming by tenfold in this state of seductive disarray. You’ll breathe aloud his pet name ‘baby’ before casting aside all hesitation to engulf within a ravenous kiss. A broiling heat manifests below your naval as his hand ghosts below your hips, resting firmly upon your ass. Permitting one cheek a forceful squeeze, he abruptly ends the kiss before ushering you upon a nearby sofa. A dangerously flirtatious smirk materializes upon his features as he approaches you lustfully. “What’s the word kitten?” The word ‘baby’ passes your lips, while your heart races at an increased speed, knowing what awaits you next. 

Always remember his golden rule: always call him baby. Otherwise, you can expect one of his sharp, yet tantalizing spanks as ‘punishment.’ He’s already managed to disrobe and bind your hands together, leaving your arms immobile, allowing him to have his way with your body. You continuously chant the word ‘baby’ in a haze of avidity, while he continues to work on you, slicking your body with lukewarm oils. You squirm in a euphoric haze as his mouth makes contact with your core, tongue smoothing over your dewy folds. “Hmm~ Tastes so good babe.” Squarely placing a kiss to your libidinous clit, he chuckles softly before embedding two pretty digits within your core, thrusting at a moderate pace. Your ecstasy increases with each lavish suck he’ll permit to your nub as you mewl aloud much to his satisfaction. “What’s the word doll?” still enraptured by the dexterous movements of his digits, firmly thrusting within your erogenous core, you failed to say his most coveted word. 

With growing eagerness, he arises from between your thighs, much to your consternation. Watching through opaque eyes as he rises, commencing to unbuckle the leather belt upon his torn jeans, he briefly flicks a hand in a ‘come hither’ motion signaling for you to drop to your knees. With hands still tightly bound, you lick your lips in anticipation as you sink to the level of his waist, watching closely as he pulls you closer to him, proceeding to guide his hardened length to your lips. “Fuck kitten, look up at me while you’re sucking me off. Your mouth is fucking perfect,” he’ll growl lowly, while you bob your head along his member, batting your eyes with emphasis. While softly sucking against his length, you’ll moan aloud his favorite word in a muffled tone, much to his enjoyment. Strings of obscenities spill from him as you continue to groan the word into his member, licking a long stripe from the base to the tip. He’ll roughly remove your head from his waist, eyeing you with unwavering dominance as he softly chuckles huskily. “Forget ‘baby.’ You can call me monster.”


Happy birthday to my personal bias list wrecker Baby Baek. <3 

❥ Share with any Baekhyun stans!

~Momo❀

* ( descriptive writing. )

Some words to use when writing things:

  • winking
  • clenching
  • pulsing
  • fluttering
  • contracting
  • twitching
  • sucking
  • quivering
  • pulsating
  • throbbing
  • beating
  • thumping
  • thudding
  • pounding
  • humming
  • palpitate
  • vibrate
  • grinding
  • crushing
  • hammering
  • lashing
  • knocking
  • driving
  • thrusting
  • pushing
  • force
  • injecting
  • filling
  • dilate
  • stretching
  • lingering
  • expanding
  • bouncing
  • reaming
  • elongate
  • enlarge
  • unfolding
  • yielding
  • sternly
  • firmly
  • tightly
  • harshly
  • thoroughly
  • consistently
  • precision
  • accuracy
  • carefully
  • demanding
  • strictly
  • restriction
  • meticulously
  • scrupulously
  • rigorously
  • rim
  • edge
  • lip
  • circle
  • band
  • encircling
  • enclosing
  • surrounding
  • piercing
  • curl
  • lock
  • twist
  • coil
  • spiral
  • whorl
  • dip
  • wet
  • soak
  • madly
  • wildly
  • noisily
  • rowdily
  • rambunctiously
  • decadent
  • degenerate
  • immoral
  • indulgent
  • accept
  • take
  • invite
  • nook
  • indentation
  • niche
  • depression
  • indent
  • depress
  • delay
  • tossing
  • writhing
  • flailing
  • squirming
  • rolling
  • wriggling
  • wiggling
  • thrashing
  • struggling
  • grappling
  • striving
  • straining

Appetite -

craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal


Arouse -

agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up


Assault -

attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound

Beautiful -

admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting

Brutal -

atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild

Burly –

able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed

Carnal -

animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean

Dangerous -

alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous

Dark -

atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched

Delicious -

enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty

Ecstasy -

delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled

Ecstatic -

delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild

Erotic -

amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing

Gasp -

catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded

Heated -

ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous

Hunger -

appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst

Hungry -

avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting

Intense -

forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous

Liquid -

damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping

Lithe -

agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry

Moan -

beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl

Moving -

(exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling

Need -

compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen

Pain -

ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart

Painful -

aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded

Perverted -

aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile

Pleasurable -

charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent

Pleasure -

bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven

Rapacious-

avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering

Rapture -

bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy

Rigid -

adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering

Sudden -

abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning

Thrust -

(forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel

(push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick

Thunder-struck -

amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback

Torment -

agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe

Touch -

(physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap

(mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize

Wet -

bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water

Wicked -

abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched

Writhe -

agonize, bend, jerk, recoil, lurch, plunge, slither, squirm, struggle, suffer, thrash, thresh, twist, wiggle, wriggle, angle, arc, bow, buck, coil, contort, convulse, curl, curve, fidget, fight, flex, go into spasm, grind, heave, jiggle, jolt, kick, rear, reel, ripple, resist, roll, lash, lash out, screw up, shake, shift, slide, spasm, stir, strain, stretch, surge, swell, swivel, thrust, turn violently, tussle, twitch, undulate, warp, worm, wrench, wrestle, yank

5/3/17: FIRE WALK WITH ME vs PHENOMENA - The Comparative Analysis No One Asked For!

TWIN PEAKS: FIRE WALK WITH ME (1992) and PHENOMENA (1985) might not occur to most people as a pair, but they have two obvious things in common: They are products of two of the world’s best loved genre filmmakers, and they were thought to represent the nadir of each director’s career at the time of release. Incidentally, they are also both predicated on a sort of Alice through the looking glass format, and as such, they may have more to offer as a duet than a cursory consideration would suggest. 

At the time of its release, after David Lynch’s groundbreaking television series was cancelled, the former suffered a lot from the preciousness with which audiences regarded Twin Peaks. A show fan (as opposed to a Lynch fan) might accept cutesy kookiness but not psychoanalytic abstraction; they might welcome a few good scares, but not being subject to constant terror and misery; and importantly, they might enjoy the idea of a cheerleader with a dark side, but sicken when the facts of Laura Palmer’s life are laid bare unromantically in all their R-rated glory.Topping all that off with the absence of most of the show’s beloved characters and/or actor (many of who expressed bitterness over Lynch more or less abandoning the program in its oft-maligned second season), it is unsurprising that the film met with boos, walkouts and scathing reviews upon release.

After a fashion, FIRE WALK WITH ME enjoyed a favorable reappraisal by its public, but no such forgiveness would come for Dario Argento’s PHENOMENA. This grisly fairy tale in which Jennifer Connelly uses her psychic connection with insects, and the aid of Donald Pleasance’s wayward helper monkey, to solve a series of murders, was understandably considered by many to be the beginning of the end of Argento’s already outrageous career. Up to that point, fans delighted in the logistical acrobatics of manic detective stories like PROFONDO ROSSO, and happily accepted the relatively anemic narrative of a fever dream like SUSPIRIA in light of its astonishing aesthetic powers. (Wiser sorts might even call this lack of “sense” a virtue) However, even these adventurous viewers had a hard time with PHENOMENA’s delirious dialog, its hysterical score that blends opera with heavy metal and surf rock, and its entirely preposterous premise. I have yet to come across a piece of critical writing that values this film as more than a collection of extreme examples of Argento’s defining characteristics as an artist. With that said, I have preemptively congratulated myself for attempting to say something about it as a story.

