#Dream Sequence Records

[amplexadversary]

.

[hairtusk]

everytime i think about an american werewolf in london (1981) i'm transfixed by the idea of monstrous transformation as a metaphor for jewish masculinity following the holocaust ... but i'm too lazy to do anything about it

[addictsitter]

i refuse to believe the s4 kids do not have a groupchat where they crack jokes about how they should start a band or something esp after sue made all but kitty transfer out

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Daydream Review Shares Lush and Atmospheric "No Eternity"

New Audio: Daydream Review Shares Lush and Atmospheric "No Eternity" @daydreamreview @sidehustlerecs @bighasslemedia @leighgreaney

Elijah Montez is a Chicago-based singer/songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, frontman, and creative mastermind behind Daydream Review. After relocating from Austin to Chicago, Montez and Daydream Review began catching the attention of Chicago’s leading tastemakers and beyond with the release of 2020’s “Blossom” and 2021’s retro-tinged, self-titled debut EP. Last summer, the Chicago-based artist…

[trevlad-sounds]

Friday 18 August Mixtape 356 “Twin Starfish”

2023-08-18

Downtempo Space Synth Wednesdays, Fridays & Sundays. Support the artists and labels. Don't forget to tip so future shows can bloom.

The Future Sound Of London-Earth's Twin 00:00

Dave Clarkson-Tiny Lights (Magic in a Child's Eyes) 04:13

Dream Dolphin-The Genesis- Yoga (New Age Ambience) 06:25

Frederic & Olivier-Le vieux monsieur personne 12:55

Future Children-Jesus was an Anti-Christ Anarchist 17:13

Kh3rtis-False Profits 19:57

Panamint Manse-Umber 24:46

The Natural Yogurt Band-Colours 28:48

Pub-Summer 30:54

Cate Brooks-Hindsight 36:54

Twilight Sequence-What to Look for Outside 44:48

Castle If-Whale Watching 50:55

Dohnavúr-Majestic Arm (ft. Tegan Northwood) 54:28

Carbon Based Lifeforms-Starfish 57:26

[fangswbenefits]

Comfortable

Summary: Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Fluff. Aftercare. Oral sex. Pillow humping. Innuendo. Mentions of masturbation.

Word count: 3.3k

It's a wavering sequence of whimpers that catches Astarion's attention just as he arrives at camp after a late night hunt.

The blood on non thinking creatures seldom presents itself as a decent meal, but he finds it unfair to depend exclusively on you.

The boars in the outskirts of Baldur's Gate are delectable enough to blind his hunger for a few hours – maybe a full day, if need be.

The camp seems peaceful and quiet with everyone still catching some rest after in their respective tents, and as the pale moon glows up high in the dark blue sky, he notices the dawn isn't breaking for at least a few more hours.

Maybe he can indulge in a trance to ease his mind and body after feeding, even though it's not a dire necessity.

But it seems that the night has other plans reserved for him.

His steps are light and sure, following the crescendo of sounds that seems to come from near his tent.

He would recognise that voice anywhere.

You.

As he draws near, trying to make out the origin of said whimpers, he vaguely wonders if you're having a dream.

That is the most reasonable explanation.

But then he hears what resembles a muffled groan.

A nightmare?

Instinctively, an eyebrow quirks as he approaches your tent.

And then he freezes.

Even through the obvious failed attempt at reining yourself in, he knows exactly what he heard.

His name. Muffled and barely intelligible, but his name, nonetheless.

An amused smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him that you are indeed pleasuring yourself. Risky and unexpected, but beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Cheeky…

He could simply entertain this, and leave it to you to reach your peak on your own.

Unfortunately for him, he has just fed.

And unfortunately for you, he has every intention of interrupting your solo endeavour.

His usual cool body now flooded with the warmth and vigour that make it extremely easy not to succumb to your sweet and melodic whimpers.

As such, he tugs at the strings that hold both flaps together, successfully drawing a surprised gasp from you.

“You scared me!” 

He finds you propped up on one elbow before rushing to sit and pulling a blanket to cover yourself, a mortified look splattered across your face.

The sight in front of him is enough for the recently drunk blood to rush downwards at record speed. 

Predictable, but such is the nature of his body when it comes to you.

Flustered and quickened breaths. His senses are so sharp from the recent blood intake, that he can hear your heartbeat drumming fast in your chest.

By now, he knows you well enough.

So well, that he's sure he has just interrupted your climax.

The confirmation comes in the form of a low growl of frustration.

He almost feels sorry for you, but what crosses his mind is the offer of a moment of pleasure so great only he can provide.

“You were close.”

It isn't a question and he doesn't expect an answer.

But you're so visibly irritated that you scowl deeply. “Yes! Yes, I was. Thank you so much for interrupting.”

“My pleasure,” he retorts, knowing fully well he's about to set off a bomb if he doesn't choose his words carefully.

You have a temper he adores to test. He's used to dancing to your tune and knows exactly which strings to pull to get you riled up in ways that often lead to very enjoyable outcomes.

His cock welcomes your huff of annoyance with a faint twitch.

“Why didn’t you just… wait…” you almost cry out in sheer frustration.

He lets out a taunting laugh. “What, and miss out on all of the fun, darling?”

A dramatic pout settles your lips and it takes all of his self-control not to wipe it off your face with a kiss in an instant.

“How many did you take this time?”

It is a glaring taunt.

And your mouth drops open.

Maybe he should have eased his way in, considering the current predicament.

But the way your body is all flustered and heated from your own touch is enough to flare desire inside him. And whenever desire begins to swell inside him, the fine line between reason and pleasure begins to blur. 

Mostly because he knows he was the one on your mind when you had your fingers deep inside you.

Your eyes widen slowly, and you clutch the blanket closer to your lower half, still hiding the proof of your arousal from his prying eyes.

