#I'm bitter about most of this tbh

[raiiny-bay]

here are some outtakes from my last edit btw

[yangjeongin]

i swear i love lovestay so much but i will either cry or come close to tears Every time i hear it i have  problems

[bbygirlverstappen]

this fandom is genuinely very unwelcoming towards writers

[eissaphir]

A couple years ago, I wrote a YouTube comment and somebody replied "AHAHAH THIS READS LIKE A TUMBLR POST LMAOOO"

I haven't been the same since.

[sluts4matt]

DISTRACTION

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: the two of you had been best friends for years. right after you get out of a bad relationship, chris is the first to be of distraction.

warnings: SMUT, mentions of a toxic relationship, swearing, making out, oral (female revieving), fingering, pet names (lots of the use of ma), praising, degrading, p in v, dumbification, dacryphilia, spanking, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, backshots, ROUGHHH, all together just filth tbh.

words count: 2724

author's note: stop this is so filthy, like, whewy 😅. please don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything listed above. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

(loosely based on this song)

"he fucking cheated on you?" chris looked down at you, his eyes fuming. you had walked into his bedroom, a bitter laugh leaving your lips as you uttered the words you didn't truly want to admit.

"has been for fucking months, god i'm so fucking stupid," you mutter, your small hands sliding over your face in frustration. "it was right under my nose too, like how the fuck did I not realize."

you were rambling now, and chris could sense it.

he could feel your frustration, the sadness you were trying to repress. to him you were an open book, had been since the age of nine. and right now, he knew that the last thing you wanted was to be pitied, and so that was exactly what he was not going to do.

"hey, c'mere," chris spoke up, his hand grabbing your wrist and tugging you closer to his body. it ended with your legs being thrown over either side of his, straddling his lap.

you could feel his hardening dick under you, the way he shifted you around on his lap to get comfortable, but you didn't care. chris had always been like this, had always made it obvious that he thought you were attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the same.

the two of you were close. probably some of the most important people in each other's lives, and while the sexual tension had never really been addressed, it was there. it was definitely fucking there. you could feel him, his eyes roaming over your face, as if he was waiting for you to look him in the eyes.

you let your arms wrap around his neck, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the position the two of you were in. the way his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you impossibly closer, and the way his nose nuzzled against the spot where your jaw met your neck.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart," chris finally whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin, causing you to shiver. "he didn't deserve you."

his lips kept trailing along your skin, making your mind go foggy. you couldn't think about anything else other than his lips and the way they were making you feel.

"what are you doing, chris?" you asked him, a small giggle leaving your lips. “making my girl feel better, with a distraction,” chris whispered, and you swore you felt his teeth scrape along your skin.

my girl.

the way the two words rolled off his tongue sent a chill through your entire body, and before you could even think, your hand was sliding through his hair, tugging him impossibly closer.

chris groaned, and he could feel his dick harden even more under you, a feeling that had you whining softly. he let his head fall back, looking up at you. "tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" his voice was a whisper, a plea almost.

and god, he didn't want to stop. the way his best friend was sat on his lap, practically begging for him, it made him feel so many things. but just because he didn’t want to didn’t mean he wouldn’t if that’s what she wanted.

your hands slid down his chest, stopping right at his belt. "i want this, christopher." chris groaned. he hated when you used his full name, and you knew that. and that was exactly why you said it, a small smile tugging on your lips.

"say it again," chris said, his hands gripping onto your thighs. his fingers were digging into your skin, sure to leave bruises, but the thought made you moan. "i want this, christopher," you whispered, letting his name roll off your tongue as you grinded against his dick.

chris didn't even hesitate to grab your shirt, pulling it over your head, tossing it behind him. he flipped the two of you over, pinning your wrist above your head. "keep them there for me, angel."

the nickname made you shiver, and you nodded. he sat up on his knees, his fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans, before finally tugging them down your legs. he could see the wet spot on your panties, his hands running over your clothed cunt. "already soaked, baby."

he leaned down, attaching his lips to yours. his hands continued to run over the soft material, before he was ripping the fabric, a loud gasp leaving your lips. chris smirked, his lips still pressed against yours, kissing you hard and deep. he let his hand slide up your body, his finger wrapping around your throat, and squeezing.

"you're mine," chris growled, and you whimpered. "always been yours, chris." he smiled, letting his thumb run across your bottom lip. "that's right, huh, sweet girl,” he mumbled. his lips were trailing down your body, stopping when he reached your hips.

he bit the skin, hard, before licking the mark he left behind. the way your hands were gripping onto the bedsheets, knuckles turning white, only made chris smile. "do you think i can make you feel better than he ever did?" chris asked, his tone was cocky, and the thought of you saying no had him almost growling.

you could hear the anger in his voice, the jealousy. it turned you on even more, the thought of chris being jealous over you. "yes," you mumbled, your hips bucking up, desperately trying to find some type of friction. chris let out a chuckle, “so desperate for me, aren't you, princess?"

he kissed the inside of your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. "look at you, all needy for me," chris mumbled, his finger sliding through your folds, groaning at the amount of slick he felt.

he didn't even give you time to respond before he was burying his head in between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your clit, sucking it into his mouth.

"christopher!" you moaned out, your back arching off the bed. the hand that wasn't wrapped around your throat was rubbing up and down your thigh, as if he was comforting you.

"taste so good," chris muttered, his lips moving to your entrance, licking a stripe up, before shoving his tongue in. he fucked you with his tongue, moaning at the way you were grinding against his face.

you couldn't focus on anything other than the way his tongue was fucking into you, the way his nose was nudging against your clit. the coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you were sure you were about to come.

"chris, 'm gonna come," you whimpered, your hands reaching down, gripping his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. your hips grinned against his face, chasing the pleasure he was giving you.

chris could feel how close you were, the way your walls were fluttering around his tongue, and he could tell that you were trying to keep him close. "go ahead, sweetheart, come for me," he said, his words muffled. that was all it took for you to come, a loud moan leaving your lips, his name falling from them.

chris licked up everything you had to offer him, not wasting a single drop. his eyes were trained on your face, the way you were panting, trying to catch your breath. chris smiled, his lips trailing back up your body, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could. he finally reached your lips, connecting his own with yours.

you could taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought made you moan, a sound that was swallowed by chris' lips. his hand had left your throat, his fingers replacing his tongue. he easily slid two fingers into your cunt, your slickness allowing him to do so. you moaned into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close.

chris smiled against your lips, his fingers thrusting into you fast and hard, and it wasn't long before he was adding a third. you were already sensitive, your previous orgasm having barely settled, but you could feel another building, and it wasn't going to take long.