Both FWWM and PHENEMONA tell a little girl lost tale, in which the girls are specifically lost in a world of intimate violence and betrayal, with supernatural overtones. The mountain town of Twin Peaks, where prom queen Laura Palmer will live and die, is bathed in a searing white light by day as if to parody the pretended purity and simplicity of its people. A similarly blinding daylight bleaches the eerie environs of the Swiss Alps where a movie star has sent his beautiful daughter, Jennifer Corvino, to a fancy boarding school. By night, a cursed darkness seeps out of the pines surrounding both settings, laying cover for libidinous young men and bloodthirsty murderers. Our schoolgirl heroines have to battle both the mundane evils of ignorant adults and predatory peers, and real monsters disguised as loving fathers, upstanding school teachers, and even innocent children.

Although FIRE WALK WITH ME is a prequel to Twin Peaks, Laura Palmer is already in deep trouble at the beginning of the movie. Because she’s the most popular girl in the world, no one in a position to help thinks to wonder about her erratic behavior, nocturnal flights from her home, and often transparent misery. Laura’s fate is therefore determined by the remaining men in her life–her boyfriend Bobby, who is more a rabid dog than a person; her secret boyfriend James, who doesn’t have the humility to imagine that anything could be more powerful or important than his shallow teenage love for Laura; and Jacques, the owner of a bar on the wild Canadian border, who feeds Laura’s cocaine addiction and her compulsion to endanger and degrade herself. As in real life, Laura’s relationships are patterned after her relationship with her father, who in this case is essentially the devil.

Jennifer Corvino is also haunted by the specter of her father, which has a huge impact on her life, even though he never materializes. When she arrives at the elite Richard Wagner Academy for Girls, she is burdened with the stigma of having a rich, famous, and desirable daddy. Her social life basically has two facets, which her new roommate Sophie demonstrates efficiently: Jennifer is either subject to other people’s sexual obsession with her father, or subject to their sadism and jealousy. When Jennifer reveals that she knows movie star Paul Corvino, Sophie mindlessly assails her with a lustful rant about his body, and an invasive question about whether she has fucked him yet. Jennifer patiently explains that Paul Corvino is her father, but it’s hard to blame Sophie for her reaction, since Jennifer has brought armloads of pinups of her dad to decorate their dorm. The oedipal vibe of this scene (and the movie in general) is underlined by a weird comic touch in which Jennifer, hungry from her long journey, eats a jar of baby food left behind by Sophie’s family. Throughout the film, Jennifer will pine for the father who has abandoned her for a foreign film shoot, and have to fight alone against even less caring adults.

Of course, where Jennifer’s character is colored by this subtle form of romance with her father, Laura’s life is entirely ruined by the very real affair that her father carries on with her during the twilight fugue states shared by both of them. Her awareness of this ongoing trauma bubbles up to her consciousness in the form of hallucinatory visions of a demonic older man called Bob, who has been raping her since childhood. Laura sees him lurking behind her bedroom furniture, blames him for pages torn out of her secret diary, and believes he that he intends to fully possess her and thereby incarnate himself as her. Laura has only one real friend in the world, who she can’t possible tell about Bob: Donna Hayward (played here by Moira Kelly rather than Lara Flynn Boyle, to pretty much universal dismay). Donna loves Laura with the kind of unconditional love that most often occurs when a person doesn’t really know anything about their loved one. Donna’s innocence is so comically total that Laura must shield her not only from the story of Bob, but from her crippling drug addiction and frightening forays into prostitution. Inevitably, Donna martyrs herself on the cross of their friendship, attempting to prove her devotion by borrowing some of Laura’s sluttier clothes, getting wasted and almost screwing a young tough in the middle of Jacque’s bar. The harrowing sequence concludes with Laura, who has been perfectly evil to Donna all night in an attempt to ward her off, giving vent to a shattering scream at the sight of her friend being molested. Still, she is unable to experience or express actual love, screeching at her best friend, “DON’T YOU EVER WEAR MY STUFF!” 

Donna’s love for Laura is as deep as her maturity allows, as FIRE WALK WITH ME and Twin Peaks frequently touch on the way in which teenage relationships are, paradoxically, exactly as passionate as they are shallow. PHENOMENA takes this a step farther, describing the corrosive, sadistic social environment that tends to sprout up between girls. After Jennifer tells the heartbreaking story of her philandering mother walking out on the family on Christmas (which, apropos nothing, has a curious similarity to Phoebe Cates’ dead santa story from GREMLINS), Sophie says, as if she hadn’t heard a word, that she’s glad Jennifer has arrived because she gets so lonely at night. Throughout their entire conversation, in fact, Jennifer’s dialog and Sophie’s dialog never seem to quite match up, as if they were in two separate movies. This makes for an acute description of the way in which young women readily perform the drama of being best friends forever, while not really acknowledging each other as individuals, or even liking each other very much. Shortly hereafter, Sophie absconds with Jennifer’s black and gold Armani pullover (all of the apparel in this film is provided by Armani, which contributes excellently to the film’s slick, icy look) to rendezvous with her boyfriend along the treeline. First she brags about knowing the daughter of a celebrity and stealing her clothes, but when she realizes that her boyfriend is now interested in Jennifer, she changes her tune. “She wears her hair like mine,” Sophie boasts, as if she were the influencer, and then cattily divulges that Jennifer sleepwalks, and must be crazy. PHENOMENA being essentially a slasher movie, Sophie isn’t long for this world, but Jennifer responds to her gruesome murder with a spirit of vengeance for her supposed friend.

PHENOMENA also boasts the mother of all mean girl sequences, a psychotic update of CARRIE’s “plug it up” scene, in which Jennifer’s classmates have cottoned to the fact that she “thinks” she can speak to bugs. A fabulous swirling tracking shot gathers a growing gang of girls around Jennifer, as they taunt her with insect noises which transform into a chant: WE WORSHIP YOU! WE WORSHIP YOU! Naturally, Jennifer’s insect friends descend on the school, threatening to crash through the windows as she declares messianically, “I love you. I love you all.” Of course, the grownups at the academy are partially to blame for the atmosphere around Jennifer. This revelation about her powers came to light because, guided by the psychic voice of a firefly, Jennifer wandered into the night to retrieve from the trees one of Sophie’s gloves, which contains a helpful maggot. This is another one of the film’s great and powerful scenes: Jennifer, cherubic in a white nightgown and dwarfed by the cold luminous cube of her dorm, glides across the pitch-black lawn as if in slow motion–while, in stark contradiction to this dreamy image, the soundtrack blares with a massive, speedy metal anthem. It’s a fascinating aesthetic device that Argento will employ again later in the film, accompanying slow, quite action with crushing, thrashy music. In any case, when Jennifer naively surfaces the fact that a maggot told her about Sophie’s murder, the domineering headmistress (the astonishing-looking Dalila Di Lazzaro, who is no Alida Valli, but she gets the job done) calls the men in the white coats. Jennifer is subject to a number of humiliating experiments and tests to evaluate her mental health (“Do you take anything? Like, do you understand…DRUGS?”), on which she storms out. Where Laura Palmer is almost totally alone in the world due to her perceived perfection, Jennifer Corvino is isolated by constant scrutiny.

Laura has just one, tragically ineffectual source of aid–generically, forces from the Black Lodge. The backwards-speaking Man From Another World seems to try to warn her, and Agent Cooper, of her fate, but he speaks only in poetic code. Dale himself tries and fails to advise her through her dreams, and Laura also receives strange messages from one of her Meals On Wheels recipients. Mrs. Chalfont and her grandson, a mute junior magician who hides behind a disturbing pagan mask, try to intervene with Laura, but only manage to terrorize her further. A person’s ordinary sources of support are absent or utterly corrupt, including Laura’s mother (the always excellent Grace Zabriskie), a terminally nervous chainsmoker who exists in a state of fragile, attenuated silence, unable to confront what she seems to know is happening between her husband and her daughter. Although Sarah Palmer also receives visions from the Black Lodge, she retreats from them in terror and resigns herself to her circumstances. She even accepts, tremulously, an obviously drugged libation from her husband before bedtime, when the trouble begins.

The great power of FIRE WALK WITH ME, and also Twin Peaks, is that Laura’s father is not pure evil. Even if you were to start totally from scratch for the movie, you could never in a million years cast a more perfect individual than Ray Wise as Leland Palmer. Wise’s limitlessly expressive face, physical vitality, and unpredictable vacillation between warmth and violence lend the perfect depth to Leland, who simultaneously inspires pity and fear. He truly loves his daughter, frantically trying to console her when they are shockingly confronted by the One-Armed Man in traffic, and even appearing tearfully at her nightstand in a display of emotion that amounts to a tacit admission of guilt. He evinces a genuine desire to be close to his daughter, which is unfortunately inseparable from his desire to be with her as a man. Leland is much more than a good guy by day, and a bad guy when witlessly possessed by an evil spirit. Within David Lynch’s supernatural fable is a completely authentic story about mental illness and incest that strikes all the right psychological chords.