You don't reply at first, your pride keeping you silent.

But Astarion doesn't mind. In fact, he enjoys your resistance at first. Makes it all the more enjoyable when you finally give in.

“How many, darling?”

You frown, averting your eyes.

So stubborn…

His cock adores it.

“How many?” his tone is firmer this time and you slowly meet his eyes again.

“... two.”

He clicks his tongue, crouching before you. “Oh, darling…” 

Two fingers are not nearly enough to provide the fullness and stretch that only his cock can. But he appreciates your effort nonetheless.

It's quite adorable and enough to have his cock hardening even more.

Your fingers still glisten in the faint candlelight and he feels the sudden urge to have them in his mouth. He never tires of tasting you in more ways than one.

“You do not need to hide from me,” he says tenderly, but still not moving an inch. He wants you to feel comfortable enough under his gaze. “You've bared yourself to me many times, love.”

Still, you don't let go of the fabric, a slash of defiance crossing your face. “You took too long.”

Ah. “Did you miss me?”

You bite your lip, face softening as you nod twice.

And you were so desperate for him that you just couldn't wait?

Gods.

His cock stirs even more against his trousers at the silent realisation.

“And I am here now,” he says, dropping to his knees, as a wicked smile turns his lips. “So, allow me.”

He reaches out with his hand to tug at the fabric, silently looking for your permission.

A shaky sigh parts your lips and he spots a shiver as he pulls the blanket that keeps you from him.

His eyes drop to the sweet spot between your legs and he almost regrets having interrupted you.

Almost.

Your clit is so swollen it deliciously peeks from between your folds, parting them gently. It throbs faintly as he catches your clenching a few times, wetness dripping out.

After a moment, he manages to tear his gaze away, ignoring the twitches of protest from his cock.

He finds your half-hooded eyes. “May I?”

You hesitate at first, nearly pressing your thighs together, but he stops you with both hands on your knees, a reassuring grip that has you slowly but surely loosen up under his touch.

“You don't have to…”

No, he doesn't.

But he wants to.

In fact, he thinks he needs to.

He rubs circles along your flushed skin, wanting your full attention on him before he speaks, “I appreciate the concern, darling, but I'm impossibly hard and you look incredibly delectable.”

It's more than enough to have you yearning for more, as a surprise gasp parts your lips.

You finally nod, spreading your legs and leaning back as you settle on your elbows.

He offers a sly grin, lowering and positioning himself right where he craves to be.

But not before he eases some of the growing tension on his lower half. The blood coursing through his body is more of an inconvenience for now, and he's sure, under different circumstances, he'd have better control over this.

Or maybe not.

Maybe you're just that good for him.

You jerk slightly when his mouth draws near your slick folds.

“Wait.”

And he does, his concentration slightly shaken as he promptly scans your face for any cause for alarm.

“Just… don't leave afterwards.”

Don't leave–

Astarion's lips are so close to your clit, he has to pull back slightly so he can have a proper look at you, his hardened cock still straining against his undergarments.

“What do you mean?” he asks, perplexed. 

There is hesitance in your eyes. “You tend to leave after… like you don't want to be here with me.”

That sounds like a whiplash to him, because it is not true at all.

Your words take him by surprise  and he immediately worries he may have said or done something that could be interpreted as mixed signals.

“Darling, I–”

But you immediately shake your head. “If you can stay after… I'd appreciate it. Only you want to, of course,” you quickly add. “It doesn't feel right otherwise…”

It isn't a request. Nor a plea.

It's just what feels right.

He's done this many times to the point of instinct. It comes natural to him to please others. The aftermath, though, is something that he's also used to forgoing. The mess, the sweat, the fluids… the unnecessary and forced talk…

But you are different, aren't you?

You are not… the others.

And after all you've been through, he feels his mind nearly snap in half as he realises just how much he's still holding back with you.

Even something as simple as just staying still felt… tainted.

Slowly, he nods. 

And slowly, your lips turn into a tender smile that he's grown to adore beyond comprehension.

“I'll stay.”

You heave a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Astarion counters the impromptu detour with unmatched expertise, lowering his head and admiring just how eager your body is for him.

Before he drags his tongue along your folds, he slithers his hand down to reach for the front of his trousers, hurriedly undoing them.

It's his turn to sigh in relief as his cock is set free.

But now he misses the friction and the carpeted floor of your tent feels too rough.

His eyes roam around in search of something – anything – more comfortable.

And then he's caught off guard by your offer.

“Maybe this will help.”

A pillow.

He chuckles deviously, appreciating your creativity in moments such as these. Promptly, he takes it in his hand and positions it under him, his cock welcoming the soft surface.

“I adore that mind of yours,” he says cheekily.

You are about to voice a reply, but no word comes out when his tongue hits your entrance. 

Immediately, your hips buck and his smile never wavers.

He knows what you crave, but he will take his time even if you're already close to the edge.

After all, he's addicted to his devotion to you even if he never utters it out loud. He prefers his actions speak for themselves. Words are treacherous and deceiving. Actions speak louder.

And so he indulges in you. He indulges you, because that is what keeps him from reaching the frayed ends of his mind. 

You're what grounds him these days.

And he will ground you with him.

As such, he drags the tip along your folds, collecting your wetness and he only stops once it finds your clit.

A soft moan escapes your lips and he hopes you have it in you to keep it down so as to not wake the others. 

He locks eyes with you one last time. “Are you ready, darling?”

Your hips roll twice, but he knows you're not ready. You never are for the pleasure he offers to you so passionately. 

Another roll and he knows you're growing impatient, so he gives your clit a quick swipe of his tongue before he latches.