"gonna come again for me again, ma?" chris whispered, and you nodded your head, whines leaving your lips. "so pretty for me." his fingers were working quickly, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit, his eyes watching as your face scrunched up. "come for me, baby."

it was as if his words were all you needed, and you were coming for the second time. your nails were digging into his skin, and you were sure you were drawing blood, but chris didn't seem to care.

"so good, princess," chris mumbled, his fingers slowly moving out of your cunt, bringing them to your mouth. “wanna taste yourself?” you opened your mouth, letting him shove his fingers in. you moaned, sucking your own slick off of his fingers, and the way chris was looking at you made your brain go fuzzy.

he pulled his fingers out, and he could see the glossy look in your eyes. "you good?" he asked, his hands holding the side of your face. you nodded, leaning into his touch. "mhm."

he chuckled, before flipping the two of you back over, so that he was on his back, and you were straddling him. "want you to ride me, angel." you slid down his lap slightly, your hands going to undo his belt. "take off your clothes, chris."

he didn't hesitate, quickly taking his shirt off. the sight of him shirtless had your mouth watering, but you didn't have time to admire it.

he lifted his hips, letting you pull his jeans and boxers down. you could see his cock, and fuck. it was big, and thick, and you weren't even sure you'd be able to take all of him.

"c'mon, baby. let me see how pretty you are on my cock," chris groaned, and his words had you moaning. you lifted yourself up, letting him line himself up with your entrance. "i'll go slow, angel."

he pushed you down, his hands on your hips guiding you. the stretch burned, and it took everything in you not to whimper. "fuck," chris cursed, his head falling back. his hands were gripping onto your hips so hard, his nails digging into your skin.

you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but once you bottomed out, you were fine. he gave you time to adjust, looking at you for confirmation before he started moving. you nodded your head, and that was all he needed.

his hips started thrusting up, his movements slow and gentle, and his eyes were watching your face for any signs of discomfort.

"more," you muttered, and he complied, his hips thrusting harder, his pace picking up. "always wanted this," chris groaned, his fingers wrapping around your throat, pulling you down to connect his lips with yours.

you moaned into his mouth, his hips thrusting up into you. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and the way his cock was hitting your g spot had you seeing stars.

"fuck, fuck, please," you cried out, and the sound of your pleas had chris grunting. he moved one of his hands, letting it rest on your lower stomach, putting pressure on it, making him hit that spot even harder.

"feel so good," chris grunted, his grip tightening around your throat. "you like it when i choke you?" "yes, yes, love it," you whimpered, as tears fell down your cheeks.

the sight of his best friend crying above him because of how good he was making you feel had his hips thrusting harder, his hands grabbing at your body. he was sure his fingers were leaving bruises, and the thought had him growling.

"look so pretty taking my cock like a good little slut," chris grunted, and the dirty talk had you whining. "yeah? my baby likes being called a slut?" you nodded, a loud moan leaving your lips. "my pretty little slut."

he flipped the two of you over, chris hovering above you. he had a hand wrapped around your throat, his other hand resting beside your head. his lips were right against your ear, his voice low, growling.

his hips continued to drill into you, your eyes rolling back. you were barely able to form any thoughts, let alone sentences other than whimpers and whines.

"you feel so good, baby," chris grunted, and the way he was speaking made you moan. "gonna come," you cried out, the familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build. "i know, princess," he said, his hand moving to grip the bed sheets, his hips thrusting into you faster.

"fuck, please," you begged, with the way his hand was wrapped around your throat it had you seeing stars. the pleasure was intense, and chris could feel the way you were shaking, your walls fluttering around him.

"such a pretty little slut, crying for her best friend as he fucks her," he whispered, and the words were all you needed, sending you over the edge, your high washing over you. you came with a loud moan, the tears that were previously falling were now streaming down your face, the pleasure was overwhelming.

chris continued his brutal pace, his lips sucking marks into the sensitive skin of your neck. he pulled out flipping you over, "hands and knees, angel." he waited until you got into position before shoving himself back into you, both of you groaning. he let his hands wrap around your hair, pulling your head back.

his lips were attached to the spot between your neck and shoulder, his hips moving impossibly faster. the feeling was so intense, you could barely breathe. "fuck, please, chris," you were mumble-whining, unable to form any coherent sentences. the feeling was too much, too overwhelming. "can't talk, ma?"

chris chuckled, and the sound made your eyes roll back. his fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, and you were sure that if he didn't have such a good grip on you, you would have collapsed by now. "my dumb little plaything, hmm?"

you whined, his words going straight to your cunt, causing you to clench around him. "already dripping again, hm? you like being my dumb little toy?"

you nodded, and he chuckled, letting go of your hair and pushing your face into the mattress. the change in angle had him hitting a different spot, and he was sure the sounds that were leaving your mouth were inhuman.

"christopher, chris, please," you were begging, and it was music to his ears. "what's wrong, princess?" he said, his hand rubbing your back as his thrusts slowed. "it's too much," you mumbled, and he could see the tears staining your face, the drool leaking out of the side of your mouth. "too much ma?"

you nodded, and his eyes widened.

"you want me to stop, princess?" chris said, and he was ready to pull out, when you shook your head. "want you to come," you whispered, and he smiled. "yeah, angel? my girl wants me to come in her tight little pussy?"

you nodded, and that was all it took for chris. his thrusts picked up, his fingers gripping the flesh of your hips. "gonna fill you up," chris grunted, his words going straight to your core, and suddenly you were coming once again.

you could feel his hot cum filling you up, and the way he was fucking into you had his seed leaking out of you. chris' head was resting on your back, and you were barely able to support the two of you, as your legs were shaking.

he pulled out, his hand swiping over your cunt, pushing his cum back into you. "keep it in, yeah?" he muttered, and the words made you shiver. chris laid on his back, pulling you to lay on his chest, his hands running up and down your body.

"you okay, angel?" chris asked, his eyes searching yours. he was worried he had pushed too far, and while it seemed like it, he didn't regret it. "yes, more than okay," you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

"good, good." there was a moment of silence, before he chris was breaking it.