While Jennifer’s father never becomes more than an idea, she does attract a separate father figure in the course of mission to identify Sophie’s killer, who probably also murdered another schoolgirl in the recent past. Donald Pleasance plays a paraplegic forensic entomologist who happened to have been close friends with the original victim. Jennifer meets him after one of her somnambulistic excursions, during which she narrowly escapes being gang raped by some virile college men. She is surprised in the woods by a chimpanzee, who she trustingly follows to the safety of Dr. John McGregor’s eccentric home in the woods. McGregor, who apparently has a way with teenage girls, quickly determines that Jennifer has a special connection to insects–specifically, he notes that a certain beetle in his care is trying to get it on with her: “You’re arousing him, and he’s doing his best to arouse you.” While McGregor is meant to be charming, and never does anything explicitly inappropriate, his role in the story contributes to a feeling that Jennifer can never escape her freudian circumstances, whether she is being accused of having sex with her father, actually pining for her father, or being eroticized by the nearest father figure in her life.

Whatever it may lack in psychological realism compared with FWWM, PHENOMENA takes much stranger strides in examining the role of the mother in this sort of saga. Already we have been introduced to the idea of Jennifer’s deadbeat mom, and the angry, jealous-seeming headmistress who tries to have her committed, but there is a third figure in play who the audience may have counted out at the beginning of the movie. Dario Argento’s erstwhile creative and romantic partner Daria Nicolodi (from whom he separated the year of this film’s release–and whatever it means, Argento cast his daughter Fiore, from another partnership, as the first victim) plays Frau Bruckner, an employee at the school who seems pretty dismissible at first. She suddenly becomes relevant toward the last act when McGregor is murdered by the mysterious killer. Seemingly sympathetic, Bruckner invites Jennifer to spend the night at her home–but once they’re there, the older woman suddenly becomes strange and threatening. Noticing a profusion of shrouded mirrors in the house, Jennifer prompts her hostess to deliver a disturbing monologue about her “sick” son, who we find out is the product of a rape. Whatever is wrong with him, she considers him a burden and a constant torment. “These things can happen in a woman’s life,” Bruckner observes darkly. Indeed, even a normal pregnancy is something that happens to a woman, something she cannot share with her husband nor her children. The child is under no natural obligation to empathize with the trials of motherhood, and inevitably, the person that the child becomes is under no one’s control. This can be pretty bad news on the part of the mother, but from the child’s point of view, if you are primarily identified as something that has happened to your mother, then what can you possibly expect from her?

For Jennifer, this type of logic leads her in an unfortunate direction. Things escalate quickly with the obviously bad-news Bruckner, leading to a chase that includes one of the gnarliest images ever to grace a screen: Jennifer, clad in her white-on-white uniform, plunges into the basement dungeon, which is occupied mainly by a pit that is brimming with a stew composed of putrifying human remains. Jennifer struggles to tread water in this rancid soup as Bruckner taunts her; nearby, an interloping detective is chained to a wall, and uses Jennifer’s diversion to break his own thumb and slip out of his manacles, attacking Bruckner with the chain. Jennifer flees the scene, and finds herself in the room of Bruckner’s little boy. Foolishly, she identifies with him, perhaps from one abandoned and stigmatized child to another, and tells him that he is finally free of his evil mother. When she removes the shroud from a mirror, the child flies into a rage, revealing himself to be indescribably deformed and equally violent. He chases Jennifer out to a lake and onto a motorboat, in a scene curiously reminiscent of the end of FRIDAY THE 13TH. She summons a swarm of insects that skeletonize the boy, and makes her way to shore, only to be confronted by Bruckner. The madwoman confesses to murdering McGregor and others in order to hide her son’s taste for schoolgirl blood, and nearly decapitates Jennifer with a piece of sheet metal–before she is attacked by Inga, McGregor’s helper monkey. This is preceded by the most ludicrous segment of the entire film. It is comparatively acceptable when Detective Jennifer went out into the countryside with a stylized glass box containing a corpse-sniffing fly, but it is truly hard to excuse when vengeful Inga goes on the trail of her master’s killer, finding a discarded razor in a garbage can, and presumably, tracing it back to Bruckner. Here at the end of this wild ride, Jennifer watches Inga slash Bruckner to pieces. As Wikipedia eloquently puts it, “With the ordeal over, Jennifer and the chimp embrace.”

Even detractors of PHENOMENA will usually admit that its high camp is extremely entertaining. FIRE WALK WITH ME has hardly a shred of humor, unlike the frequently kitschy and nostalgic Twin Peaks, making it a constant stream of wrenching terror and sadness. Laura’s appalling fate is sealed by a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy: She is being raped by her father, which produces in her a suicidal self-loathing, which leads to her become a whore, and then when her father discovers this activity, he chooses to murder her. Although FWWM is much easier to identify as a work of art, its finale has problems that are not dissimilar to PHENOMENA, and I personally find it less easy to like. Half-possessed by Bob, Leland drags Laura and another young sex worker off to a disused train car. There, he savagely brutalizes both women in an aria of sadism that forms the peak of the film’s grueling progression. The sequence is punctuated by hysterical confessions from Leland and Bob about their collaborative, lifelong victimization of Leland’s child. It is hard to watch, and even harder to look away. This is all well and good, but then, as if Lynch had painted himself into a corner, something utterly untrue to the world of the film takes place. Referencing a corny religious painting in Laura’s bedroom, an actual angel appears to the dying girl. As her soul leaves her body and is relegated to the Black Lodge for eternity, this tacky, cliched angel figure appears to give Laura some solace. If it is meant to be a hallucination, this is a lousy place for it, since Twin Peaks literally features ethereal figures all the time. If it is meant to be taken literally, and I believe it is, an angel is a lousy choice, since the Black Lodge is mainly dominated by (pseudo-) Native American ideology. There is a single reference to a guardian angel in an especially terrible piece of the second season, but I would refuse to accept that as a reasonable excuse for this. Just to pour some salt in the wound, the angel is accompanied by opera music, making a jarring aesthetic departure from the entire rest of the film and the show, which is characterized as much by Angelo Badalamenti’s jazz score as anything else. Lynch could at least have cast Julee Cruise as the angel to help keep us in the mood, but no such luck. This interruption makes it hard to stay focused on the film’s concluding image of Laura weeping in terror and relief, under Dale Cooper’s benevolent gaze, in the Black Lodge.

By this late hour, the reader may be wondering how I came to the conclusion that FIRE WALK WITH ME and PHENOMENA should be paired. The truth is simply that I watched them together one night, with no particular intention, and was totally startled by the way that they mirror and compliment one another. The excoriating sunlight, the ominous winds, the lumber, the simple savagery of youth, the special brutality of women, the unavoidable victimizing effect of parenthood on both parties, it was all there. PHENOMENA may present a more abstract account, compared with FWWM’s confrontational emotional realism, but a special synergy exists between the two films, in their address of their shared subject matter. Each presents an individual lens on the material, but together, they form a kind of piercing microscope that reveals profound truths about lost girl fables. I strongly recommend this double bill for all serious students of these tales.

Before I cut myself off, I would just like to make one further remark about FIRE WALK WITH ME. It is a serious shame that people remember Laura Palmer better than they remember the actress Sheryl Lee. Even I sometimes have a hard time remembering her name, and I do find that fans who can easily name Lara Flynn Boyle and Sherilyn Fenn have a hard time calling Laura Palmer anything other than Laura Palmer. I’m not entirely sure what accounts for this, other than the possibility that the Laura Palmer character is so archetypally exciting to people that she’s more important as a symbol, than as a body of work executed by a skilled performer. It’s completely unfair to Sheryl Lee, who gives us a performance that I wouldn’t even want to live through myself. The woman has to cry throughout the entire film, which seems exhausting to say the least, but it’s not a simple matter of emoting; she makes it so raw that it’s terrifying to watch. Lee takes a simple line like “Who was that man? Do you know him?”, and delivers it with the blistering urgency of a woman mounting the gallows. There is a lot to love about the formal composition of FWWM, but the truth is that without this actress’s torturous commitment to making Laura Palmer psychologically correct, the whole structure might come crashing down. Everyone whose life has been touched by Twin Peaks, even those of us who relate to the more iconic Donna and Audrey, owe Sheryl Lee more thanks than we have given her.