He doesn't begin suckling hard right away, as he needs to ensure he can steady you for what's to come. Both arms loop around your thighs and he allows his eyes to flutter shut, losing himself in you.

It amazes him how your body responds to him, and your hips try to find a desperate rhythm as if you're riding his cock.

The pillow under him provides enough friction for him to roll his own hips, eager to match your tempo.

He could feel the wetness drenching the fabric, but he can't bring himself to care.

Your hand finds his curls and he growls against your clit as you tug gently, but evidently craving more.

And more he gives you.

He's sucking more fiercely this time, taking his time to savour the swell in between his teeth. From this angle, he can feel your wetness coating his chin. He can't directly feel it, but he just knows you're clenching desperately around nothing.

Maybe he should take it slower.

Maybe he should pry you open with two of his fingers, even though you're wet enough to take a third one.

But the unexpected friction caused by the pillow is begging to edge him beyond belief.

Is it from the blood he drank? Is he just so ridiculously aroused? Why is your clit so swollen this time? Is it from his incessant suckles? 

His mind turns into haze and he decides he's not looking for any logical answers.

He simply allows his hips to move on their own accord, matching the face with each suckle.

“Astarion… Gods…” 

You're fortunate his mouth is kept busy, or he'd hurl a snarky reply. Gods have no place here. The delicacies of carnal bliss are reserved for those who tread the earth.

He's the only one who'd ever worship you, and you'd worship him right back, because that's how it's meant to be.

Precum drips from his tip at an alarming rate. He's too hard. He's too aroused. His body is seeking to be inside yours.

But he decided against it.

No.

He wants to see you unravel for him and in front of him.

His eyes open once again and he takes in the sight of your body undulating. Skin all flushed and eyes read to drop close as you near the precipice.

As always, his latch is impeccable. He never lets go and takes pride in leaving you dripping for him.

A few droplets run down his chin and dangle from it, bestowing upon him the most enticing silent praise he could ask for.

He knows you're close when your fingers close around his curls, desperately rocking your hips against him.

A low growl of approval rumbles in his chest and he's starting to struggle to keep his pace.

He has to find a way to still his hips before you reach your climax in fear you'll drag him along with you far too soon.

And so he does.

This time, he wants to see it.

He wants to see you as you come for him.

He's mostly perplexed that you found a way to muffle your moans, your shirt rolled up and captured in between your teeth, granting him the privileged view of your heaving breasts and hardened nipples.

Momentarily, his hips threaten to buck driven by pure instinct.

But he manages to hold back.

And when he's sure you're too far gone, head tilting back and legs shaking ever so slightly, does he unlatch from your clit.

He pulls back enough to witness the first sets of contractions course through your body. 

Wetness drips from his chin, and he can't tear his gaze from the mesmerising way your entrance clenches rhythmically before him.

He's felt those contractions many times. He is well aware of just how vicious and relentless they can be around his cock, never failing to draw every last drop of his cum deep inside you.

Your muffled cries and the way your hips still momentarily, are all he needs to get lost in his own pleasure again.

He props himself high enough to place his hips at the right angle, rolling them urgently against the soft fabric of the pillow.

He's so close… so deliciously close.

Your taste lingers on his tongue and the vision of you still writhing under him holds his gaze almost painfully.

Your fingers ease on his curls and he feels the familiar tightening of his balls warning him that he's about to reach the point of no return. 

It comes and overtakes his body so violently his mind blanks for a brief moment, as his mouth drops open.

He wants to groan and growl and hiss, but no sound comes out.

The friction is so overwhelming, he can't help but to lose balance, his lips finding your swollen clit once again.

And just like before, he latches instinctively and you try to jerk away from him, definitely being hit with a sting of oversensitivity. 

He comes undone, suckling on you harder than ever before.

Ropes of cum spill from him rhythmically, his own contractions taking over. He can feel the fabric underneath him drench with each thrust, and he vaguely wonders how much of it he still has left in him.

Your clit is now the only thing grounding him as he rides out his climax and, in the far corner of his hazy mind, he's thankful that you eased into him once again, granting him the solace he is seeking so desperately.

There's only so much he can withstand as his senses are flooded with overwhelming pleasure, and he finds himself unlatching and almost slumping against your lower abdomen.

He's spent.

Utterly spent.

He thinks he hears a tender giggle, but maybe it's simply his mind playing tricks on him.

With effort, he hoists himself along your body, collapsing, the side of his face resting against your stomach.

He wants to say something, but he's rendered silent by the aftershock of his climax.

And that's when he feels your fingers again, raking along his scalp and through unruly curls. 

“Are you leaving?”

He says nothing.

Your fingertips work their magic along his skin and he's sure you can lull him into a trance if you so wished. 

You're too powerful and he's too in love with you to care.

“Astarion.”

Your voice is low and sweet and he hums in return, arm wrapped around your waist.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

Who's he to deny you of it? Or himself?

He's sweaty and his cock drenched in cum and precum and you're a mess yourself. Hardly the epitome of romance.

Or maybe he's wrong because when you bring a soft piece of cloth to his temple and drag it along his face, he suddenly gets it.

He finally understands why you want him to stay.

Why it makes sense.

His eyes flutter shut as he basks in your tenderness and adoration. 

You hum a soft tune under your breath, cleaning him up.

Face and neck first.

“Can you shift higher?” you ask.

He realises your intentions and lifts his head to stare at you.

“You don't have to.”

All you do is offer him a smile. Your smile. “I want to. Allow me, lover.”

No one has ever taken care of him. No one has ever bothered to. Not until you. 

He silently does what you asked, too stunned to come up with a clever tease.

His eyes flutter shut in what comes close to embarrassment. For some reason, he feels more exposed than ever when you wrap the cloth around his cock.

“Tell me if it gets too much,” you say, your voice but a whisper.

He immediately shakes his head. “Not with you.”