"if i ever see that bastard, i'll fucking kill him."

[coff33andb00ks]

45 + lando caus i need some angst in my life rn

"Lies. Just lies."

driver + number = drabble <3

angst and lando go together like me and red flag men tbh

warnings: angst, mentions of mental health struggles, accusations of cheating, lando's not a good bf

He hasn't looked right lately. He hasn't looked right since...

Miami, really. Once the exuberance of his first win wore off he's been... Different.

At first you could ignore it. Lando prefers it that way - just ignore it until he's ready to talk about it. He'll always struggle with his mental health, you're aware of that, and over the course of your relationship you've grown accustomed to how he handles it. You may not always agree with how he does, but you can only stand by his side and offer support.

Rather, you would, if he'd let you.

"You don't have to come this weekend," he's saying as he packs up for the trip to Austria.

You blink,freezing in front of the closet. You know that most of the other girlfriends and wives don't go to that race - darling there's literally nothing to do? - but it's one of your favorite tracks. The scenery, the atmosphere... You love going there.

Lando knows this. And he doesn't want you to go.

"Heading straight home after the race, spend a couple days with the family," he continues, either not noticing or not caring that you're looking at him with annoyance and worry. Zipping up his suitcase, he pushes it to the floor and rolls his shoulders. "So I'll see you at mum's?"

Don't say it don't say it don't say it–

"Oh am I allowed to go there?" you ask, surprised at the bitter coldness in your tone. You can remember when snapping like that would have Lando overflowing with apologies and reassurances. Now, he barely flinches, and you feel dread chilling your heart.

"Go. Don't. It's whatever," he says, his jaw tense.

"Lando–"

"I get it, alright?" He grabs the hoodie lying on the bed and pulls it on. "You don't like my family anyway."

"What are you talking about? I love them," you insist.

He snorts, running his fingers through his hair. "Sure."

And you finally snap. Fuck waiting around for him to be ready to talk. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lando isn't meeting your eyes. "Nothing," he says, gathering his wallet and phones. "Just tired."

"For almost two months?" you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. "You've been like this since Miami–"

"Like what?" he asks, and you notice he's growing more tense.

You gesture aimlessly. "This," you whisper. "What happened?"

He opens his mouth and you hear his slow inhale. But instead of speaking, he snaps his mouth closed and shakes his head. "Nothing. I'm just stressed, okay?"

The words slipped out before you could stop them. "Did you cheat on me?"

"Babe no, of course not. I'm just... Tired."

"Not too tired to go out every weekend."

"So I can't have any fun?" he asks, rolling his eyes.

"Lando, we–" You stop when you see him grabbing the handle of his suitcase. "Lan–"

"I gotta go. I'll see you in England. Or not."

"We promised we'd talk about problems, Lando," you say, following him from the bedroom. "You said–"

"Lies. Just lies." He slaps a cap onto his head. "Because neither of us wants the truth do we?"

And with that, he leaves, the slam of the door echoing in the apartment.

[ccuniculusmolestus]

one thing the tsh fandom will do is constantly overlook the significance and also implications of henry and bunny's friendship in favor of relationships like henry and camilla. (and these were all realizations i had while talking to a friend so-)

we never see Bunny directly break down. well, we never see anything period because we're looking through Richard's eyes, and Richard never sees Bunny upset. I don't mean the upset where he's being mean or being a drunk in his dorm, I mean the kind of upset where he's sobbing and yelling out insults and threats and wrestling with Henry on the floor of their palazzo. I'm talking the kind of upset where he's screaming at Henry to stop touching him while crying in his bed.

We only ever hear that fight, and the other one in Rome we just get to hear of it. None of the others ever saw Bunny in that state, and I doubt they knew how the situation even arose. Only Henry did.

Only you know the way that I break.

And matter of fact, nobody saw Henry genuinely angry too. Even when he was dealing with Charles, he wasn't pissed per se, he was just annoyed and more ready to commit his third murder. I can't remember a scene where Henry genuinely loses it with someone he knows well (so, none of his friends). We only hear of him losing his shit with Bunny EXCEPT for the scene with Judy.

You push my buttons in a way nobody else can.

You know that makes me think, again, that him losing his shit at the party had less to do with Judy and more to do with Bunny. Think about it. Why would they be at a party where Bunny is nowhere to be seen? Why wouldn't Bunny, a party animal, be there with them? You'd think he might have invited the others, or at least heard of their intent to go and wanted to join them- but he just wasn't there. Why? What made the perfectly composed, stoic Henry lose his shit over something that, characteristically, shouldn't even annoy him? Who was later established to be the only thing in Henry's life capable of making him snap to the point of losing all self-control and resorting to violence?

That's right.

Bunny.

In every other case of aggressive, intentional, sober violence displayed by Henry, Bunny is the cause, on the receiving end, both times.

Henry and Bunny knew each other too much, way too much, and I'm tired of pretending theirs was not perhaps the most significant relationship in this story. Put aside the fact that the story is literally DRIVEN by them, put aside even the fact that they both are the only ones to die at the end (too much symbolism here kms), but their relationship genuinely is so fucked up and heavy it leaves more questions the more you think about them. So no, I don't think "Camilla was the only one who saw Henry for who he was" just because she was the recipient of his occasional smiles, because Henry was not just the gentle-giant she got to see. Neither do I believe "Richard was on the same frequency as Henry" because they had a shitty childhood (tbh all of them probably did?) and because Henry saved his ass from freezing. Henry was more so his rage and the anger he tried to keep sealed with the rest of himself, a destructive force trying desperately to reign himself in. Yes, he was not a bad person per se, but he was, like Bunny, a ticking time bomb (albeit a much more destructive one).

But even despite the anger and bitterness that later poisoned their relationship, I sometimes like to think of them whilst keeping in mind the fact that Bunny was the only one who could make Henry laugh. And Henry was the only one Bunny directly told about his past/home life. I think of them as freshmen, with Bunny's hair catching the sunlight in his lazy curls as his eyes crinkle and his tone rears back in preparation for a joke Henry doesn't see coming. And Henry, awkward in his detachment, with his nose in a book, trying to keep his lips from quivering up as the awful, stupid joke registers, and then failing to keep the chuckle from slipping through when Bunny's stupidly expectant face wriggles its eyebrows at him.