Inside the File Storage

Originally posted by youkicklikeanineyearoldgirl-cm

Television Show/ Movie/ Anime: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word count: 935

Genre: Slightly Smut

A/n: I’ve been dying to get this out of my mind, I just saw one little casual scene of Criminal Minds an BOOM, can’t get the prompt out of my head!

Keep reading

First Date

AN: A Rosie Story… with a wallop of Overprotective Parental Figures and a side of Sherlolly. :)

‘You’re on my foot!’

‘Move it then!’

‘You move!’

‘No!’

‘Ow, did you seriously just elbow me out of the way?!’

‘Shut up, you’re too loud! They might hear you!’

I’m too loud?!’

‘Yes! Damn it, now they’re looking over here. Get back and shut up!’

John held his breath and closed his eyes, his heart thundering against his ribs. If they were found… Oh, he dreaded the thought. Praying desperately for deliverance (or maybe a nice black hole to be sucked into), he pressed his back against the tree.

Beside him, and hogging the majority of the tree, Sherlock was doing the same.

After counting to 50, John peeled one eye open, then the other. ‘Is it safe?’ He whispered.

Sherlock quirked one eyebrow. ‘We shall see.’

They both turned to cautiously peer around the tree. John frowned. ‘Where did they go?’

‘Right behind you.’

Both John and Sherlock jumped and whirled around.

With her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes, at this moment, Rosie Watson was the embodiment of furious. Beside her, Victor Holmes was glaring a hole into his father, his hands clenched at his sides.

‘We can explain!’ John exclaimed.

‘We can?’ Sherlock turned to him in disbelief. John elbowed him sharply and the detective grunted, suddenly catching on.

He nodded eagerly and rubbed his bruised ribs. ‘I mean, we can! Absolutely! We were-’

‘Shut it, dad,’ Victor snapped. ‘We know you were both spying on us. You trained us to be aware of our surroundings. Did you think we didn’t know you were following us all day?’

‘And after you promised not to,’ Rosie joined in, crossing her arms.

Realising there was no way out, Sherlock and John exchanged guilty looks.

‘We’ve already called Aunt Molly.’ The colour drained from Sherlock’s face. ‘She says to tell you there’s a nice surprise waiting for you at home.’

From the way she said ‘nice’ and smiled wickedly, John was inordinately glad he was not Sherlock. But then, Rosie turned her glare onto him. And suddenly, he wished he were anyone else.

To his growing unease, she didn’t say a word. Instead, she lifted her chin, grabbed Victor’s hand, and they marched away.

Well, he was in deep trouble.

Sherlock’s mobile buzzed and he hesitantly pulled it out.

‘It’s from Mycroft,’ he said, reading it quickly. He grimaced. ‘Apparently, Victor also noticed the CCTV cameras watching them.’

‘We’re all in deep shit, aren’t we?’ John groaned and rubbed his face.

Sherlock chuckled. ‘Oh, yes.’

John leaned back against the tree. ‘They’re too young to be on their own.’

‘John, Rosie is 17 and Victor is not that far behind her.’ Sherlock gripped his shoulder and smirked. ‘It was only their first date. And from what we saw, only a little hand holding happened.’

Hand holding?’ John repeated, incredulous. A deadly rage welled up inside him and he seethed, ‘When you have a daughter, then you can lecture me all you want. But when you’re the father of a hands-y, libidinous boy, you don’t get to have an opinion!’

Shoving away from the tree, he stomped out of the park.

‘Oi, that’s my son, your godson, you’re maligning!’ Sherlock barked and hurried to overtake him.

oOo

From their bench on the far side of the park, Rosie and Victor watched as their fathers bickered and disappeared back into the city.

Victor shook his head and wrapped an arm around Rosie, who was still tense and wound up. She slowly relaxed and leaned against him.

‘They’re never going to change, are they?’

Victor chuckled and kissed her head. ‘Nope. We might as well get used to it.’

Rosie pouted.

It was bad enough that her father was an overprotective, Army Doctor, with a glare that had scared off every single boy who had dared darken their doorstep. Add in an Uncle with a fascination for murder and an evil grin that had sent one potential suitor to a therapist and an Aunt whose adorable smile hid a stomach of steel - not to mention, the all-knowing Mycroft who made the idea of privacy absolutely laughable -  and Rosie had become the most undateable girl in all of London!

Only Victor had passed muster (because he had been born into this crazy family). And even then, they wouldn’t stop interfering!

Victor threaded his fingers with hers and brushed his thumb soothingly over her palm. He hummed a soft melody in her ear. Slowly, her scowl faded. Here, in her best friend’s arms, suddenly it all didn’t seem so overwhelming. She felt safe and protected, cherished, ready to face the world outside of them.

Was it really any wonder she’d fallen for him?

Turning her head, her nose brushed his chin. His breath fell on her cheek, warm, and he stopped humming. Suddenly, the air was thick between them. Heavy with anticipation.

She could feel his heartbeat accelerate against her fingertips and he licked his lips nervously. She did the same and looked into his eyes, his beautiful green and blue eyes. She felt as though she were drowning in them. Her own eyes fell closed and she held her breath in anticipation.

But then nothing happened.

She peeked one eye open.

Victor was staring at her, wearing his ‘processing’ face. Rolling her eyes, she took matters into her own hands and closed the distance between them, her free hand reaching up to curl around his neck and hold him close as her lips pressed against his.

He started in surprise. Then he sunk into the kiss, his eyes falling shut and his arm tugging her against him.

It may not have been the perfect first date.

But to Rosie and Victor, it was the perfect beginning.

Twin Invasion

John (left) and Nick (right) Vasquez were brothers, John was the youngest brother and Nick the oldest. Also, he was hulkier than his brother even if both of them were beefcakes. John wasn’t a stereotyped jock like his brother, in fact, during his puberty he was frequently mocked for being skinny compared to his hunky big brother. Out of jealousy, he worked out until he was enough manful but still not like his brother. It was funny because when they were children, John much more of a man than Nick, the nerd who was watching cartoons every day and was passionate by paranormal, he was even nicknamed “Dib” because he had a small dick and was more like a baby. Then a growth spurt somehow turned him into an alpha male which changed the sibling hierarchy. Unknown to John, it was half true, in the past, Nick secretly went out of his house to find proof about a 7000 foot slug monster living in the forest, instead he found a strange and glowing stone and when he touched it, his muscle mass instantly increased. It was finally his chance to be the big man, to date Natasha Irken and be the favorite son. However, his ambitions quickly grew stronger as he dumped Natasha to date sexier girls and ruined John’s adolescence. When the two of them became a pair of Adonis, they started a successful model career. However Nick was renowned for being the bad boy archetype while John was the bachelor that every girl should be lucky to marry. Soon, John and Natasha’s wedding was announced everywhere which made Nick laugh because he didn’t thrusted into that couple. In spite of, in the inside he hated that Natasha was in love with John, not because he loved Natasha but because he loved his brother. During their childhood, his little brother was the one protecting him against his bullies and when they grew up he kept being his dear brother. Maybe he was too possessive or just envious that John only needed his charming behaviour and his good looks to have a lot of fans while Nick had to break the law to be famous. No, it was more than that, Nick wanted his brother to be jealous, to look at him, to lust after him, but now it was obvious that because of his teasing, his little brother hated him. What he could do to cope with his sadness? Alcohol and orgies were the only things which worked. Besides, John was homophobic and even Nick was disgusted by his feelings toward someone of the same gender. But today it was different, he would reveal his love to him, so he picked the lock of his brother’s house and waited for him.

Meanwhile, John was exiting his studio to jog as the flamboyant photographer wanted a real sweaty man for art, it was more because he wanted his queer dick to look at some real man, thought John. Then, he put his earphones and ran around the studio. As he was about to return to the studio, he saw a glowing light in the forest and head toward it. Close to it, he noticed a rock with numerous holes but the light had disappeared. As he leaned his head near to the rock, he was hypnotized when the glimmer returned, but nothing could have warn him about the thing inside it.