A hiss parts his lips as you tenderly take care of him.

Astarion rests his head just above your breast and 

“Do you wish to talk?” he asks.

Your lips find their way through his damp curls, placing a kiss atop his head.

“Do you want to?”

He chuckles, feeling his cock soften in your hand – definitely a first. “I fear I'm too drained to do so.”

“Silence it is,” you say and he feels your warm breath against his skin.

Not just any silence.

Comfortable silence.

The rare type old romance books mention in passing and that many seek to no avail.

But he's found it because he's found you.

Masterlist

[elithemiar-blog]

I will not be writing the crack fic, sadly, I'm too deep figuring out four fics of a different fandom...and several original stories.

On 8/20/2021:

256 175

Cold case involving girl at a camp who's body was severed. Perp says following arrest, "I did it for her", overweight male. The home address changed from 256 to 175, was originally a 2 story home but the bottom half was covered with a pile of dirt to hide the horrors underneath. The one room had a secret trap door that led to the bottom portion of the house. It's where the staircase was.

Not the most vivid detailed dream recorded...but very similarly themed dreams for a whole year, almost twice every month after turning 26.

So yeah, I get insanely jealous of people who get fandom dreams...

My last vivid dream was 6/29/24...that was a normal (my kind of normal) dream, but I learned no more cosmic brownies before bed...or fruit snacks.

Last night I had two very very vivid and weird dreams I blame the famous fanfic dark matter for this

My dream is like watching it episode of a TV show I'm just a bystander watching what happens so the dream starts out with Peter Parker in civilian identity being kidnapped with Red Hood because he was just having a conversation with Red Hood in the middle of the night in crime alley So anyway they get kidnapped by this creepy cult that is going to sacrifice them Peter breaks free and immediately breaks Red Hood out of his restraints even though Red Hood could have done it himself he then turns to Red Hood in pure seriousness says "Quick! I need you to kill me Don't ask questions it's all part of the plan Just do it!" So Red Hood without hesitation shoots him in the chest Peter looks down at the bullet wound where it's bleeding looks up and smiles hysterically manic and says "Good start keep going!" Red Hood proceeds to kill Peter and he lays dead for about 3 seconds and then a green Rick and Morty desk desk Rick and Morty-esque portal spawns over his dead body and outcomes Ghost King Danny looking very very confused and very very distraught over Peter's dead body immediately resurrect him and asks what the hell happened Peter then, like a child, points to the cult and says "They did it" and Danny goes on a rampage while Red Hood and Peter look on in impressed horror with classic red and blue 3d movie theater glasses and popcorn and that's where the dream ends I don't know why I had this dream but I did

[txttletale]

Could you elaborate on why La Révacholière makes you cry? I'm not trying to be rude or anything, it's just that the track and the Insulindian Phasmid sequence overall made me feel a sense of complete awe with a twinge of existential horror and sadness, but nothing that would bring me to tears

to me there is nothing horrific about the phasmid -- there is sadness to it, for sure, there is a sens of melancholy about that scene but to me it is a scene of beautiful hope and wonder. the whole game the cryptozoologists are set up as these hopelessly deluded people, chasing after an impossible dream and resigned to failure after a long long history of it*. and then... it's there. the phasmid is real. the hope is rewarded.

and everything the phasmid says is... it's sad, yes, but it's also beautiful and kind. it feels "great, mute empathy". like, after an entire game of traipsing around martinaise, this bombed out ruin full of damaged, miserable people, after talking to the broken and hopeless dros, this is genuinely heartwrenching:

like. god fucking damn. the phasmid is a miracle. the phasmid is something that isn't meant to exist, but it does. the phasmid is kind of a light at the end of the tunnel, it is the realization of the prophecy SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL IS GOING TO HAPPEN. it is the emotional high point of the game for me. i genuinely cry every time i reach this scene.

*note that there is imo a pretty strong parallel between this hoping-against-hope and morrell's very sober understanding of the track record of cryptozoology with how the game depicts communism -- "we haven't stopped building love". this also makes it hit much harder for me--i think that the phasmid and the tower holding together serve similar roles, with the phasmid being more allegorical and broad while the tower is more directly a statement on communism and a better world being possible.

[todropscience]

THIS OCTOPUS IS HAVING A NIGHTMARE, SCIENTISTS BELIEVE.

Sleep is a fundamental biological function present in all vertebrates and most invertebrates. Octopuses are really complex animals, displaying active and inactive sleep states similar to those of vertebrates. In particular, octopuses have active sleep states during which they display sequences of camouflage patterns, while remaining relatively quiet and unresponsive to external stimuli. Some scientists have speculated that these states could be analogous to dreaming in mammals.

Now, researchers have recorder what is believing an octopuses having nightmare. During a month, researchers recorded a male Brazilian reef octopus (Octopus insularis), and they detected four brief episodes were identified during which the octopus abruptly emerged from sleep, detached itself from its sleep position, and engaged in antipredator behaviors, despite no predator was present. The longest of these episodes resembled the species-typical response to a predatory attack, suggesting that the animal may have been responding to a negative episodic memory while sleeping.

However, these are just conjectures, as it is hard to be sure, according to scientists, who claim that more studies are needed to ensure that they really are nightmares.

Gif from video: Eric Ramos et al

Reference:  Ramos et al., 2023. Abnormal behavioral episodes associated with sleep and quiescence in Octopus insularis: Possible nightmares in a cephalopod?. bioRxiv.

video can be seen here

[lostwords-found]

So that last post by Alesis Newman, the one that was locked by "BetterTheNew", was dated January 3 2018. Eight months before her previous post.

The police files on Dr Samuel Webber were dated April 3 2009. Eight months before the date in his journal.

