#are really thoughtful in ways i did not expect idk

[charmed-asylum]

GIRRRRRL ONCE AGAIN IM SNAPPING MY DIVA FAN OUT AND SNAPPING MY GOD DAMM FINGER OOOH GIRL I WAS THINKING THE SAME THING LORD MMM MMMM MMM. Nah bc she ain’t that stupid and with Sarah and Wheezie. Lets me realistic give the bene of doubt . What if Ward wanted the land and dad like no whole time. Makes sense why Rafe ain’t moving in to her land but snatch her up and shit. Like if it’s a real thing why didn’t they discuss this with the will or something no out side party to approve of this. You want the land I’m giving you money which again if Ward was doing so much why didn’t they not sale the horse why did they not gain the staff of what not others had and can share if it in fact a REAL THING. Also Rafe you can’t be more idk non bull in a china house shit. What would few days even do huh nothing ain’t nothing but a shit on a cracker. Huh.

Let be realistic you know not only did Rafe lose his shit seeing her in her outfit but I bet even Ward did a 👀. “The long-sleeve, cropped sweater that featured a soft ruffle trim that barely grazed your midriff, paired with a high-waisted, flowing skirt that swayed with every step” I feel bad because again he manipulating her to do stuff but she justifies it with things like oh I like to do it anyway and a thought of what happens if I don’t and do. “ You certainly knew how to get dolled up, like Rafe said, and lucky for him, you liked makeup and clothes that made you feel breezy and feminine” even at the end all he doing is manipulating her I’m sorry but I’m adding the fact that yes they just met but out of all the girls OUT OF ALL OF THEM he choose her so someone some how she got pick he could go to a shit tone of people but he went to her and they just met how the fuck does Wheezie know shit about her and she don’t know shit about them two days two days she knew them. That’s it.

Again out girl may say she a bimbo bc she got bimbo ways but girl yesssss remember that shit .” When the room grew quiet, Rafe’s words rattled around in your head. You’d always done what your father had said, let him lead you in all aspects of your life, because you trusted him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how your father expected you to trust someone else. In the end, he was the reason you were here now.  He’d handed you over to someone else, like, what? A trade deal? The whole thing was completely unreal” I wonder what was the convo between John B and Rafe. Girl don’t be looking at his goods it’s a trap 🪤

Weee we meet wheezie omg thank you father of god huh use her girl use her a s shield. “ You liked her instantly “ When she was talking about what Sarah never had time to do I wonder if reader become that sister wheezie always wanted also what did they tell her regards the reader bc she acting like she should know a shit tone then she does. Does she know of anyone from the neighborhood.

AGAIN OUT GIRL AINT NO BLONDE HAIR BIMBO WOO WOO” It wasn’t urgent, but you had hoped to speak with Ward sooner rather than later. Part of you wanted to officially see the contract he’d wrote up with your father. Could two men really decide together that you should be married off? Was that still legal? “

Do you think the look Rafe gave reader was of possession more than shock or pleasure. Or his tone, Rafe’s voice cut through the growing tension, his tone firm, almost possessive. He makes me huh “ You won’t need to be over there, it’s no place for a woman “ Like 1st chapter I got better things to do now it’s MINE ERRRREREEEE WOOF WOOF 🐶

Sarah ain’t waiting for nothing lol

Rafe touch and firmness Man U need to go tho a year book and jerk off or something. Like damn he in that much of a rush I have to say even Ward should be a little worried like don’t this seem a little unstable and with Sarah calling bullshit even Wheezie shim in like damn .

Rafe sure as hell went from it’s a duty to know it’s about legacy with a puff out chest. Idk I feel he so calculated that what part real or not real it’s like an abusive man or a criminal trying to reason on why they do what they do. I just feel bad bc this reminds me of what she said in part one about family and shit he must of teacher diary ( something I can see him doing) once start talking about this bit I’m like yup he got the biggest breeding kink if I didn’t ever seen one. I’m just huh this shit got me getting high blood pleasure and I read it again I get mad again

rough hands, soft chains [2] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, DUBCON, loss of virginity, rafe is HUGE, breeding kink, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)

In which you meet your new family, the Camerons, and learn Rafe's true intentions.

word count: 5.1k

part one

rafe cameron masterlist

The spare outfit you’d packed for your failed escape attempt was a delicate two-piece set in white. The long-sleeve, cropped sweater that featured a soft ruffle trim that barely grazed your midriff, paired with a high-waisted, flowing skirt that swayed with every step. The lightweight fabric was a reflection of your usual preference for comfortable clothes. A handful of other items hung in the closet, clearly not yours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept whatever offering the Camerons had left for you.