-What the fuck is that little shit?

-Hey! Bow in front of me, the Great Zim! You miserable and insignificant human!

-Hahaha! I can’t believe that! I must shoot this!

-Stop it! My picture only deserved to be represented by the most skillful painters of the Universe!

-Ha! What would you? Tickle my balls?

-Ggrrrr! You leave me no choice, lesser rank specie. It’s time for the INVASION!

The tiny green man grabbed his advanced gun and shot a giant net which captured John and pinned him to the ground. As he was squirming and groaning, Zim pushed a button on his gun which electrified the net as John screamed. Consequently, Zim smiled and jumped into his open mouth. His eyes widen as the alien crawled into his brain and digged itself in it. “AHHH! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! NNGGGG!”. John groaned and convulsed before cooling down and smirking as he torn off the net. “Hmm. This vessel is strong, it would be useful… I hope you enjoy your point of view, because Zim the Invader just have invade your body! You should be honored to be the host of an intergalactic conqueror! *Sniff* What a virile scent you have and that voice, yesss… but this body needs more hair.”. Zim/John searched into his meteorite and found a syringe that he injected in his neck which developed his hirsuteness.  

-Much better.

-Finally Jonh, we found you! Bring your dull butts here, we have some pics to shoot!

-Silence, human! You shall respect your emperor and call him and only… Well, I have a new form now and it would be a shame to waste this excellent piece of meat… I agree, vermin. But you shall call me by this only name, Great great emperor king with the royal and majestic and humongous staff.

-Alright… Follow us then, Great great emperor king with the royal and majestic and humongous penis.

-What’s a penis?

-… You know, we can talk about that after our work, gorgeous.

-Fine, I’m pleased to see that you are ready to serve your sovereign.

-Every time.

The photo shooting was unusual yet more lustful than expected. Zim didn’t listen to the photographer and instead explored his new body in front of the aroused cameraperson. As the extraterrestrial was possessing a human body for the first time, his reactions were real unlike the past John’s acting. The best was probably the pic where the model flexed his bulky biceps and shown his amazing hairy armpit whereas sweat poured from his messy hair to his tank top.

-I don’t know how you get all of that hair but I love it!  

After that, he left the studio and used his host’s memory to return at his house which was curiously unlocked. When he entered, he raised an eyebrow when he saw someone looking almost like him.

-Fascinating! Is that a new type of mirror?

-John!

-*High pitched* AHHH! I mean… *manlier* AHHH! Who are you?

-Don’t laugh with me John, it’s important!

-Fine… Hmm… Eric.

-Nick.

-Yeah Nick… Dear brother.

-Alright weirdo John… It’s kinda complicated but… I love you.

-And?

-And? What do you think about that?

-I think nothing, it’s your problem Nick if you want to lose time with foolish emotions, I have a planet to conquer!

-What are you talking about, John?

-Haha. The man you called John is my prisoner and my vessel, his body is mine just like the Earth! I am Zim the Invader! Supreme ruler of the Solar System and even more!

-John are you alright? You sound like a space being.

-What a… This is what I’m telling you since the beginning you dunce!

-Come on John, extraterrestrial doesn’t exist!

-You’re sure?

John grinned and use his net gun on Nick who couldn’t do nothing as he watched his little brother falling on the floor before a greenish creature exited his mouth.

-What the… Who are you?

-I AM ZIM! Do you hear that?! Your brother is mine forever!

-Noo! I will break free and squish you like a bug!

-Haha! Try!

-Ooh, my head… Nick? What’s happening.

-Well well, looks like my host is waking up, not for a long time!

Zim rushed into John’s shorts and into his member which made John yelling in pain as he gripped his penis.

-AAARGGHH! PLEASE HELP ME NICK!

-JOHN! No please! Take me instead!

-UNNNGGGG! IT IS MY BODY! STTOOOP IIIIIT! NOOOooo… Bone.

-John?

-Bone… bone boo bone bone, BOONY-BOONY-BONE, bone bone… BONER! Yes! I found the password of this human’s mind. Boner! Now I know everything that little Johnnie know, big bro. Did you know that because of you, your little brother was really sad? Boo-hoo. Fortunately he lifted iron and became this handsome dreamboat! Nevertheless, it wasn’t enough for daddy and mommy, it was always you the favorite son, even if you were a hooligan and a womanizer. So poor Johnnie had to prove that he is a respective man, not like you! Are you really thinking he cares about that Natha-slut? Hahaha! He wasted his whole life because of you, big brother! But now it’s finished, no more little Johnnie, only iron John, the lady-killer!

-Wait-wait! Could you at least release me?

-Don’t worry Nickie-boy, I’m sure that my big brother is strong enough to free himself. You know what? Maybe I need a little training before the real deal!

The new and hairier John took off his top as he rubbed with his large hands his burly torso, travelling on his light chest hair to his nipples and pinched them which made him moan as they were touchy, twisting them between the grip of his rough fingers.

-OOh! This receptacle is really sensitive but so entertaining.

-Don’t call my little brother a receptacle!

-Why? This what he is, a flesh container for my noble self… But I have to admit that I prefer this new skin over my past one.

John smirked with an arrogant smile that wasn’t his, he continued his provocation by sticking out his tongue and thrusting the air as his hands travelled on his sculpted abs and his hard package. It wasn’t his little brother anymore, he would never let his body being that hairy and unclean and that face, no it wasn’t him. It was nothing but a haughty and libidinous sexual beast. The filthy creature pursued by tearing off his short which revealed his hard member as he placed his dick between his hands and run them backwards and forwards to spin it like a fire stick. Nick tried to remove the net but he wasn’t strong enough and was forced to watch the whole scene. John groaned as he grasped his penis and fondled it. Nick couldn’t believe it, his brother always wanted a shaved body, but Nick had to admit that he loved the way of his precum falling into his pubic hair and on his hairy legs, he wanted to suck it for him, but he was disgusted by own thought. Finally, John roared as his dick shot loads of jizz straight on his brother’s sickened face.  

-Ahhh… Lick it old man.

-What? But…

-I told you to lick it. Or do you prefer that something happen to your pretty little brother’s face?    

-No no! Fine…

Nick moved his tongue around his cheeks as he tasted the mix of manly hormones and salt, he wanted to spit it but John abruptly pushed his hand on his lips, closing them.

-Swallow it, whore.

Nick swallowed the semen whereas his brother passed his finger on his nose and picked on the cum on it before putting it in his mouth and savored it.

-Hmm… Taste better than any juice in the galaxy.

John caressed softly his brother’s cheek before leaving. During the whole night, Nick asked himself about his brother’s safety. Whereas, the thing inside John was fucking every girls in a nightclub, he was amazed by the stallion’s stamina and when he came back to his house, he was covered by sweat and his own cum, totally naked, Nick was begging him to leave his little brother which made him laugh.

-Are you kidding me? I’m doing you a favor, because if it was the real John, he would reject and dump you! But with me in control, it’s not the same… Let’s have a deal, you let me inside your little brother and your secret, is a secret.

-What kind of secret? I just love you like a brother love…

-Tatata. Don’t play with words big brother. You know I am a nice little brother, so I wouldn’t tell that you are a faggot.

-I am not! Why would I…

-Shut up! Now clean my house. And if I notice you looking at me, I will beat you up you little shit! Understand?

-Yes, sir.

Without any effort, John removed the net as he flexed his muscular guns and licked his sweaty armpits before forcing his big brother’s mouth on it.

-Hmm. This host is full of interesting flavors… Start by cleaning my dirty underarms, maid!

-*Choke* B-but…

-NOW!

Nick grudgingly licked his little brother’s pit as he was disgusted and turned on at the same time. After that, a turn of events occurred. Indeed, John dumped Natasha and destroyed his neat facade with his various indecencies. Contrariwise, Nick stopped his bawdiness and followed his little brother everywhere, their parents were thinking that it was adorable that Nick was looking after his little brother, but in fact he was his slave. He enjoyed being abused and beaten by the pretty face of his perfect little brother, he felt like he deserved it for what he did and his “perverted” love toward him. Furthermore, he also loved that his good little brother was corrupted and perverted by a gruesome creature, he often peeped his little brother’s room as he banged pussies, taunted his reflection or fought for control. With time, John became more muscular while Nick lose some of his muscle mass. Nowadays, the brothers were more like twins and their career were more fruitful, John even registered them into dominance porns where, ironically, John is portrayed as the submissive one. Of course at home, the possessed little brother would use that as a reason to abuse his older brother. The new Nick would do everything to make his tormentor and brother happy. For example, in this photo Nick stay in the background to not ruin his brother’s selfie.