They were soulmates before they were friends.

And they were friends before they were enemies

[soulsmashers]

          it  wasn’t  too  often  that  fiore  actually  drove  himself,  mostly  because  he  really  wasn’t  the  best  driver  (  unfortunately,  the  ‘gays  can’t  drive’  definitely  applied  to  him  ).  typically  his  cousin  did  the  honors  or  he  got  uber  after  uber  despite  having  a  very  decent  (  luxury  )  car  himself.  he  just  found  it  pointless  if  someone  else  could  do  it  for  him,  but  this  time  around,  he  was  bored  and  a  little  bit  stoned  and  went  on  a  joyride.  he  didn’t  have  a  specific  destination  in  mind,  just  stopped  for  some  matcha  and  was  probably  going  to  head  back  to  the  hotel  he  was  currently  staying  at  until  he  saw  a  seemingly  innocent  bystander  trying  to  hitch  a  ride.  normally,  he  wouldn’t  stop  at  all  for  anyone,  but  there  was  something  almost  alluring  about  him  that  caused  fiore  to  come  to  a  halt.  maybe  it  was  simply  the  joint  he  had  smoked  earlier  or  maybe  he  stopped  out  of  pure  boredom,  but  the  point  was,  he  stopped  anyway.

          “well,  this  car  is  gonna  head  back  to  new  york  early  tomorrow,  so  i  figured  why  not,  you  know?  where  you’re  headed  to  is  a  lot  closer.”  he  was  clearly  not  from  around  here.  his  aura  screamed  rich  bitch  upper  east  side  guy  starting  from  the  nonexistent  southern  accent  and  ending  in  the  clothes  he  was  wearing.  fiore  was  really  only  down  here  on  a  road  trip  with  his  cousin  and  a  few  other  friends,  nothing  big.  they  had  gotten  back  from  florida  and  were  making  their  way  back  up  again,  stopping  at  random  hotels  when  need  be.  he  lets  out  a  mindless  chuckle,  baby  blue  eyes  focusing  on  the  road  in  front  of  him.  “probably  not.”

          the  males  next  actions  prove  why  a  ton  of  people  wouldn’t  dare  to  stop  for  a  hitchhiker.  it  happens  all  too  quickly,  the  italian  male  clearly  feeling  a  sharp  knife  pressing  against  his  neck,  all  while  the  other  forces  him  to  step  on  the  gas.  “what  in  the  god  damn  fuck  is  your  problem?!”  not  the  reaction  you  would  expect  from  someone  who  was  currently  being  held  at  knife  point.  “have  you  lost  the  fucking  plot?  are  you  insane?  you’re  telling  me  you  don’t  want  attention  from  cops  yet  you’re  forcing  me  to  press  on  the  gas  and  exceed  the  speed  limit?  you  really  think  that’s  the  most  inconspicuous  way  to  go  unnoticed?  you’re  the  dumbest  criminal  i’ve  ever  fucking  seen!”  he  wasn’t  being  smart  right  now,  like…  at  all.  despite  his  insults,  he  was  so  damn  nervous.  his  heart  was  racing  inside  his  chest,  the  idea  of  going  out  like this causing  his  eyes  to  water.  fiore  has  never  been  in  a  situation  like  this  and  he  never  knew  or  cared  to  think  about  the  reaction  he  would  have  if  he  ever  was,  but  apparently,  it  would  be  to  talk  shit  until  the  bitter  end.  if  he  was  going  to  get  murdered,  this  man  would  hear  him  run  his  mouth  like  no  tomorrow.  “yes,  i  understand,  you  fucking  moron.  do  you  understand?  how  the  hell  do  you  expect  me  to  not  drive  off  the  road  when  you’re  forcing  me  to  press  the  gas  and  putting  a  god  damn  knife  against  my  neck?!  i  swear  to  god,  if  i  make  it  out  of  this  car  ride  alive,  i’m  stabbing  you  first!”  with  that,  his  voice  broke  at  the  last  two  words,  tears  falling  down  his  cheeks,  his  bottom  lip  trembling  as  his  grip  on  the  steering  wheel  tightened,  his  face  turning  red  with  a  mix  of  emotions,  but  fear  and  anger  were  probably  the  main  two.  “i’m  too  pretty  to  get  murdered  by  a  sloppy,  unprepared  hillbilly  like  you,  and  in  alabama…  of  all  fucking  places!”

character / blair availability / m, f, nb story / blair is a satan-worshipping serial killer that's traveling the open road after escaping law enforcement in his hometown. hitchhiking across the southern united states, your muse has just picked him up off the side of the highway for some reason or another. cat-and-mouse fun ensues. setting / a lonely highway in the south, likely texas or alabama!

whoops! turns out when you murder people all over town, you might just get caught. that was the only reason blair was even wandering the southern highways. he made it out of his hometown of robichaux, louisiana by the skin of his teeth, so close to being arrested. luckily, small town sheriffs were stupid pretty much all across the board. so he went from one town to the next, hitchhiking along quiet state routes, and tried to indulge in his hobby as often as possible. sitting in the passenger seat of the stranger’s car, blair held the most polite, gentlemanly smile possible—he had a lot of practice, twenty-seven years of being a good ol’ boy before he finally learned the joys of death. it was all so easy for him. it sometimes took awhile, but inevitably, someone would give him a ride.

“i really do appreciate it, y'know. so many people drove right on by and didn’t even give me a glance.” blair appeared truly grateful, and he was in his own way. his right hand was in his jeans’ pocket, fingering the handle of his switchblade, twitching with anticipation. he knew he didn’t look like much, but he was strong. and quick. the act of murder was so kinetic and exhausting but blair could do it forever. that’s why he liked to tempt fate. it had been months since he started, and they never even came close to catching him since he left robichaux. kind of boring, honestly. blair became sloppier with each kill because he thought he was a god. the lack of capture proved it to him. even his victims weren’t much of a challenge. he started out with the weak, then advanced to stronger prey. he started in the shadows, then became more blatant. he still liked the weak and the shadows, but they just tided him over. “i guess most people wouldn’t take the risk of pickin’ up a stranger, eh?”

even though he was able to keep up small talk for longer than he cared to, his patience was running thin. he retained his smile as he brought the knife out of his pocket. the blade flipped out. he was still smiling. ���guess you ain’t too smart then.” quickly, he pressed the blade against their neck and used his other hand to press onto their knee, forcing their foot onto the gas with his ironlike grip. “now, don’t try nothin’. this ain’t my first rodeo, y'know? don’t try to drive the car off the road or push me out the door. don’t speed to get the attention of some police cruiser. those are old tricks and i’m bored of ‘em, you understand? say you understand.”