After giving your reflection a look, you turned your attention your room. You floated over to the vanity, a rustic wooden display decorated with gold trinkets. You’d only packed the essentials, meaning you’d limited yourself to mascara, concealer, blush and lipgloss. You slid onto the matching stool decking to touch up your makeup, wiping away the smudged mascara and applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. Lip gloss always had a way of brightening your mood, even now. You certainly knew how to get dolled up, like Rafe said, and lucky for him, you liked makeup and clothes that made you feel breezy and feminine. 

When the room grew quiet, Rafe’s words rattled around in your head. You’d always done what your father had said, let him lead you in all aspects of your life, because you trusted him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how your father expected you to trust someone else. In the end, he was the reason you were here now.  He’d handed you over to someone else, like, what? A trade deal? The whole thing was completely unreal.

Something caught your attention outside the large windows. Rolling pastures stretched out before you, dotted with fences and patches of wildflowers swaying gently. Your gaze drifted toward the yard below. Rain trickled down slowly but you realized the figures moving in the distance, behind a tall white fence, were Juliet and John B. Making his way to the fence’s edge, now adorned in a work jacket and dark hat to protect from the rain, was Rafe. 

They were soon deep in conversation. Your eyes lingered on Rafe’s figure a little too long before shifting to Juliet, whose movements were graceful and unbothered. She had been alone for so long, your father had been forced to sell the other three horses your family owned years ago, and her care had undoubtedly suffered as your father’s health declined. Surely, the Camerons had at least a hundred horses and the resources to ensure Juliet was well cared for and had proper company. For a moment, you wondered if she might be happier here, happier than even you.

You were grateful for the distraction when a knock came at your door an hour later. You expected it to be Rafe, but a fleeting thought made you pause, would Rafe even bother knocking?

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find a dark-haired girl standing there, no older than fifteen. She was smiling, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Hey," she said, giving you a once-over with a playful look. "I’m Wheezie, Rafe’s little sister.”

So this was the other Cameron sibling? You smiled instinctively and offered your hand. "Oh, hi! I’m Y/N."

You blinked, studying her more carefully. She looked nothing like Rafe, and in that moment, she seemed almost... approachable. Less intimidating. Her warmth, however, felt almost out of place given the situation.

"I like your outfit," she said, her gaze scanning your clothes and makeup. "And your makeup. Ugh, I wish I could do mine like that. Sarah never has time to show me how."

“Sarah?” you asked, a little confused.

"My older sister," Wheezie explained, raising an eyebrow as if surprised. "Rafe’s never mentioned her?"

You shook your head, realizing she might think you'd known Rafe longer than just today. “Uh, no. He hasn’t.”

"Well, there’s three of us," Wheezie continued, her voice casual. "And Rose, our step-mom."

“Oh, okay,” You nodded, taking in all of the information. You weren’t at all used to meeting new people, “It’s nice to meet you. Can I ask you if Mr. Ward is home yet? I kinda need to speak with him.” 

Wheezie’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering in her eyes. “Him and Rose have been gone all day. Cattle auction, I think. They probably won’t be back until dinner.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. It wasn’t urgent, but you had hoped to speak with Ward sooner rather than later. Part of you wanted to officially see the contract he’d wrote up with your father. Could two men really decide together that you should be married off? Was that still legal? Wheezie, sensing your hesitation, brightened up and added, “I could show you around the house in the meantime.”

You thought about it for a second, then smiled. “Sure, that would be nice.”

Joining Wheezie out in the hallway, your tour began. Wheezie led you to Rafe’s room first, just beside yours. “He likes to keep it locked,” she said with a grin, “Or else I’d totally snoop around with you.”

You liked her instantly. Moving down the hall, you passed Ward’s study, a room that felt both timeless and functional. It had a desk covered in papers and shelves filled with books. Next was the master bedroom, a room with dark wood furniture and soft linens. 

Finally, Wheezie opened the door to the library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the room, and large armchairs were scattered around a grand fireplace. It felt like the perfect spot for quiet moments. 

You couldn’t help but feel small in this place. It held the warmth of a family home but it was massive, the ceilings too high, and had decor that screamed “we’re wealthy”. 