Dr Samuel Webber murdered his ex and then was turned into a tree. We don't know what happened to Alesis Newman's ex before she turned herself into some kind of coral creature, but she was taking bereavement leave at the end. Out of death, something is trying to be born. Or reborn...

...Oh yeah, and let's not even go near this other (lonely, eye-encrusted) rabbithole, let alone down it:

Norris read Dr. Webber's case, about a man who murdered his lover rather than lose her and then was trapped alone in a walled garden, in denial about what he had done and eternally haunted by her voice, with only a small piece of himself remaining aware and perpetually terrified but unable to voice its fear. Cool! Yeah. That's definitely... that's definitely not significant or deeply upsetting in any way.

But Chester... Chester read Alesis Newman's case, about a woman who intentionally destroyed herself in the wake of a lover whom she saw as trying to change her into the person he wanted her to be--and replaced herself with something new and inhuman. Something that has her eyes.

And by post 13, using her paralysis computer, Alesis is writing with her eyes. So is that actually her writing? If it's not, when in that sequence of posts did it stop being her? What does "no longer her" actually mean in this context? Certainly, she's becoming something that the Alesis of eight months earlier, the Alesis of the immediately-deleted fourteenth post, would no longer identify with--if some part of her still existed.

Cool. Yeah. That's definitely not significant... or deeply upsetting... in any way.

OK but I said let's not go down that rabbithole, so let's forget I just said any of that and go back to talking about the post dates, yeah?

Yeah.

So, sometimes some of these cases have some interesting correspondences with TMA statements, so there might be something there. Alesis started that thread, opening up to everyone about her journey to creating a better her, on June 20, 2018. I wonder if there were any TMA statements dated June of 2018?

Case #0181206 (June 12, 2018)

Statement of unknown bystander regarding an encounter with The Archivist.

...Oh.

Okay, well, that's... interesting, but not necessarily meaningful. Let's try this: the last date in her transformation/replacement, the last point where maybe there was still something left of the original "her," was September 3, 2018. Anything interesting happen in TMA in September of 2018?

Case #0182509-A (September 25, 2018)

Original recording of events leading to the disappearances of Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Alice Tonner and Peter Lukas.

...Ah. Ha. Um. Well, that could also be an interesting coincidence. What about that deleted 14th post that was somehow eight months earlier, back in January? The one with an Alesis who still tried to cry out against the thing she was becoming?

There's nothing in January, but... oh... right.

Case #0170908 (August 7, 2017 )

Statement of Elias Bouchard, regarding the dreams of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, currently unresponsive.

...

Case #0181502 (February 15, 2018)

Statement of Oliver Banks, regarding his dreams and trying to run away. Statement given directly to Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, currently unresponsive.

...January of 2018, Jonathan Sims was in a coma. September of 2018, the Archivist received the final mark that would enable Jonah's ritual.

January through September of 2018 in the world of Protocol, something was trying to be born into a physical form, replacing Alesis Newman.

Cool, I say through gritted teeth. Yeah. That's definitely not significant, or deeply upsetting, in. any. way.

[sforzesco]

a rejected idea from the Second Triumvirate novel I keep writing

at one point, I wanted Antony's rescue of Octavian to mirror the execution of Antyllus but the event that inspired the whole idea (as recorded by Appian) is too fun for that kind of wholesale reinvention

Octavian with his friends and a few attendants came into the forum intending to intercede with the people and to show the unreasonableness of their complaints. As soon as he made his appearance they stoned him unmerci­fully, and they were not ashamed when they saw him enduring this treatment patiently, and offering himself to it, and even bleeding from wounds. When Antony learned what was going on he came with haste to his assistance. When the people saw him coming down the Via Sacra they did not throw stones at him, since he was in favour of a treaty with Pompeius, but they told him to go away. When he refused to do so they stoned him also. He called in a larger force of troops, who were outside the walls. As the people would not allow him even so to pass through, the soldiers divided right and left on either side of the street and the forum, and made their attack from the narrow lane, striking down those whom they met. The people could no longer find ready escape on account of the crowd, nor was there any way out of the forum. There was a scene of slaughter and wounds, while shrieks and groans sounded from the housetops. Antony made his way into the forum with difficulty, and snatched Octavian from the most manifest danger, in which he then was, and brought him safe to his house.

Appian, Civil War, 5.68

HOWEVER. I am DEEPLY enamored by the idea of Antony showing up as a rescuer but for a brief moment looks like such a threat (along with horrible foreshadowing visuals) that I decided to memorialize the original idea as an illustration before I throw it out and get to rewriting it (I’ll probably keep some version of the original thought in for a good old fashioned nightmare dream sequence tho)

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 1』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

Being in someone else’s dream looks strange. Seeing your own dreams in your mind’s eye makes you perceive it as high definition, but looking at this place, it’s like watching a movie shot with a lens covered in vaseline. Except for one house, and it's yard where our cast is trying to walk without falling over.

Vil is currently clinging onto the prefect, who had by now developed the skill of surviving whatever wringer life throws her in. Leona groans out of annoyance. It’s bad enough that he has to spend his precious sleeping time doing this fuckery and spending time with the fuckass lizard and the others when he could be cuddling with the prefect (he will never admit that).

“This must be where the dream is set.” Malleus wondered out loud, not turning around when Azul struggled to learn how to use his legs for the second time. Idia was sad that the dream world didn’t have phones to record this with. So was Jamil.

The group were not accompanied by Crowley, who had explained that “Someone needs to make sure that nothing goes wrong!” (Y/N) knew he was going to say that before he said it. Like precognition limited to one singular idiot.

“...certainly not a pleasant start to this. The headmage said we must go through everyone’s dreams… what a bother.” Azul had managed to conquer the task of standing without falling over. “Got something embarrassing to hide, octopunk? We’ll see yours eventually.” Leona was quick to take out his annoyance on Azul, to which he only rolled his eyes. What a brute.