[lotusarchon]

you should know better than to ask a lady her age (nezha x reader)

content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), reader is a goddess and has tamayo vibes, nezha is nezha just more feral, mild age gap (both are adults on their first meeting + reader appears in her late twenties and nezha between 24-25 > author has no idea what counts as early/late twenties), all fluff and wholesome stuff, swooning nezha, nezha bullies mk once and wukong multiple times (biggest nezha opp), li jing is his own warning tbh

author's notes: demon slayer x lmk crossover when?

Meeting you was a dream Nezha could never want to forget. It was one of his life's greatest mistakes, and yet for once in his life, it was one he held no regrets for. Not one bit, when the feelings he held for you were so pure and filled with nothing but the utmost passion. To him, you meant the world, and perhaps more.

“Nezha, is it?” Soft hands run through his hair, undoing the messy braids he'd struggled to tie just this morning. “An interesting name for a god like him.”

“Does it matter?” Above him, his father crosses his arm. “Can you heal him, or not?”

The soft voice sighs melancholy. It reminds him of a lullaby, sung to him by a distant voice during a thunderstorm. The hands that thread through his hair still, and the warmth spreads through his body. Gentle fingers press into his scalp, massaging the tender skin.

Then, there is silence.

“That's it?” Li Jing's bitter voice breaks the silence. “That's all?”

“I must remind you, my lord, that this humble servant is not as powerful as her elders.” The hands in his hair gently rub a pattern. “And she has done her best for this lotus prince. All that remains now is for him to rest and allow his body to heal on its own.”

He feels fine, though. Whatever this stranger had done, his body has never felt more alive. It was opposite feeling he had felt before, when Taiyi had restored him.

His father ‘tsks’ angrily. “He'll be fine. He's not some child to rest at every interval.”

He anticipates whoever the stranger is to agree with him.

“Li Jing. You are correct that this is no child, but he is, theoretically, your son. And unless you imply your wife has made you wear a green hat, there is nothing in this world that can change the shared blood you two will have even until death. Have some sympathy, won't you?”

Ah. This was a strange feeling, having someone stand up to that prick of a father he had. Something warm fills his chest at the thought.

It's only when a door slams shut that Nezha dares to open his eyes. A kind woman is looking down at him, with nothing but a smile on her lips.

“Hello, Nezha.” You spoke his name so kindly, filled nothing but gentleness. “I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?”

A goddess. No, something else indeed.

Nezha had zero qualms dedicating his life's purpose to you. It's not like he had much to do anyway, and the Jade Emperor did not seem to mind his attachment to you so long as he did his duties. Li Jing complained often, and for all Nezha knew, most definitely still did, about this vulnerability he showed the goddess that healed him, but the Lotus Prince found that he did not give one fuck. Why should he care if his father had a stick up his ass about his relationship with the goddess that healed him? Lady (Name) held no complaints towards his presence, and thus, any other complaints from outsiders were ignored.

And you truly had nothing against Nezha's presence at your side. Since the day he had found himself lying on your lap, he seemed to hold some form of attachment and loyalty towards you. You put it off as his attempt at being grateful, even though you really didn't mind. Helping people was always one of the joys you held ever so dearly in your immortal life. Nezha really didn't need to express his gratefulness…

Though his company was nothing short of welcoming. The Lotus Prince, for all his grumpy attitude and sulky expressions, was a dear to be around, and you quite liked how his expression would always turn so adorably pink when you compliment his feats. One of your favorite pastimes with him was styling his hair, and tying colorful ribbons in them for the funs of it.

A few gods and immortals were surprised at the sight, but soon enough they learnt it was best not to ask. Less questions meant less injuries, since a certain prince did not like it when people swooned over your kindness.

You were pretty sure that was why so many patients senses a cold aura every visit, come to think of it. But maybe it was just your imagination and not the lotus prince glaring from the window.

Speaking of which, how did he managed to climb so high??

“Sun Wukong, is it?” You thanked Nezha for the tray that he offered you, your favorite blend of tea―a gift from Nezha's older brother, Jinzha―already made and poured into the fancy porcelain cups you favored so much. The tray was set down on the small table between yourself and your guests, and you offered a cup to each. “And your loyal protege, MK?”

The boy wearing the red bandanna nodded quickly, a noticeable blush on his cheeks. You put it off as excitement, since the moment he'd entered the celestial realm, he'd been gushing about the beauty of the place, top to bottom and back again. His mentor wasn't half as excited, grabbing him by the collar to stop him from running off to who knows where while he sipped on a cup. 

“I'm surprised you haven't heard of me,” Sun Wukong remarked, raising a brow at you. “You a new god or something?” When you nodded in confirmation, he blinked. “Ah, that explains it. Pretty sure I would've recognized a pretty face like yours.”

Next to you, Nezha's aura radiated annoyance. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you swore you could feel the god and monkey exchanging heated glares.

Weird.

“You flatter this servant too much,” you answered humbly and smiled. “But it is true that this is the first time I've even heard of you, Sun Wukong.”

“Ah? How old even are you?” MK questioned curiously.

“25 when she first achieved enlightenment. 457 years in mortal terms.” This time, Nezha was the one who spoke. You flashed him a grateful smile―because sadly, you truly kept no track of these things, not when it felt so pointless―but Wukong exchanged a weird look with his protege, especially when Nezha gave him a stink eye. “And you should know better than to ask a lady her age. It's disrespectful.”

“Don't be mean, he meant no harm―” You chided Nezha, gently patting his face. He leaned into your touch with a pleasant smile, and you shook your head at the sweet gesture. “And yes, I've lived long, but not as long as the Prince or Sun Wukong has. I'm afraid there are still many things I am duly unaware of.”

Sun Wukong snickered. “Some more than others, aye, Nezha?”

In response, a golden brick was thrown at the monkey's face. It hit him square on the face, and you gasped as Sun Wukong fell over, holding his face painfully. 