Downstairs, the living room was the first stop, a grand space with towering ceilings. Soft leather sofas and enormous windows that offered a breathtaking view of the stretching land and mountains in the distance.

Moving through the open archway into the kitchen, you took note of counters made of polished stone, dark wood cabinets, and the appliances all state-of-the-art. The kitchen was bustling with a couple of workers, one chopping vegetables at the counter, the other pulling something out of the oven. You noticed a door that led out to a terrace.

“These are all Rose’s renovations. She’s really into interior design, and all that stuff.” 

“And the people. They work here all the time?” you asked, intrigued.

“My Dad can grill, but Rose doesn’t cook at all. So they get help,” Wheezie explained with a shrug. “I think she likes having everything perfect, you know?”

“She does have really nice taste,” You spoke genuinely, fumbling with your fingers as you looked around.

Past the kitchen was the dining room, where a long, weathered table was set for what could easily be a dozen guests. The chandelier above was massive, its crystals catching the light and casting a glow over the room.

Wheezie led you into the garage next. The space was expansive, with polished concrete floors and a collection of vehicles parked neatly in their spots, sleek trucks, a few SUVs, and a couple of classic cars you assumed were more for show. Near the back of the garage, you spotted a few horseshoe-shaped saddles hanging on the wall, alongside an array of hunting gear. There were rifles and ammunition neatly organized on the shelves, a few pairs of boots stacked by the door, and weathered hunting jackets hanging from the walls. It was practical, but still had the polished look of the rest of the house, like nothing here was ever out of place.

“Do you ride?” Wheezie asked as you took in the details of the room.

“Yeah, I have a horse named Juliet,” you grinned. “Do you?”

“I can,” Wheezie replied with a shrug. “I’m not great at it. Sarah’s better, and Rafe—well, he’s good at things like that.”

“Does Sarah live here too?” you asked, curious.

“Yeah, but she’s been MIA for two days.” Wheezie’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You can’t tell anyone this,” she continued, glancing around before leaning in closer. “She and John B. are a thing. And she hangs out with his friends.”

“It’s a secret?” you asked, intrigued but still unsure of the family dynamics at play.

Wheezie nodded, her eyes flicking to the door as if checking for eavesdroppers. “My dad wants her to be with someone whose family is... more prestigious, if that makes sense?”

You processed that for a moment, nodding slowly. “But my family’s not... prestigious. But Ward wants me to marry your brother.”

A mischievous glint sparked in Wheezie’s eyes. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. “Is it true that Rafe got you pregnant and that’s why you have to live with us?”

You froze for a split second, then blurted out, “I am not!” You suddenly realized how loud you’d been and lowered your voice, grabbing Wheezie’s hand as you whispered urgently, “I am not.”

“Other people don’t think I’m pregnant, do they?” You continued, “Because I don’t think I’ve done anything that could lead to that…”

You questioned yourself for a moment, feeling a pang of uncertainty. You’d learned about the birds and the bees just once, when you were eleven, and it had been before your mother died. After that, your education had been limited, and anything beyond what she'd explained was a blur of confusion.

What you were certain of, though, was that the kiss with Rafe couldn’t have led to that. You had never heard of anything like that happening from a simple kiss. To your knowledge, you needed at least to sleep in the same bed for that to happen, and you and Rafe hadn’t crossed that line. Before your mind could wander to that possibility, Wheezie spoke. 

“I’m not trying to be rude, just curious,” She said with a smirk, her tone light and teasing. “No one around here tells me anything.”

A few hours later you entered the dining room again with Wheezie. You’d spend a good amount of time in her room and she’d explained more about her family, including more details about Rafe. You learned that she was Rafe’s soft spot. That he was cold to almost everyone except her. Ward had a lot of expectations for him and Rafe did about everything he could to appease his father. 

“I think Rafe just wants to do things his own way,” Wheezie had mused. “But, you know, my Dad has other ideas. He’s been trying to get Rafe to be more... ‘like him.’”

Kindly, you’d accepted her request for you to help her with her makeup. You’d done hers like yours, with bright blush and shiny lipgloss. She was so excited that she practically skipped down the stairs after, her happiness infectious as she bounced in front of you. A part of you couldn’t help but smile. Was this what it was like to have a sister? The feeling was new and strange, but warm, like something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

Rafe looked you over, as if he was offended by your choice in clothing, “What did I do?” You asked, innocently. 

Maybe he didn’t think your outfit was cute. 