(Y/N) looked at everyone. They seemed fine. She deliberately ignored Vil, who was still clinging onto her forearm despite being able to walk by now as evidenced when she went to check on Riddle, who was standing still, staring at the house. With silent horror. Vil’s face was quickly changed into a smug smile. “What’s wrong, Rosehearts?” His words didn’t match his tone, a patronizing mockery. Riddle wondered if magic could be used in the realm of dreams. He’d like to shut Vil up, and get out of here. He knew exactly what this dream was about.

Yet, Riddle didn’t answer. Instead, he blushed as he heard a car roll into the driveway. A cute little vintage car. (Y/N) looked as… she herself stepped out? She was wearing a snazzy suit with a fedora, and carrying a briefcase. Very fitting with the old-timey vibe this whole place was oozing. But why was she here?

Azul watched Riddle suffer with glee, excited at the prospect of a rival removing themselves from the chase of (Y/N)’s heart.

「Azul: Oho! Interesting!」

Idia was concerned at Azul’s widening smile. Hell no. He NEEDS to figure out how to stop this series of unskippable cutscenes or he will be COOKED.

Jamil looks at Dream (Y/N)’s face. It’s quite accurate, with the exception of an uncharacteristic smoldering look. Wait… Oh, this’ll be good.

Dream (Y/N) has somehow acquired a bunch of roses, painted red, and opens the door. The group peers inside. Riddle wishes to pass away. 

「Riddle: How can I offend Draconia as fast as possible so that he’ll smite me out of existence?」

“Welcome home, beloved!” (Y/N) watches as the Dream Riddle greets her dream counterpart with a kiss on the cheek. Dream (Y/N) presents him the bouquet, which he gladly takes.

It’s going to be a long night.

[limnsaber]

Stammi Vicino and the events of Yuri!!! On Ice are still mind boggling to me. Where’s that post about scarcely-fathomable level of romance.

Stammi Vicino is the first skating sequence in YOI. It is the first full skating routine we are presented with and it’s the choreography we see in the very first moments of the show. Lyrically, Stammi Vicino is about a man calling out for someone to hear him, speaking of intense loneliness and decrying love. The lyrics were written by the creator of YOI, Kubo Mitsurou, and translated into Italian for the composition.

In the first episode of the show, both Yuuri and Victor skate this routine individually. Victor skates it for Worlds, and Yuuri skates it because he wants to get his love for skating back.

Unbeknownst to him, Yuuri’s performance was recorded and uploaded to YouTube, and Victor comes into his life from there (directly because of Yuuri’s SV performance).

Victor sees Yuuri’s performance and comes to meet Yuuri, and that’s the inciting incident of the show. Both of their routines were a calling out into the darkness, and they were answered. (That’s love!) Through the show, we learn that both Victor and Yuuri were in bad places at the time of the routine of the first episode, and we see them grow wonderfully together in their relationship and as people through the series.

Stammi Vicino is also known as Hanarezu Ni Soba Ni Ite in Japanese, or Stay Close to Me. This line is said by both characters throughout the show, perhaps most significantly by Yuuri in their argument in the parking garage in EP 7 (a major turning point for their relationship).

The first time Yuuri sees Victor in the flashback, we get notes of Stammi Vicino underneath the dialogue.

This song is perhaps the musical foundation for the entire show! Every aspect of Victor and Yuuri’s relationship is writ in, from calling out into the darkness to finally coming together— represented in the closing routine of the show, Stammi Vicino: Duetto.

Yuuri skates Stammi Vicino once more as the show’s final episode closes, and this time Victor joins him for a pair skate. The final episode is one where they’ve finally fully come together — they agree on their future and on their future together. It’s a beautiful bookend to the story, and represents, as the skating routines always do, their characters and their relationship.

In Duetto, the verses about condemning love are gone and the piece has two singers instead of one. Verses in both the aria and duetto say “your hands, your legs / my hands, my legs / our heartbeats / are blending together,” referencing — and they were crazy for this honestly — Plato’s theory of soulmates. At the end of the piece, the singers “leave together”.

The creator, Kubo Mitsurou, has stated in the past very explicitly and publicly that Victor and Yuuri are soulmates. Canonically! The first time Yuuri sees Victor in the flashback, we get notes of Stammi Vicino underneath the dialogue. Stammi Vicino is the musical thread of Victor and Yuuri’s relationship.

They’re engaged!! To be married!!! They’re canonically soulmates!!!

The music in YOI is deeply intertwined with the storytelling. Each routine is uniquely representative of a character, who they are as person, and their journey. The relationship between Victor and Yuuri is the core of this show, and Stammi Vicino is perhaps the most important piece representative of their relationship.

Stammi Vicino, the aria and duetto, represent a story about loneliness and calling out for love and that call being answered. That’s the thesis of Yuri on Ice.

“There’s a place you just can’t reach unless you have a dream too big to bear alone. We call everything on the ice ‘love.’”

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: Daydream Review Shares Fuzzy "Dissolving"

New Audio: Daydream Review Shares Fuzzy "Dissolving" @daydreamreview @sidehustlerecs @bighasslemedia @leighgreaney

Chicago-based singer/songwriter, multi-instrumentalist Elijah Montez is the frontman and creative mastermind behind the rising psych pop project Daydream Review. After relocating from Austin to Chicago, Montez and Daydream Review began catching the attention of Chicago’s leading tastemakers and beyond with the release of 2020’s “Blossom” and 2021’s retro-tinged, self-titled debut EP. Last…

[wheenah]

“There was a formula within the band of, you know, girl power, or, ‘we don't like boys!’ – which we loved. But on my own it was more experimental, conceptually. The rulebook was thrown out the window of what a standard pop record should sound like,” she says. For “Angel of my Dreams”, she wanted to tap into her own experiences; not just that of a group, but hers. “It’s about my love-hate relationship with the music industry. I love being a pop star, but I also hate what comes with it. I feel like that song is, like, a three and a half minute version of my whole career squashed into a song. The opening sequence, to me, feels very like The X Factor, and then when the beat comes in it’s like I’ve been catapulted into the music industry. I wanted it to feel super theatrical. Almost like it's got three acts.”