“Nezha!” You scolded the lotus prince and gather your robes to stand and examine the fallen Sage. Aside from the red spot on his forehead, he seemed fine, but still whined about the pain he was in. You glanced at Nezha's pouting expression. “That was not very polite! Don't do that again, understood?”

Nezha relented. “Yes, Lady (Name).” Even when angry she's still as beautiful as the morning sun.

Sun Wukong peeked an eye open. He caught the Lotus Prince's gaze from his position on your lap, and while you focused on soothing his pain, he winked.

Let's just say all hell broke loose after that, and Nezha and Sun Wukong owed you a new palace.

“Nyahaha.”

“Fuck you you stupid fucking cock slobbing whore!”

“Nezha!”

“Sorry, Lady (Name).”

“:3”

@lotusarchon , 23.09.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[douwatahima]

sorry to invoke james somerton again but i just watched his "apology" video and the way he addresses the criticism to his utena video has been scratching at my brain. for this who don't want to watch (which is so so fair), here's what he says:

"we ended up making a lot of videos we didn't want to make because people were asking for them and so there were a lot of videos we made that we didn't want to make and i think those videos are very clear on which ones those were. one of them never got officially released, it was released to patrons. some patrons have shared it to other people before all the videos went private and a lot of people hate the analysis nick and i did on it and so maybe it's good that that never got properly released because maybe it would have hurt people and i don't want that."

so, not directly saying he's talking about the utena video…but he's talking about the utena video lol. the thing that really gets me is like…look. full disclosure. i used to be subscribed to james somerton long before this whole thing blew up. i wasn't necessarily a big fan of his video style, but he talked about a lot of media i enjoy and i liked his analysis (that wasn't really his, but i didn't know that at the time) so i followed him.

the thing about him was he was always asking his followers for shows he should do videos on, especially anime, and then not long after making those posts he would post videos of "things to come" including like…every anime people suggested. not all of these shows ended getting videos made, but the point is james really set himself up as the queer anime video essayist; constantly promising videos about every show people told him they wanted.

and a lot of people loved that about him! a lot of the big names talking about anime on youtube are people doing season by season breakdowns or people talking about big shonen titles, and here was someone consistently pushing out long form analyses on less talked about shows! great! but to find out that not only was a lot of what he said plagiarized, but also that a lot videos were just shat out to appeal to his audience without any care or passion? just to get more views and more money on patreon? that's literally crazy when you're talking about something usually as involved as video essays.

on top of that i'm about 95% certain him doing an utena essay was a patreon tier goal (hence why that video was released there first). he literally heard queer anime fans asking him en masse for a video about one of the best queer anime of all time, decided to set it as a patreon goal, and then literally boxed himself into doing a video on an anime he didn't care about because he promised it to the people who payed him to be the "queer anime guy".

and the thing is he 100% didn't need to do that. he didn't need to "make a lot of videos he didn't want to make because people were asking for them". i follow a ton of video essayists who get requests for videos all the time! that doesn't mean they have to, or even should, make them if they're not passionate about the topic! video essays, when actually done well and with integrity, are hard work. that's why most good video essayists take a lot of time between videos! to think that this guy just took every possible suggestion, dangled them like carrots in front of his audience, that made a bunch of passionless, mediocre videos to solidify his station as the queer video essayist to watch is just…upsetting and disheartening tbh.

anyway if you want some actually good analysis of revolutionary girl utena, my favourites are "is revolutionary girl utena still relevant?" and "why revolutionary girl utena still slaps" by stushi, and "the shadow play gays" podcast (note: this podcast is run on the same feed as another podcast called "bitter jurors". you may have to scroll back a bit to find "shadow play gays", it started in 2021 if that helps, but i promise you it's worth it).

[eyelessfaces]

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here” 

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

[peace-hunter]

In your babyprime!Orion AU, I wonder what the high guard would do at the end of the movie... On one hand, they do agree with the newly named Megatron. On the other hand, Megatron isn't the prime, he's the prime's best friend (possibly more, but no one in the guard is willing to open this can of worms at the moment), and that's not how the chain of command works. And the prime (the only prime, the only prime left, the grown-up child they thought they would never see again) is staying in Iacon, and if they leave he'll be all alone. He won't have anyone to tell him about his long-gone siblings and history, or to guide him through paperwork and protocols. What if someone tries to assassinate the kid and they're not here to stop it?? Idk, maybe they'd be a bit fewer Decepticons in this AU.

oh my god you hit my favorite part of this au!!! hell yeah!!! conflicted loyalties my beloved <333

in this au not only does megatron have less decepticons than in canon, he also has more than a couple mech actively hunting him down and screaming for his blood. like. the moment he shot orion it was a sealed matter for them. the conflict right after sentinel's death is less about the decepticons destroying the city and more about them turning on each other as some try to protect megatron from being fucking torn apart by the rest.

but on the other hand i can see a good amount of the high guard being... disappointed by orion. they've waited 50 cycles for him to take his place as the last prime and enact revenge for his fallen siblings, for him to lead them into a new golden era, for him him to restore them to their former glory... and he isn't what they expected. he doesn't even remember them. and it's a big blow for more than a couple of them.

they expected him to be more... affected by all of it. more thirsty for justice. more driven to revenge.

they kind of expected him to be more like d-16.

but like you said, he's still their prime. he's still their last prime. he's still the little one they had to leave behind with little more than hope and prayer that he would be safe. and for some that's enough to decide they don't really care about anything else beyond finally being able to stand at his side like they should have for all those cycles.

also the idea of the high guards that stay telling orion about his siblings and helping him through the power transition and teaching him how to be a prime because they're all that's left from that time???? yeah i'm gonna fucking sob actually OTL

that's their little prime. they already left him behind once. how could they ever do it again.

and the ones that do, the ones that turned bitter and lost their faith in a god that let his children be slaughtered, the ones who would rather follow a mech who understands that might makes right... even them pull their shots when it comes to the prime. even when at war, even when in battle, they cannot bring themselves to aim to kill the one they once would've died to keep safe from any harm.

that being said, the high guards that do become autobots become incredibly over-protective of optimus and low-key are kept from the battlefield as much as possible, because the mere sight of those they consider traitors makes them incredibly murderous. like. they're still the mechs who would've become decepticons in another universe. they simply decided they cared more for optimus than anything else in this one.