“Come sit next to me,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something possessive, as if he were commanding you rather than asking. He waved you over. 

You hesitated, looking at Ward, who gave you a reassuring, welcoming smile, and then at Rose and Sarah. Sarah’s gaze was sharp, watching you with a kind of calculating curiosity, while Rose barely seemed to notice, her eyes distant and uninterested.

You exhaled slowly, making your way over to the seat next to Rafe. Your knees brushed against each other but he didn’t move his. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N. I’ve known her family for years, and after that everything’s happened, she’s going to stay with us. She’s been through a lot.”

“Mm-hmm,” Rose murmured, almost absentmindedly. “It’s lovely to have you here with us.” Her tone wasn’t cold, but it certainly wasn’t warm, either.

Ward’s words seemed genuine, but you didn’t understand fully why he spoke so kindly. The two of you were practically strangers. Wheezie smiled brightly in reaction. Sarah, on the other hand, was looking you over even more closely than Rafe. You could see the thoughts swirling in your mind. 

“I have a question-” She blurted out.

Ward interrupted, “I’d watch yourself, young lady.” 

“I just want to make sure everything’s clear,” Sarah said softly, her voice quieter now. “I’m just... trying to understand why, that’s all. A marriage seems a little bit rushed, don’t you think? They didn’t even know each other before today.” 

“They didn’t?” Wheezie raised an eyebrow. 

The pressure in the room increased, “Sarah,” Ward began to warn her but it was Rafe who spoke up next. 

Rafe’s voice cut through the growing tension, his tone firm, almost possessive. “It’s not rushed, Sarah,” he said, turning to look at her. “It’s just what it is. No need to complicate it.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the sharpness of Rafe’s gaze making you shift uncomfortably in your seat. He answering for you, as if you didn’t have a say in how things were perceived.

Sarah didn’t flinch. Her eyes held a quiet defiance. As if to change the subject, Rafe continued, “What is that on your face, Wheeze?” 

“It’s called makeup,” She shot back, annoyed, “Y/N did it.”

Rafe turned his head towards you, “It’s a little much for someone her age, don’t you think?”

“I think she looks really pretty. I started wearing makeup way younger than her,” You responded quietly but honestly, “That’s how you, like, get good at it.” 

“See,” Wheezie stuck her tongue out at her older brother. 

Suddenly, you felt Rafe’s hand touch your knee underneath the table. The warmth of Rafe’s hand on your knee sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite focus on anything else. His touch was unexpected, as though he’d done it without thinking, and yet, there was something deliberate about the way he kept his hand resting there.

Dinner was officially served moments later. Rafe’s hand remained there on your knee as you all began to eat the carefully prepared steak, potatoes and asparagus. Your steak was already cut into a pieces, a luxury that you didn’t even know others experienced. 

Sarah pushed around her asparagus, “How do you feel about moving in with us so suddenly, Y/N? I mean, do you really know what you’re getting yourself into?”

You paused, unsure of what to say, your gaze instinctively shifting toward Rafe. His hand was still on your knee, but the grip felt firmer now, like he was holding you in place, keeping you from saying something that might upset the balance of things.

You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts, but when you opened your mouth, it all just came tumbling out. “It’s kinda overwhelming,” you started, your voice soft but a little unsure. “I miss… I miss my Dad. And you guys have all this land, and this house is so huge, it’s hard to wrap my head around it all.” You glanced at Sarah, then back to your plate. “And, like, I didn’t think I’d get married this young, but… if it’s really what my Dad wanted…”

You trailed off, feeling a little embarrassed. Sarah’s gaze softened slightly, “It’s a big step. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Up until that point, you hadn’t realized you had a choice in all of this. You could see she wasn’t questioning you out of judgement. She almost looked concerned. 

“Enough, Sarah,” Ward spoke sharply, “This is bigger than what one person thinks is right. I don’t expect you to understand but it’s about responsibility. Rafe is growing up and he’s decided to take on new responsibilities. I don’t see why you can’t be supportive.” 

“I just think she deserves more time to decide,” Sarah said. 

“There isn’t a rush. I’m not rushing them, that’s for certain. Rafe and Y/N will take the time to get to know each other.”

The room fell quiet for a moment. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. You glanced at him and noticed the subtle shake of his head, as if dismissing the entire idea. “What’s the point in waiting? You can plan a wedding in a few weeks, right?” 

“Rafe, son, don’t you think two should spend some time together?”