JADE THIRLWALL for Polyester (Summer 2024).

[vilsoo]

prize counter girl ☆ twelve

➥ michael afton x camgirl!reader

you've been a camgirl for only a few months and everyone loves the content you post. when michael afton porn surfs to relieve his stress, he comes across your videos. the more he jerks off to your content, the more he's addicted. but it wasn't until, a few months later, he sees your familiar face as the new employee working at the prize counter.

chapter warnings. recorded masturbation, sex toys, squirting, sexual tension, wet dreams.

notes. the pov has been switched from michael’s pov to the reader’s pov for this chapter :) i’ll be doing this for some chapters in the future as well.

pcg materlist • previous • chapter thirteen

“I’ve been wanting to do this to you… for so fucking long…”

Nothing could compare to the arousal pounding in your pussy, the way Michael— your hot manager— settled right between your legs, kissing your clit right through your soaking panties. He’s definitely the type to enjoy giving pleasure, to want to make you feel good because he prioritizes your needs. Looking down and seeing him drizzling kisses on your skin, worshipping every inch of your body from between your thighs and up to your stomach, your chest, your neck, and then to your sweet lips.

He has your thighs resting on his shoulders as he licks your cunt, enjoying every flick of his tongue and the way he would suck and kiss on your clit. He was so greedy with it, devouring your pussy like it like his last meal on earth as he holds your thighs down for you to stop squirming. Stuffed right in between them that he could also suffocate; but you’d bet he’d love that.

“I always imagined you’d taste so good… Mm, you’re so sweet.”

“I can’t get enough of this pussy, baby.”

“I need you. Now. Stay right there and keep your fucking legs open for me.”

You were soaked, completely drenched that your arousal trailed down from your cunt and left a mark on your silk sheets. If he only knew how desperately your body ached and writhed for him every day and every night, with him and without him. Your thoughts become incoherent when his cock was brushing against your clit, the same cock that utterly surprised you during your first video chat together. Michael’s size was perfect, so perfect that every fraction of it imprinted in your mind. And you took the opportunity that one night in the supply closet to finally feel it in your hands, to even taste him and his sweet cum…

“Please, Michael. I really— I really need— I can’t…”

“You can’t what, pretty girl? What are you begging for, hm?”

All you could do was whine in such carnal heat. Who knew that a man like Michael could render you as a needy, deprived slut that’s good for nothing but a fuck? Going brainless when his cock is finally inside you, raking against your insides as if he was molding your cunt to hug his cock perfectly. He pulled out for a brief second, then slammed back inside your drenched pussy, fucking into you so good that your body was sinking into your mattress.

This was everything you ever wanted with him; one of your heated fantasies that comes and goes across your mind. It felt so real. Way too real.

But just as you were about to come, your eyes suddenly flung open to your darkened room. It took a few moments to adjust to reality, rapidly darting at every corner of your room in confusion and then glancing at your digital clock showing 3:21 AM. The silver moonshine was peaking through your blinds and the ambiance of late night city traffic could be heard.

You sat up and panted heavily, feeling your heart thundering in your chest. It took a few seconds to calm down, to finally breathe normally. But once your brain solidified the dream you just experienced, your heart began pounding in your chest again.

A wet dream.

A very vivid dream sequence of Michael, eating you out and having sex with you right on your own bed…

Suddenly your heart was not the only thing pounding right now. Once your brain processed the dream, you started ruminating on everything. This nocturnal emission was so intense that there could be a possibility you had an orgasm in your sleep. Not that that hasn’t happened before, but with Michael, the man you’re now dating that started to invade your dreams, your arousal stirred erratically. From such a hot and intense wet dream, you took your hand and chafed your finger against your panties. Just as you expected; soaked and drenched.

You can’t what, pretty girl? What are you begging for?

If only that were all real. If only Michael was here, hovering over you, dirty talking in your ear and fucking you so good. Sometimes you let your imagination get the best of you and think he’d be the type to dirty talk like that. In reality, you’re very fond of him; how adorable it was seeing him all flustered from you that he just couldn't stand it. This awakens a side of you of taking control; showing no mercy to him and teasing him so cruelly. So cruel that he would hate it and grow frustrated, gaining the ability to cascade his dominance over you.

Your needy pussy was aching, throbbing, pulsing, literally flexing over nothing from all these fantasies. And since you were wide awake and horny at 3AM, there’s no way in hell you could go back to sleep now. With your fingers slowly rubbing your clit, you needed to take care of this.

Sure, all your toys could definitely help. Your collection of various sex toys that you record yourself with could resolve this issue and make you come so fast that you’d pass out and fall right back to sleep. But what you really yearned for was Michael, who could not only take care of you and satiate your desires, but could make your nights feel less… lonely. Intimacy and connection was what you craved the most, after all.

You missed him. Dearly.

Now you’re horny, sad, and lonely at 3AM.

Without wasting any minute now, you reached over to the bottom drawer of your nightstand, finding the pink vibrating dildo hidden inside a dust-free pouch. Then you suddenly glance at your tripod with the ring light standing beside your body mirror; it didn’t cross your mind about recording yourself at all today. You just wanted to get your orgasm(s) and go right back to sleep. But taking advantage of the fact that Michael watches your content and enjoys them all, you wanted to show him exactly what he does to you.