-Big bro, why are you far away from me? Are you angry?

-But John, you…

-Come here my dear brother.

Nick gulped as he approached his little brother, he was fond of those armpits, it was so boring that he kept shaving them. Suddenly, John yawned and put his arm around Nick’s shoulders, a surprised Nick listened to his brother as he whispered in his ear and even bit it.

-I’m watching you darling brother and if I notice a bulge in your shorts until the end of our selfies, I will beat you up.

John faked a smile as he laughed and tried to refrain his erection but his brother kept making cute and seductive face at him, he could drown himself into his blue eyes and those so kissable lips. Plus John loved the way the alien inside John change his brother, he perfectly shaped his furry eyebrows and let the hair proliferate on him, he wanted a bulge and his brother beating him up, forcing him to lick those wonderful armpits and it was the closer their relationship could get to.  

-Come on Nick, I know you want it, let your snake slither inside your pants, for me.

His little brother faked that he couldn’t take the selfie, whining and biting his lips as a results of that, but it was to excite Nick who resisted against his taunting. Tired, John took the selfie and slapped his big brother’s bubble butt, accidentally causing a giant boner.  

-What?! It-it didn’t… I mean, it’s already the end of…

-Shh. I didn’t post the selfie on tumblr, so it’s not the end of the selfie yet.

-Bu-but…

-I know you want it old man, tell me, beg me for it.

Nick chewed his tongue but his brother was so close, almost kissing him and his husky voice was so enthralling, it was too much.

-Please sir, beat me up in your den.

-Ha. Good boy.

John patted his big brother’s hair before rushing to their sport car and as Nick arrived, he locked the doors.

-John, I’m still outside.

-Of course I know, you think that I’m blind, repulsive queer?

-No no. Of course not, but how am I supposed to come back home?

-What a dumbass… I refuse to share my vehicle with a lower being like you. Plus I like my beloved brother all sweaty. Rrrr.

-Oh yeah sir, I will be sweaty for you.

-And you better run, I won’t wait for something inferior as you.

John laughed before leaving while his big brother jogged to his house. As a matter of fact, John sold Nick’s house to buy his own things and his past owner was forced (apparently) to sleep in a dog basket in his little brother’s room and when he was “busy” with some chicks he was forced to do the household chores even if he already made them. Zim explained that his invasion of John allowed him to manipulate his feelings and memories, including the one related to his older sibling. In fact, his hatred against Nick is a merging between John’s jealousy and Zim’s dislike toward humans. Consequently, Zim/John constantly harassed Nick by saying that it was his fault if John was possessed because if he wasn’t envious of his brother, he wouldn’t wanted to do everything to be the best at his job and wouldn’t have jog in the forest. Nick lamented a little before entering in his brother’s house who was lifting enormous barbells. All of a sudden, when he saw Nick, he threw the barbells to the ground and rushed to him.

-Ah you’re there! I had to wait for you faggot! Why you didn’t entered in the car with me? Now you’re sweating like a nasty pig!

-But you sa…

-Shut up! I’m talking! You humiliate me in front of everyone, lusting after an alpha male like me, your own brother! You’re disgusting!

-I’m sorry.

-Oh, you will be.

John lifted his fist against Nick who closed his eyes as he was ready to be punched, but nothing happened. His little brother was just standing there, smiling innocently.

-Follow me my precious half.

Soon, they arrived in John’s workout room who showed numerous pictures of John and Greek-like statues of him. John tapped his brother’s back before he moved behind a punching bag and grabbed it.

-Come on my one and only brother. Spit your loathe against me.

-What?

-It’s what punching bag are made for, right? Do it.

With a smug face, John glanced at his brother who started to reluctantly punch.

-What a lame hit, old man, is that all that you can do?

-I can’t Nick, I-I…

-You pathetic, disgusting and decrepit fag, you’re burden for me since I possessed this brainless meat sack! Show me your loathe!

-Bu-but… AHHH! I’m sick of you! I want my little brother back! I-I’m not a faggot! Leave my brother the fuck alone you gross creature!

In his frenzy, Nick unintentionally (perhaps) punched John who smiled evilly and licked the blood from the cut on his lips which quickly healed by itself.

-I’m sorry John, I didn’t mean to…

-You call that strength? Let me show you what it really means.

John grabbed the punching bag and detached it from the ground where is was supposedly stuck. His biceps and triceps were flexing into two gorgeous representations of a powerful manliness and the light was shining on his beefy pecs and delicious underarms hair. Nick fell and crawl on the floor as he was scared to get crushed by the bag, instead John roared and threw it on a cement wall who was destroyed.

-Home-run! What a fucking stud! Check out those big guns!

-John! You damaged your house!

-Slow-witted fool, I sold this house yesterday while you were asleep.

-Why?! John loved this house, he always said that…

-Are you talking about that mundane past John again? Are you suggesting that you prefer this stupid old John over me?  

-NO no! I’m sorry.

-Good, we have a boat waiting for us.  

Nick was confused when his brother told him to go on a boat, but he quickly followed him to show his obedience.

-John? Are you sure that this is okay? The weather seems a bit…

-Shut up… Tell me hideous maid, have you made my breakfast?  

-Yeah… Sadly, it’s still in the house that you sold.

-You useless piece of shit! Lucky for you, there is a small kitchen in my boat, you have 2 minutes to make it.

-But your hot chocolate is only warm after 2 minutes…

-Do as I say! Now it’s 1 minute and 59 seconds!

Nick panicked and rushed to the kitchen and when he finished, he brought the platter full of delectable food.

-Peel the banana for me.

-Which banana?

-The one on the platter, you moronic buffoon!

Nick peeled the fruit and when it was finished, John caught it stormily before licking it as he took off his shorts with the other hand. Then, he placed his index finger and his thumb around his rod moved the skin on. Nick drooled and admired his brother who stirred his lips on the fruit as his voice thundered while his member shot tons of cum on the platter. John eyed ravenously at his brother and scoured the banana on his wet dick before putting it on the platter.

-Enjoy your breakfast.

-What?

-Haha, my cherished yet naïve brother, I said, ENJOY YOUR FUCKING BREAKFAST!

John banged his fist on the boat which encouraged Nick to “enjoy his breakfast” whereas his voracious brother was watching. First, he took the butter croissant coated with semen and ingested it in one mouthful. The vienoisserie was crisp and melted in his mouth thanks to his virile brother’s semen. Next, he drank the chocolate until the mug was empty and even lick the manjuice around it, it tasted extraordinarily warm with the mix of spicy jizz and sugar. At the end, he took the banana and began to eat the “tip”. Unknown to him, his little brother was eating the other half which resulted in a kiss. Nick tried to withdraw his mouth but John grabbed his hair and pulled him more against him as they both fell on the ground and clashed their toned body together. John moaned as their tongues were in a tussle, scuffling together and sharing his luscious semen. Thereupon in their sexual rage, John pushed his huge Mr. Dick into his big brother’s asshole and rammed it as muffled grunting echoed between them. John digged deeper into the boypussy as the sissy lad cried in pleasure and clenched his boycunt at every thrusts. Suddenly, Nick’s torso began to glow just like the rock of his past did.

-I knew it. You’re the one.

-Knew what?

-You’re the one who stole my muscle growth energy inside that falling rock, right?

-Your energy? You were late with a delay of numerous years!

-Yeah yeah, my spaceship had turbulences. Now, it’s time to claim my muscle growth energy!

-H-how?

-Well, with a delightful way.

-What are you… AAHHH!

Nick screeched as he felt something creeping in his anus, he tried to escape but John’s grip was stronger.

-UNNGG! What is this?!

-It’s my seed of course and soon, there will be a lot of me inside you, haha! *Thrust*. Oh Yeah harder! *Thrust*. You know what’s funny? *Thrust*. If you hadn’t discovered my muscle energy, I would never have needed a host. *Thrust*. But your selfishness allowed me to found a comfier and sexier choice. *Thrust*. And now, a second one would be mine.