“No, Dad, we’ll get married as soon as possible. If Y/N wants to have a real ceremony, Rose can plan it, but I’d be down to just go to the courthouse.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. 

“Rafe,” Sarah leaned forward in her seat, “Are you actually crazy?”

How did we get here? You had no answers, just a rush of emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe you should’ve said something, but the lump in your throat made it hard to think. 

“We’ll figure it out” Rafe said, cutting her off. He turned his attention to you, his gaze intense but unreadable. “Right, darling?”

The way he looked at you made your stomach twist. It was as though he was asking you to confirm something you didn’t fully understand yourself. You opened your mouth to respond, but Wheezie chimed in before you could.

“Dude, that’s like, so not romantic!” she exclaimed, scrunching her nose. “You haven’t even proposed yet!”

Sarah seized the moment, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Exactly. At least ask her properly, Rafe. Or are you afraid she’ll say no?”

The air at the table grew heavier. You glanced at Ward, who looked ready to intervene, but Rafe beat him to it. His lips curled into a tight smile, though his eyes flashed with something darker. “You think I’m afraid of that, Sarah?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

All you could think about was the way Rafe’s hand hadn’t left your knee, his grip steady, as if anchoring you to him despite the chaos swirling around the table.

“Can we drop it, please?” Rafe asked, his tone deep and final. 

“I want Y/N to stay,” Wheezie decided. 

“We all want Y/N to stay,” Ward clarified.

“Well, good,” Rose chimed in, her smile polished and hollow. “Then it’s settled.”

At the end of dinner, Ward leaned back in his chair, addressing you, “You’ll find we take care of our own here, sweetheart. Anything you need, you only have to ask.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure what else to say.

“We should get going,” Rafe announced abruptly, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. His hand left your knee, only to find the small of your back as he helped you up. 

Wheezie pouted. “But we haven’t even had dessert!”

“Next time, Wheeze,” Rafe replied, his tone firm. “Come on, Y/N.”

You followed him out of the dining room, feeling the eyes of his entire family on your back. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, trying to keep up with Rafe’s long strides. He’d given you his jacket and asked you to put on your boots, before guiding you out the front door. You clutched the jacket tightly, the night beginning to turn cool. The sky was still heavy with the remnants of rain but an orange and pink sun began to lower in the sky, peaking behind soft, gray clouds, “Rafe?” 

High grass tickled the bare legs hidden beneath your skirt as you walked into the fields, “Just for a walk. That okay with you?”

“You know, sometimes I think you really don’t care what’s okay with me.” Rafe flashed you an amused look, “Oh yeah? Maybe I like making decisions for you.” 

You snorted in disbelief but your heart fluttered nonetheless. 

"What's the real reason you brought me out here?" You asked, pushing the conversation forward despite the tension. 

Rafe stopped and turned to face you, his expression unreadable for a moment. He studied you, like he was considering his words carefully. "Maybe I just wanted to see you without all the noise around us. No distractions. Just you and me."

The ranch stretched out before you, vast and quiet. The ground beneath your feet was soft as you walked, fast enough to follow Rafe’s steps. A faint hum of crickets began to rise in the distance. 

A modest building tucked near the tree line, far from the main house came into view, “That’s the ranch hand’s quarters,” Rafe explained, “You won’t need to be over there, it’s no place for a woman.” 

The sun continued to hang lower as you walked, casting a golden hue over the land. Rafe led you further into the sprawling escape, pointing out different landmarks, “This land’s been my family’s for generations. But my Dad was the one who made it what it was today. It’s very important to me. This land and all the hard work that’s put into it.” 

“My dad’s tough on me but it’s his legacy, you know? It’s more than just making money or raising cattle. I don’t know, I just want to protect what I have. Make sure my kids and my grandkids have it, ya' know?”

He didn’t look for your understanding, his words genuine, but the look on his face was guarded. He paused, his jaw tightening slightly, “You don’t to get to be part of something big and not feel like you’ve got to give everything you have to it.”

“What if…” Your voice trailed as you tried to collect your thoughts, “How do I know it’s something I want to be apart of?” 

“As my wife, you’d stand beside me. You’d build with me. Raise our children. Make a home. You’d make everything that I’m working towards, worth it. That’s a life with purpose, yeah?” 

As he spoke, his voice deep and steady, you found yourself drawn to the way his features seemed to soften, despite the intensity of his words. Those blue eyes were focused on you with an intensity that made your throat go dry. 