As you set up your tripod, your phone, the pink lighting, and the angle, it felt as if you were recording this for Michael. Him, and only him buried in your mind, wanting to play with yourself just for him. Sure, your loyal followers and fans could get off to this, but they’ll never know how Michael was the lucky man in your mind tonight. They’ll never know that you were only showing how much of a desperate slut you were for him.

Panties to the side, you wanted this orgasm more than ever that you couldn’t waste time taking them off or even engaging in slow foreplay. You couldn’t even set up the app you use to make a livestream; instead you swiped straight to your phone camera from your lock screen and pressed record. If you managed to stay awake after making yourself come so hard multiple times tonight, you’d definitely upload this to your NSFW Twitter, which is also where Michael follows you on. Your eyes were cropped out the camera, only revealing your mouth, your bare breasts, and of course, your cunt.

There was no need for lube since it was so slick and soppy for your silicone dildo to rub on, your breath hitching from how sensitive you were. You raise your legs higher and spread them wider for the camera as you turn the vibration mode on. Shock waves of pleasure pulsed through you that your hips began to stutter and squirm. You couldn’t even contain your moans and whines, growing more desperate and urgent as your imagination runs wild replaying the dream.

Usually whenever you livestream with your sex toys, you always start off so slow and coy, just to tease and engage your viewers. But since you were so impatient, you immediately slide the vibrating dildo inside your soaking pussy and threw your head back, thrusting it faster and deeper inside you. Your eyes fell half-lidded, convulsing around your dildo hitting that sensitive spot that made you lose control over yourself. Letting your mind get taken over by the desperate sensation of Michael, craving for him to be the one fucking his thick cock inside of you until you’re knocked out of air.

You needed this, you needed him. And just by imagining your dildo as him fucking you, you tried so hard not to moan or scream his name on camera. You were so dizzy with desire, dizzy by the heated fantasies you so desperately wish to come true any moment now. As you thrusted the dildo faster and hearing the lewd sounds of your juices fill your room, you can feel your orgasm starting to blossom in your stomach and your walls clenching erratically.

That’s it, pretty girl. Fuck that pussy for me.

Make a mess all over yourself. Show how much of a slut you are for me.

Imagining him dirty talking and talking you through it had your orgasm rippling and pounding so intensely that you're crying two octaves higher than you're used to. You can hear yourself squelching, pushing out clear fluids that sent your mind in a haze. Coming so hard and fast over camera, even recording yourself squirting all over your dildo and on your sheets. All within the span of two and a half minutes.

After you caught your breath and drifted back to reality, you couldn’t help but grin at the camera like an eager little slut, even sliding a finger inside your cunt to taste yourself and then rapidly slapping the dildo on your cunt. You were a mess and it was all because of the thought of Michael. You’re wrecked, and he’s never even touched you yet. You ease another two fingers into your drooling cunt, the camera catching the glint of your arousal. So nasty, so filthy, so sloppy… just for him.

Before you could forget, you stopped recording and headed straight to your NSFW Twitter. Only cropping the last 40 seconds to post as a short clip, which is where you were fucking yourself hard and building up your orgasm until you made a hot mess of yourself. You even hinted in the caption that this was for Michael, hoping he was still awake right now to see it…

thinking of you xx

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The next day when you were in the supply closet restocking the candy for the prize counter, you were startled by Michael watching you with a small smirk on his face, his body slanting against the door frame like he was blocking you from getting out. Just the thought of him having his eyes on you even if you were completely unaware of his presence made your heart leap.

“Michael,” you chuckled nervously, this time struggling to make eye contact with him. Even if you tried your best to look him in the face, your stomach contorted, as if the butterflies were gutting you inside. You really couldn’t look him in the eyes after last night, after your dream…

He didn’t reply, which made the tension in the supply closet so thick it was impossible to slice. His eyes were the one searching for your face, slanting his head evoking such curiosity. You allowed him to step forward and draw closer just to invade your space, to make the gap between you two thinner. Your gaze lingers on his forearms revealed from his dress shirt sleeves rolled up, trailing up and finally holding meek eye contact with him.

The lust was pooling in your eyes that he could see it, he could sense it. Doe-eyed, slothful, and yearning… The epitome of submission. The glimmer in your eyes that makes him lose his mind, he felt inclined to lift your chin up with the crook of his index finger, and you instantly melted inside. He was so fine, you fought the urge to drop down on your knees and unbuckle his belt, tasting his cock again in the same fucking closet.

“Was that video you just posted… for me?” he mutters lowly, lips just barely brushing each other’s that if you were to lean in ever so slightly, you could just kiss him.

“…Maybe,” you coaxed, a small smile creeping in the corner of your lips. “Why, did you like it?”

He inhales sharply, as if he had pent up frustration from watching you fuck yourself silly and posting it, that the both of you knew so well that if you were anywhere else alone besides the pizzaplex, you’d get it on right now. Shamelessly tearing each other’s clothes off, feeling each other’s skin, desiring to recreate each forbidden, nasty fantasy that you both have for each other…

With his finger still holding your chin, you feel him take his thumb and ever so lightly brush it against your bottom lip. Involuntarily perching your mouth slightly open for him, he caresses your bottom lip with your thumb. The two of you were lost in your own worlds, lost in your addicting desires. The way you crave each other was so fervent, yet so dangerous because of how impossible it was to fight the intense urge everyday to not spend more time together.

Risking each other’s employment and breaking the fraternization policy every day, hell, even if you were fantasizing about each other you felt like you were bound to get fired anytime. But the two of you didn’t care— you were both slaves to each other’s temptations.

“I’d like it more… if you didn’t hold back on screaming my name.”

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2024. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost/share any of my works on any social media where minors have access.