The former delinquent futilely wiggled his backside, but his possessed little brother grabbed his cheeks and slapped them which allowed more corrupted fluid inside him. Soon, his toned legs were paralyzed and he screamed as couldn’t move them. His wailing became more high-pitched when he felt the goo infesting his rumbling abs, his breathing was difficult as his chest was filled with the liquid. Then, his healthy arms inflated and trembled as he could nothing but to shriek and cry.

-OOoooh fucknoo, PLEASE! Stop it!

-Yesss! You’re enjoying that, right?

-AAAHHHHH!

Nick arched his back as his brain was drown with space semen, absorbing it. With one more scream, Nick fainted as his younger brother kept humping him while he was unconscious. Without warning, the alpha twins began glowing green as they both screamed, John reaching the peak of his orgasm and Nick’s brain overloading with outer space parasites, injecting mutated testosterones forcing his brain to give eyeteeth for devious sexual practices while his homophobic thoughts and probity were imprisoned. After some sensuous time, Nick opened his new green eyes, just like his brother and grinned at him as he flexed his biceps.

-I should have possessed this one earlier.

-Maybe, but it was so much fun to play with him.

-I’m right, now me and my brother are finally one.

-No more Nick and no more John, only Zim the Invader.

One Year Later, a reporter was visiting Nick’s boat, searching for something as they followed the sound of moaning and groaning. When they arrived in the right room, they watched in horror as the two brothers were fucking together, Nick was drilling his big brother’s hole whereas John pushed his whole hand into his little brother’s one. Their toned and sweaty body were touching as they kissed and bit each other all over their soft face, burly necks, square shoulders, muscular pecs and six packs. The former brothers and now twins were almost identical, the rare differences were that Nick was the dominant one with a deep roaring baritone while his older brother was more of a bottom boyslut with high pitched groaning.

-AAHH fuck yes!

-Oooh, there is our journalist brother.

-Do you want to start the interview later?

-UNNNGGNOOO! START NOW!

-Alright… What do you think about your famous and incestuous relationship?

-Haha, it’s so fucking greaaAAAATTT! My big brother is the only one who can FULLY and DEEPLY, ARRGHH… understand me.

-Okay, huh, how your parents reacted when they discovered the bond between their two sons?

-Well, at first they were thinking that it was so cute how much we were close together. TheeenNNGG!… at one point, they found us naked and docking in our childhood bed.

-Yes, so hot. Those fossils disinherited us, what a joke!

-I can understand. After all, you two are now one of the wealthiest couple and twin brothers in the world.

-And the Universe baby.

-Yeah… Can I ask you one more question, who is John and who is Nick.

-FUUUCKK!… This is simple… I am John and Nick.

-And I am Nick and John.

-We are each other at the same time.

-I-I don’t really understand…

-Hahaha! Don’t worry, this is just a thing between us. Would you like champagne, handsome?

-I’m not sure if… Wait?! This champagne is unique, it-it cost so much!  

The journalist raced to the glass of champagne and gulped it. The twins stopped in their sexual rush and watched as the reporter fell on the ground and convulsed, grinning from ear to ear with their eyes glowing green.

———————

I put some clues about Invader Zim in the story, how many clues did you needed to guess that this story would be about him?

Thanks rodchangescameron for the idea.^^

Also, this story was inspired by Vchris1989, Jim and Zim.


Bad Like Me
by Courtney Love
The following appeared in Bust Magazine in 1996.


I was born bad.
My biological dad is a bad man, so mama simply thought,
“Ooh, she’s got that bad blood seed in her.”
At heart, home, hearth and boyfriend,
I am a full-on good girl prude
-but don’t tell anyone-
When you’re a bad girl, people are terrified of you.
You don’t get mugged or raped because you don’t have any victim energy
(I’m sure it has happened, just not as often).
It’s bad if you’re a famous one, though, because the boys all wanna fuck you, but then you get all girl-gooey and they
go, “Oooh,”
because they thought you were gonna spank them.
Duh, asshole.
When you’re a bad girl, everyone does what you want.
You have room to grow.
Bad girls are kinder than good girls
and they are better to other girls, mostly,
unless said other girls are boy-pleasin’ users
who want a little bad girl spice rubbed off on ‘em
like so much perfume.
Bad girls are also more spiritual
and less prone to drug addiction, or, if they have it,
when they quit they quit.
Bad girls know genius before the other dumb good girls do.
They get the hot guys first
'cause they aren’t looking for that big stamp of popularity approval.
In Amadeus, Soliari says Mozart is ugly;
the Soprano (a naughty bad girl) replies,
“A woman of taste only thinks of genius.”
Bad girls love boy flesh that has an astronomical IQ.
Most bad girls are not as libidinous as good girls.
Sex is intrigue, not looks; it’s build-up and mind-warping.
Bad girls love like lions
and kill those who fuck with their kin.
Good girls steal bad girls’ boys.
Bad girls fuck your boyfriends, yeah,
but we feel shitty about it,
sort of.
You’re there to take care of the dog, to have the BBQs.
We’re there to fly in to New York or L.A. or Paris and lock up in a four-star for three days while your boyfriend
and us do things you’ll never know about
and he’d never dare do to you.
We feel a little guilty.
Bad girls are “femmenists;”
we like our dark Nars lipstick and LaPerla panties,
but we hate sexism,
even if we do fuck your husbands/boyfriends.
We understand men, we love them,
us hetero/bi bad girls.
We are not psycho bad girls;
those are evil and in a class of their own.
Maybe BUST will do an “evil girl” issue
then we can out them all.
They are usually considered good girls by the community
(e.g. Mary Lou Lord in her high quaky voice and “widdle gurl” act. How could she be capable of severing the head of a kitty and putting it on your front porch with a syringe in it’s cornea? No, not that widdle good gurl!)
Bad girls will get obsessed if you dump us nasty,
but instead of resorting to evil good girl tactics
we will do things like:
make your band open for us someday;
send all your mail to a Der Wienerschnitzel in Watts;
get a guitar for revenge;
do genius comics and be a genius
such as my favorite NYC bad girl, Dame Darcy, goddess supreme.
We met on the one day I’d uttered her name in a foreign country.
She is a bad girl;
she’s friends with Lisa Suckdog who has that great zine Rollerderby.
Lisa tries to be a bad girl, crawlin’ around nekkid and stuff,
but I think she wasn’t born with it.
Hey, I could be totally wrong.
Darby from Ben is Dead is a bad girl.
She makes fun of me but bad girls do that to each other,
unfortunately.
Shouldn’t we all be piling up on Juliana or something?
Cristina Martinez of Boss Hogg is a hot babe bad girl
-some day she’ll lose that Spencer guy and come into her own fabulousness.
She’s got a swinging bad girl Puerto Rican booty.
Man, you don’t wanna get on the wrong end of her rattail comb.
See, bad girls get fucked up, like me or Cristina or Inger Lorre-
she’s a natural star and the baddest girl of us all.
We just cannot cross the line from bad girl to evil girl,
leave that for the…
no point in naming names.
Alanis Morrisette just won a bunch of Grammys
and she went to the Grammys.
No bad girl would go to the Grammys.
Don’t dump a bad girl
'cause one day you’ll have to come back and grovel for something;
watch it, man
-hell hath no fury like a bad girl dumped ill-
Bad girls can deal with a little infidelity;
good girls will leave you on “principle.”
Bad girls can be as classy as Jackie O.,
who was a bad girl, she just didn’t think it was our business to know that.
My sister Ms. Barrymore is a way bad girl.
We are going to wear acid-wash to the Academy Awards.
Of course bad girls go to the Academy Award parties
-only if you get nominated are you busy-
Good girls live in a state of sulking or gloating,
'cause they are getting their butts kissed
or having to kiss butt.
But my friend-who’s a good boy outside,
but a very bad boy inside-
told me that there’s a middle state wherein, like if you go to the Academy Awards you are going out of your way to get your butt kissed,
that’s lame.
We can be total media whores,
but we can also be completely mysterious.
All bad girls in the NYC and LA areas have slept with other girls
just because
Bad girls love like no one else.
Bad girls swallow
-it is sooo rude to spit, but don’t do it the first time.
I don’t know why I think that, I just think the good girl part of the bad girl says they know you give good head,
so make the worms wait.
If you’re a single girl on the make, I suggest power.
You have to work hard to acquire it, and no one will help you.
You will gain many girl enemies.
That’s 'cause you eventually wind up playing the wife of a huge publisher -who is alive and happens to like you-in some big movie and all the lame-o’s that work at his magazines you could have chopped but you won’t 'cause
BAD GIRLS DO NOT EVER ABUSE POWER
once they have acquired it,
except occasionally for sexual purposes only.
Bad girls do not fake orgasms,
or they betray only themselves.
Bad girls have bad boy boyfriends
but mostly good boy boyfriends
'cause the sweet-faced angelboy is really horrid
and Mr. Gnarly is a big wimp who wants to know what sweater to wear onstage tonight;
blechhh!
Bad girls sometimes wimp out and call,
though that’s separating the wheat from the chaff;
the men from the wimps. If you can’t be friends with him forget it.
If he doesn’t know how to actually get you to shut the fuck up, it’s not worth that much.
Fuck the phone game; other games are way funner.
I’m a loser at the phone game.
If you want to be a femme fatale, go for it and never call back, tally up, etc.
The good ones do not even get the phone game.
It’s hard to believe but true.
Cat and mouse is for Elizabethans and Victorians.
Bad girls will always give you the shirt off their backs.
Bad girls are vulgar,
but we have the potential for total class.