He stood taller now, the weight of his words pressed in on you and you could see the full picture he was painting. It wasn’t just the land. It was you. It was him. It was a family. 

“Yeah,” You agreed, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it. Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to his lips. They were slightly parted, the edge of his mouth curling just a bit as he spoke, and for a moment, you forgot where you were.

“Yeah,” Rafe agreed, a knowing look on his face, and his hand found the small of your back, “I owe you something, don’t I?”

“Owe me?” Your voice faltered. What was he talking about? 

Rafe didn’t answer right away. Instead, he simply pulled you forward, his hand firm against your back as he guided you through the tall grass. You didn’t have time to question him before the two of you reached a secluded barn, tall and clay-colored, tucked far away from the main house. The air smelled faintly of hay and wood, the earthy scent of the ranch settling around you. But you barely had time to take in your surroundings before Rafe was pulling you into him. His hand slid to the back of your neck, drawing you closer, until his lips were on yours. 

The kiss Rafe Cameron had promised you. 

All those thoughts you had about the land, the future, everything he’d said, it all slipped away. 

Someone, something, had overtaken you. Something ached inside of you, a part of your very being that had never been satisfied. You felt like an animal, desperate, grabbing at Rafe’s shirt, wanting him closer. He was already pressed tightly against you but deep down you wanted more. 

His lips weren’t as gentle as you remembered, they enveloped your mouth, his tongue tasting you, his arms keeping you where he wanted as he explored you.Without warning, he tugged you into an empty stall, the scent of hay and leather thick in the air. His hands were at the edges of your jacket now, pulling it open, his fingers brushing against your skin as the cool air of the barn nipped at your exposed flesh. 

A startled yelp escaped your lips as you felt his hands bunching up your skirt, the fabric sliding higher until it was gathered above your hips. Your eyes flew open, but Rafe was relentless, his mouth still claiming yours with fervent, unyielding kisses. You didn’t know exactly how babies were made but you had a feeling you were getting closer than you’d ever had before. Before you could process it, Rafe lifted you effortlessly, his hands sliding to cup your bottom as he held you tightly against him. Part of you began to panic. 

Then, with deliberate care, he laid you down. not on the rough ground but on his jacket, which was spread beneath you. Darkened eyes met your panicked ones. This was much more than a kiss. Although you’d enjoyed that part of the exchange, you weren’t sure you wanted more, “Rafe,” You whispered, your voice uncertain, as he moved his mouth from your lips to the sides of your mouth. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of sensations. You pushed at his chest and felt you were pushing against a boulder. There would know way to get from underneath him, even if you tried, “Are… you gonna put a baby in me?”

He paused, lifting his head to look you in the eye and you had to remind yourself to breathe in that moment, “Jesus Christ. You’re something else, you know that?” Rafe grinned and some of your uncertainty went away. His reaction made the moment feel more lighthearted, like there wasn’t a boundary being crossed, like his intentions were innocent.

“I like the kissing,” You admitted, “It feels good b-but I’m scared–”

Rafe shushed you, peppering gentle kisses along your jawline, until he reached the side of your neck. Your thighs clenched tightly, your head tilted back, and you couldn’t control your moaning. Rafe spread your legs with his own, his jeans brushing against the smoothness of your thighs. He pressed his lower half into you and you felt something as hard as a rock, rubbing against your panties. It was then, your core started to feel like it was on fire. 

“Don’t be scared, it’ll just hurt for a moment,” Rafe spoke against your skin, huskily, his voice almost sounding like he was in pain, “You’re just gonna lay still for me, I need you to help me to take care of something.”

“Hurt?” You questioned, your mind hanging on that word. Then you thought back to your question. He hadn’t really answered. 

He seemed to ignore you again, his mouth moving lower on your body. He pulled your shirt down, and as your breasts spilled from their constraints, he left kisses on your nipples. Your head tilted back again when he took one of your nipples fully into his mouth, “Rafe,” You whispered but the sound of his name only seem to push him further. His fingers traced the edge of your panties before he slipped his fingers inside, brushing over your folds. You were wet down there, you realized, and mostly out of embarrassment, you started to pull away, “Please don’t touch me there.” 

You watched his pupils dilate as he stared down at you intently. He kept one hand in your underwear and wrapped his other around your throat, quickly, as if his body was reacting instinctively to your defiance. 

“Don’t tell me that,” Rafe said, almost growling, and your hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to push away his hand as you struggled to breathe, “I have to touch ya' here, darlin’. I’m gonna be your husband. This belongs to me, understand?” 