i would say most of the high guard still become decepticons, even if maybe a little more conflicted about overthrowing the primacy than in canon, but more than a few stay behind. like. 80/20 maybe.

and i'm not really sure who i would make an autobot in this au tbh? like. deep down i kind of really want soundwave to stay with optimus, because 1) he's my favorite decepticon, 2) he was already pretty down to follow optimus' lead in canon and 3) him being loyal af is an integral part of his character, so him staying loyal to the very last prime he'd sworn to protect makes sense to me. but he is the quintessential decepticon. i'm pretty sure the entire faction would fall apart without him and i do want them to have a fighting chance even without their full numbers.

i don't know enough about shockwave to properly have an opinion on him, but i do think it would be funny to have him decide it is only logical to follow his prime, because tbh he did beat most of the high guard's ass when push came to shove. like. if might makes right, then optimus has shown he has plenty of might already. also i think it'd be hilarious to have optimus be constantly stressed about keeping shockwave from casually committing war crimes every other day. like. he's an autobot but he's not in it for the morality of it all lmao

and starscream... that would also be kinda funny i'm not gonna lie but i'm not sure i see him following optimus. i think he would be part of the ones that lost their faith on primus and therefore the primacy pretty early on after sentinel's betrayal, and while he wouldn't ever try to harm orion he doesn't really think a kid should have the reins of an entire planet either. why, he would probably do a better job himself.

i have entirely too many thoughts about this au as you can see!!! thank you for stirring up the brain-worms and i'm sorry for the messy ask (/▽＼)!!!

[diamondcitydarlin]

----LOTS OF SPOILERS FOR THE FILM BELOW BE AWARE---

The thing that's driving me kinda CRAZY about the sequel though is how perfectly it sets up a personal arc for Lydia to be intertwined with Beej's. Like I said in my reaction post after seeing the film last night, I feel like Lydia as a character doesn't really get much of an arc or a resolution by the end of the story, as most of the plot is focused on repairing her relationship with her daughter, with Delia, maybe even her ex-husband to a certain extent, and for as much as she's rid of someone actually preying on her (Rory) we have no reason to believe she's found inner peace or really discovered herself or isn't still constantly popping pills to help with the 'gift' of sight she still has to deal with. There's so much about her left unresolved that Tim is either going to have to make another film about or I will have to fanfic about. But again, what's also fascinating is the way the beats of Lydia's story become tangled up with Beej's by the end of this, and also the ambiguous suggestion that there might be some kind of red string of fate linking them together across life and death and centuries (my kingdom for Beej saying "I've crossed oceans of time to find you" in a deep sexy Dracula voice and Lydia being like "plz shut the fuck up" LMAO)

Like, the 'psychic connection'. The thing that makes Lydia able to see and interact with Beej in places other than the house/model in Winter River. At first I think we're led to believe these are genuine hallucinations she's having, but ofc that's debunked when Beej reveals he's aware of these sightings and has been participating in them on purpose. Does this suggest that their first marriage may have been binding in some way that didn't release him from death, but allowed him more range to manifest so long as he was attached to her? That's not really addressed or explained, but I feel like it opens the possibility of being a thing (as so many fanfics have had happen before, I LOVE it tbh)

Also, the parallel of them both having had predatory exes that tricked them into 'selling their souls' (one in a figurative sense, the other literally lmao). I'm honestly shocked more conclusions weren't drawn from that conspicuous parallel in the film itself, because it's VERY interesting. It seems almost to suggest they're both meant to safeguard each other's souls (which is why I'm still bitter we didn't get Lydia defending him from Delores, I think that would've been a nice follow up to Beej saving her from Rory, even if she was just doing it out of a sense of obligation).

And idk, on the whole I feel a lot of Lydia's personal struggle at this point in her life is defined by a need to feel 'normal'. I get how that can seem odd coming from the teen girl that confidently described herself as 'strange and unusual', but this is 30 years later, after several failed relationships, after becoming a mom and struggling with a strained relationship with her daughter because of her oddity, idk, I think it's a good case study on how society forces women to conform lest they be a bad daughter or a bad mom or a bad wife, etc, but I think it's obvious she's just fighting her 'strange and unusual' nature and the more she does that, the more difficult her life will be.

To me, that suggests her path to happiness has actually a lot to do with Beej, or very well could. Who else is going to understand her true nature the way he does? Who else is going to unashamedly encourage her to be balls to the wall weirdo like she REALLY is??? Who else can truly set her free that way??? Like I'm gnawing on wires here yall, if nothing else Tim gave us SO much fanfic material to work with on this one.

[di-kot-o-me]

Thoughts on Matt Gaetz and US Democracy...

"I'm a lawyer. Hearing that Trump nominated this pedophile thing to be the nation's attorney made my stomach hurt and it has not stopped hurting since.

I found myself in law school and I marveled at the ability of words and laws to shape justice. I was radicalized when I was supposed to be studying something but sat on my bed, my books ignored, transfixed watching Anita Hill explain why Clarence Thomas was a vile man unfit for the highest bench in the world.

I carry a copy of the Constitution in my purse. I have parts of the Declaration of Independence memorized. It sounds like poetry to me. It was written by a great mind (but a flawed man) writing a great idea.

America has always been an idea. (Aarons Sorkin said that in an episode of The West Wing, which I'm rewatching on HBO Max because I so need a real President now, and Jed Bartlet is better than most, even if fictional.) So far we have done a really shitty job of translating that idea into a reality. But we have never scrapped the idea.

But that's what we did on November 5. People are so offended by transsexuals, people with dark skin, women, and the cost of eggs being inflated by bird flu, that they're willing to give up on the idea. They went with a game show host and the prize he will award to America is hate, despair, racism, and fascism.

2016 Trump was hot garbage. But there were guardrails. He had a team that didn't so strongly resemble the Star Wars Cantina Band. There was Congress. There was SCOTUS. There was the fact he had to run for re-election. That's all gone. He outsourced the actual thinking about governing to the Heritage Foundation and they came up with a doozy of a plan. A fine blueprint for a Fourth Reich. AG Matt Gaetz will be a big part of that. But Trump's so chaotic he may go off script and make things even worse.