anonymous asked:

#17 Veronica :) TMP prompt

“I let you grab my ass at the icecream store.”

aka, Veronica stumbles out of the closet… literally 

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Veronica Lodge was an illicit social icon in Riverdale High, known but barely spoken about in anything but a hushed tone. People didn’t fear her; they found her fascinating more than anything. How could a cursed young woman like herself still stand so tall in those wicked heels after everything she’d gone through? I

Perhaps it was with the support of an insanely charming and hardly chaste River Vixen who secretly befriended her. In Veronica’s defence, she hadn’t kept the friendship a secret on purpose. But the idea of being known to interact while also bruising lips in the stalls of the North hall girls’ washroom seemed… rather obscene. Surely someone would figure things out, especially when Veronica’s lustful gaze turned into one of emotional passion. 

Somehow you’d kept it a secret for over a year and a half. But as the seasons changed, so did the nature of your fling.

She was falling in love with you and suddenly the sensuous obsession between the two of you meant so much more. It was no longer the fling either of you had meant it to be but as far as Veronica was concerned, it was one sided. 

How could she know that you were completely enraptured by her very existence? The two of you would need a priest to shrive you for the sinful love and lust that you both wore like perfume. 

Once finally turning eighteen, Veronica Lodge decided it was time to reveal the truth to her mother. It wasn’t the fear of being rejected by her mother that tore apart her stomach like the centre of a storm. It was the gut wrenching fear of what would happen after she told the truth. 

Would you abandon her in fear of people putting the pieces together? 

These were only a few of her thoughts as the two of you sat on the floor of her living room. It was one of the only safe places to be around each other in Riverdale because no teenagers were around on Veronica’s street. Veronica had let her worry slip through the cracks of her mask that she wore so carefully and you had begun to notice. 

You offered her a massage and Veronica couldn’t deny that your fingers against her skin was what she needed to relax. You carefully unzipped her cheerleading uniform and gently pulled the creamy turtleneck sweater over her head. 

Veronica was sitting back on her legs, humming an offbeat version of Drunk in Love. Your fingers were kneading into the curve of her shoulder blades and picking up a rhythm with the vibrations coursing through her upper body. Veronica didn’t quite believe you, but you’d tirelessly tried to convince her that she had a beautiful voice. 

“I think I’m going to tell my mom,” Veronica whispered after a short moment of silence. She sounded cautious, almost seeming more terrified about telling you than she did about telling her mother she was gay. 

“Hermione doesn’t seem like the judgmental type, Ronnie. I know it’s a big deal but I think it’d go really well.”

As Veronica sighed, you tugged her sweater down and zipping the cheerleading uniform back up. “I just don’t know what to even say. Any chance you want to do it for me?”

The pout on her lips when she turned around elicited a rumbling laugh from your lips. “Unfortunately that isn’t my place, but I’m always here for moral support.”

She took your hand and gently guided it to her cheek, letting your fingers splay over her smooth, latte skin. Her face was invitingly warm and her eyes held a nervous yet gentle expression. And even in the innocent moment between two young girls who had absolutely nothing figured out, a libidinous energy sparked between you.

Focus Veronica, she found herself thinking at the same moment you mentally repeated “this isn’t the time, Y/N” over and over again in your mind.

Yet teenagers, as they always seem to be, have a selfish tendency to take what they want. Full, glossed lips met with yours and pulled you into a deep kiss. As Veronica leaned back onto her legs, you were leaning forward in perfect unison. The crisp taste of cocoa from the hot chocolate you had shared earlier was a prominent flavour on your entangled tongues. 

One of your hands ran up and down her silky thigh in a circular motion, dipping into the dimple beneath her hip. Veronica was no quiet damsel in distress, instead letting every moan escape her lips like poetry you wanted to replay in your head. All it took was your hand to go from her thigh to her back, pulling the zipper back down and slipping underneath the constricting sweater. 

But before anything could come from the arousing encounter on the living room floor, the sound of keys jingling from the front hall sounded through the home like an alarm. Your hand shot back as if your finger tips had been scorched by blue flames. Veronica leapt from the ground, her lithe frame transitioning into the spirited cheerleaders body she needed at that moment. It was like a routine and Veronica didn’t know the steps, but nevertheless she was pulling you from the ground and dancing you around the furniture into the… closet?

Before Hermione Lodge could even take a step into her home, the two of you were thigh to thigh and chest to chest in the unreasonably small coat closet. It was unimaginably cruel, forced into such close proximity with the indents of her teeth in your bottom lip and proof of her arousal uncomfortably hot between her thighs. 

Veronica? Where are you?” Hermione’s voice sounded reasonably far away, probably in the bedroom. 

A nervous laugh bubbled in your chest and Veronica could almost see it, forcing her to cover your mouth. In an attempt to make light of the immensely uncomfortable situation, your tongue slipped between your lips and licked her palm in a swift motion. You smirked when she yanked her hand back as if she had been bit. Veronica suppressed a gasp and glared at you with a frustrated furrow to her manicured brows.  

“This is the worst timing ever,” she whispered angrily, more hot and bothered than actually mad. 

“I let you grab my ass at the ice-cream store. Talk about timing, Veronica. The guy was about to give me extra brownie chunks.”

She groaned yet still placed a hand on your waist. She had decided that she could always claim to be steadying herself. You, on the other hand could read her perfectly calculative mind and couldn’t help but be thankful for ridiculously scandalous moments like that one. 

When were you ever going to be hiding in a closet with someone you–

“I think I love you,” Veronica mumbled only a breath away from your lips. Neither of you noticed that her voice was slightly loud or that Hermione had stopped calling her daughter’s name. 

Instead, all you could focus on was the rapid heartbeats shared between the two of you and a thrilling spark in your chests. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth the same moment that Hermione Lodge opened the closet door. 

“Good evening Veronica. Is this closeted make out supposed to be ironic or are you still hiding your girlfriend from me?”

Veronica’s mouth opened and closed a few times before a coherent thought went through her mind. “I–She–She’s not my girl–”

You signalled for her to hush by grabbing her hand proudly and looking Hermione right in the eyes. “Nice to meet you outside of the diner, Mrs. Lodge. It’s been a long time since you’ve worked there. I’m Y/N, Veronica’s girlfriend.”

“I know your name, Y/N. Veronica never stops talking about you.”

So that’s why it was no surprise to find you in a closet. 

“You mean I outed myself before tonight?” Veronica exasperated, her eyes narrowing in frustration at her own carelessness. 

“Honey, if you didn’t want me to know then why did you think making out in the closet was any better than talking about this girl non stop for months?” 

“You talk about me that much?” Your gaze settled on Veronica and a grin painted your lips when a rosy tint bloomed on her cheeks. 

“Oh, shut up,” she whispered bashfully. 

And that was how Veronica Lodge stumbled out of the closet the same night she first said I love you