Your eyes widened as he rubbed circles over your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked in reaction and you silenced your moans, knowing you only had so much air to breathe, “Say you understand. Say yes.” 

You nodded your head quickly, “Yes,” You whispered. 

You were grateful when he loosed his grip around your throat, “It’s a good thing you’re wet. Nothing to be ashamed of. Just means this is what your body wants, baby. You already want to make me happy.” 

You weren’t quite sure at what moment your body decided to freeze. Your nerves were overwhelmed, of course, and it seemed like you’d come out less scathed from the situation if you did as Rafe said. You could stay still and take it. There was something happening with Rafe you didn’t understand but he was acting as though he needed something and you were only one who could provide it. You could stay still and take it if it would make him happy, right? It’s a good thing to make other people happy. 

You focused on the kisses on your lips, the way his soft mouth moved methodically over yours. The faint jangle of metal pulled you back to the moment, a sound you barely registered until you felt the press of something impossibly hard, slowly pushing against a place you hadn’t realized could take him. His manhood, you assumed, what made him different from you. It hurt like he said it would but not for just a moment. Were all manhoods this size? This is what your body really wants? 

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the edge of strain. His hand brushed over your trembling thigh, steadying you as your body tried to accommodate him. “You’re okay. I promise.”

He started to rock into you once you felt completely full to the brim. Initially, it felt even worse than him pushing all the way inside you. Tears fell and your breath grew rapid, “It hurts,” You whimpered, “It really hurts.”

“It’s okay,” He said, maintaining his pace, “You’re okay, darlin’. You’re doing great. It’s just your first time. Gotta get used to me, that's all.” 

“Are-are you putting a baby in me, Rafe?” You asked, your voice an innocent whisper. His grip on you tightened as his rhythm grew more deliberate, his words spilling out in a low growl.

“Fuck yes, darlin’,” he said, his voice thick with unrestrained desire. “I’m gonna put a baby in you.”

His hands, his words, the pain between your legs that was slowly turning to pleasure, it made you dizzy, and you couldn’t keep track of your thoughts. You belonged to him? A baby? It didn’t make sense, but part of you felt comforted by the intensity of him. You trusted he knew more. Everything’s okay. You were okay. It felt like something you were supposed to be, so you let go and let him have you.

a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)

[rosierin]

smack me like you'd spike a volleyball │ atsumu, osamu, suna

synopsis: title is self explanatory i fear

a/n; guys idk. sometimes an idea pops into my head and i just feel compelled to share it

anyway enjoy this pure brainrot

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :p

(Y/n) hummed, idly scrolling through her phone. “Y’know, I’ve always wondered…”

Atsumu, from across the room, barely looked up from his drink. “That’s dangerous.”

(Y/n) ignored him. “‘Smack my ass like you spike a volleyball’—how hard would that actually be?”

Atsumu choked on his drink. “What!?”

"You heard me," (y/n) said, voice comically serious.

After composing himself a little, Atsumu actually— like actually pondered her words.

"Ya know, I've had a fan tweet that at me before and I don’t think they realise how painful that would be.”

Suna, who had been listening in on the entire conversation, eventually piped up, without so much as a blink. “Isn’t that the point?”

Atsumu pressed on, his tone almost urgent. “No. No, I mean, that shit would really hurt.”

(Y/n) shrugged, then stood up. “Okay, let’s try.”

Atsumu nearly dropped his cup. “You want me to smack yer ass??”

(Y/n) deadpanned. “No, you clown. Slap my hand like you’d spike a volleyball and I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Atsumu stared at her, then at her outstretched hand, then back at her face. “Are ya sure?”

“Yeah.”

“This is really gonna hurt.”

“Stop stalling and slap me already!”

Atsumu groaned, stretching his wrist like he was warming up for Nationals. “Jesus. Alright, woman. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

That was the moment Osamu walked into the room.

He took one look at the scene—(y/n) standing there, hand out, Atsumu poised to slap her like he was about to serve match point in the Olympics.

Osamu blinked. “What is happening.”

Suna barely contained his smirk. “(Y/n) is asking Atsumu to slap her.”

Osamu’s stare turned exponentially more judgmental. “…What.”

Suna shrugged but didn't question it. “Dunno either.”

Atsumu waved a hand at them, then jerked a thumb at (y/n). “Hey, don’t look at me, she’s the freak here.”