And I keep hearing in my head that line that Trump said. "I am your retribution." Trump is a man well acquainted with hate. His own siblings and parents despised him. He is thin-skinned, insecure, and bitter. And he spews out, without shame, who he hates. Taylor Swift, for pete's sake. Trump will give orders that hurt people he hates, and he will get actual pleasure, perhaps sexual pleasure, from watching people he hates suffer. There are names for those people. Biden. Obama. Harris. Clinton. You don't think they'll be exempt from retribution, do you? AG Gaetz will sign their death warrants.

There are no guardrails. Law should be a guardrail. Good lawyers should be a guardrail. That's all gone. Trump's at he head of the most powerful nation in the world, and he has nothing but hate as a motivation. He has no love for America or its people. It has provided him some good money and some adoration. But he's not capable of love, or honor, or even imagination. He is incapable of understanding the idea. He hasn't read the poetry. He doesn't have an American soul. I don't think he has a soul at all, TBH.

What does this mean? It means the Constitution in my purse is about to be a forgotten idea. It means that the fundamentals of this nation are about to be eviscerated. Things will be worse than we can imagine. People will die. Democracy will die. The nation will die. The idea will die. The poetry will die."

-PersimmonTea

[7ndipity]

Fights with them

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: what they would be like during fights/arguments

Warnings: a lot of angst, not proofread

A/N: after days of struggling to work(hello executive disfunction) I got this request, and my brain decided to jump back into gear and I wrote this in like an hour, as well as half of another request!? 🤷idk, I'm not gonna question it, I'm just glad I'm writing again.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Seokjin: as much as he bickers with the members, I think he has a rather avoidant personality when it comes to real conflict. He's said he allergic to seriousness, which can definitely become an issue if not careful, as it can one off as indifferent or dismissive. I think he usually ends up snapping and saying something short but pointed, and then walks away before things can escalate further. Always comes back all apologetic, and tries to work through things more calmly.

Yoongi: He's very upfront and sometimes blunt, and he's said before that he hates getting angry/fighting, so I think most issues would be resolved before they can turn into a full blown fight. But I also think he might have a tendency to ignore/avoid smaller issues until they build up. In the moment, he's not that loud, but he's very sharp with his words. Immediately regrets saying anything that might have hurt you afterwards. Definitely needs some time to himself to think and get his emotions under control, but would want to apologize and resolve everything as quickly as possible.

Hobi: He's almost to open too let a fight brew properly. He'll see it coming be like, "wait, let's step back and sort this out" before it gets out of hand. When they do happen though, he's loud only for a moment, and then the rest of the time, he's unnervingly quiet. As I said in his dating HCs, fights almost always culminate in tears because he can't stand y'all being upset with each other. Like, it causes him physical pain. Makes up the fastest out of all the members.

Namjoon: tbh, I think I would fight with him the most out of the members. He's soo stubborn and passive aggressive. Tries to dismiss the issue to de-escalate the situation, but that almost always backfires. Gets loud and slams things/doors, then gets mad at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. Definitely needs time to cool off before coming back to talk to you; could be an hour, could be three days, depends on the situation. But he does always come back to talk it out with you.

Jimin: I know several of the big fight stories involve him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he's overly combative, I just think that when he feels strongly about something, he won't back down, which can be a good thing, until it isn't. If it's a smaller argument, he'll just say something snappish and then move on like nothing happened, but in bigger fights, he can rival Joon on volumeand intensity. He can also hold a grudge like you wouldn't believe, so communication is a super important part of resolving the issue so nothing brews into bitterness.

Taehyung: He has a tendency to get very wrapped up in the moment and take things personally, so even small fights can snowball into something bigger if you're not careful. Yells and tries to put up a tough exterior, but starts to crack pretty quick and will want to leave before his other emotions show too much. Another crier(same). Ultimately, can't stand being away from you for too long, the type that will climb in bed and hold you, but not speak because the wounds are still fresh. Will probably talk it out with you the next morning.

Jungkook: He's such a emotional and overly reactive person, so I see fights being a common occurrence with him tbh. With smaller fights, he stays pretty calm, but when things escalate, he's all over the place. Definitely an angry crier. For some reason, I don't see him really yelling during fights? He's more like Hobi in that, if he does, it only happens in bursts and the rest of the time, his tone is just slightly raised(like when he scolds ppl during lives). Does not like to walk away and wants to sort things out then and there, even though that's probably not the best idea, but he doesn't want to let the tension drag on longer than it has to.

[inbabylontheywept]

Hi! Back again. I've been reading through your blog. You said in response to an ask about your username that you consider yourself to be "very religious, but not at all spiritual" and that just made me go "!!!!!!" because that sounds exactly how my husband (who is also autistic, and who also used to be Mormon) would describe himself. There are so, so many wonderful things about religion - about the community of it, and the routine of it, and the way it brings people together and builds a support system out of it - but he's never felt spiritual a day in his life. You mentioned in that same ask response that you got burned out on the exmormon subreddit bc they were too bitter. Me too, tbh. It's why I tend to describe myself as "post mormon" or "used to be mormon" instead of "ex mormon" since that seems so heavily associated with rage and bitterness. And like. I'm not denying that the Mormon church has done, and condoned, and continues to do, many awful awful things, many of which are why I left. But like. There's a lot that was and is good about that kind of community also, which I miss. I miss religion. (I don't miss doctrine)

Anyways this ask didn't have much of a purpose other than to say SAME HAT but SAME HAT

I just got tired of all the baggage tied to my name. I basically tried avoiding that stuff with my wife early on in the relationship, but on our second date we went to the Phoenix art gallery, and there's a room in it where the walls and ceiling are mirrors, and there are strand lights hanging down. To most people it's supposed to be like standing in space. But in a lot of Mormon temples, there's mirrors facing each other by the marriage altar to provide a sort of visio-spatial comparison of what going forward with someone forever looks like.

So from my cultural background, it was kind of like considering what it would be like to be married to someone on the second date, and I was so visibly flustered by the whole thing that I wound up explaining it to her on the way down the stairs to the basement level. And then it turned out that she'd grown up Mormon, but unlike me, where I left and dragged most of my family with me starting around age 15, her parents left around age 8, so all she had were some weird stories about Nephites and Lamanites.

She laughed and it took a lot of the weirdness out. She's great. It was actually really nice, to realize I was with someone who got the culture but never really got the doctrine.

Which is to say: Nice hat. Wink.