Osamu sighed, rubbing his temples like this wasn’t even in his top ten weirdest experiences with them. Meanwhile, Suna casually pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the record button.

(Y/n) rolled her shoulders, steeling herself. “Alright. Moment of truth. Hit me.”

Osamu groaned. “Tsumu, don’t actually hit her—”

Too late.

A loud, cracking smack sliced through the air as Atsumu swung his hand full force against (y/n)’s palm. The sheer impact made the sound echo off the walls.

(Y/n) immediately yanked her hand back, shaking it out furiously. “OW—”

Atsumu looked horrified. “I TOLD YOU, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT—”

(Y/n) fanned her stinging palm. “MY HAND BURNS.”

Osamu stared at them in pure disappointment before shaking his head and walking straight out of the room like he was clocking out of their nonsense.

Meanwhile, Suna, still filming, zoomed in dramatically on (y/n)’s face. “Well?”

(Y/n) flexed her fingers, pain still written over her features. “That actually hurt way more than I thought it would.”

Atsumu scoffed. “I am a literal professional athlete, what on earth did you expect?”

Suna panned his camera to Atsumu. “Subtle flex.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, still shaking her hand. “Okay, athlete. Anyway, I can now confirm that your fangirls do NOT want to get spanked like a volleyball.”

Suna stopped recording, nodding sagely. “Amen.”

Osamu’s voice drifted from the hallway. “Y'all need therapy.”

A beat of silence.

Atsumu grinned at (y/n), waggling his eyebrows. “‘Kay, now turn around, babe. S'time to try out the real deal."

Suna immediately hit record again.

(Y/n) screeched and protected her precious backside.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

[weirdmageddon]

first i wanna say whenever i said “differentiation” above i actually meant “individuation”. sorry got them mixed up they’re kinda similar words

#op had no clue you were looking at the tags thank you for the very #very smart addition with all your sources (wow) #felt like I was reading a paper I felt educated! #I love how I didn’t get that into what I was trying to say in tags but you completed my thought anyways #multiple times I went ‘that’s EXACTLY what I’m saying’

whaaat of COURSE i'm looking at the tags. i soak up what people have to say like a sponge. i think i was looking for a discussion and you got the ball rolling by bringing new information to the table i didn't know, but immediately knew how it fit into all the connections i've made, and i accidentally just gave birth to an essay?

i swear i wasn't even intending it to be a full-fledged essay. i just have a lot to say. there is a LOT i keep in my head because i don’t expect most people to have as in-depth of an understanding as me about it, but when it can actually pass as relevant to a discussion i’m so happy to be able to put it out there without alienating myself. from my perspective, twas a normal post for me to make when i have a lot of information i've been sitting on. and i like citing sources so that people can read more if they're interested. but this is probably unusual or for most of the people reading this, i mean who else have you seen casually posting something like this, BE REAL

also, YES "that is EXACTLY what i'm saying" that is one of my favorite feelings ever. i live for that. so glad i could expand on your thoughts!

#also jung in the houseeee!! idk if it’s just my family but we love jung over here #I really gotta read up on it my grandma is a therapist who practices only in jungian(?) #clearly im uneducated on the proper word here it’s also 4 am so forgive me #anyways yeah my gma big into jung then my mom and my brother and I was just talking about the dream book he has today #so I went ‘omg! Jung!’ while reading this #it’s always so nice to see someone with knowledge and passion throw down #I was just gonna stick to canon or in text examples

canon or in-text examples are great too, they’rereally the basis for everything. but i see connections between my interests and can’t help but smash them together in a way that deepens them individually cause they complement each other.

personality typology, carl jung’s ideas, socionics, etc. are given living breathing context to manifest within so it's not just a cerebral abstract theory. it’s reunited with the substance that these psychodynamic theories originated from in the first place.

the venture bros is inextricable from its creators because so much of themselves and their experiences are put into the show. i remember doc once said in some interview “we plumb our own lives”. in the commentary jackson said one of the streets in the show was designed based on a block from his childhood and that these are the same kinds of steps he'd sit on. or in the art book, “what’s one of the most embarrassing things that happened to me in my life that i can write from?” their philosophy is both very “write from what you know” (that’s also what i do). so analysis of the show and its characters, and by necessary extension, the creators, is deepened with tools that allow the analysis into the nature of self that complements the development of characters.

#also I didn’t want to get too into it in my tags bc I do feel uncomfortable theorizing the existence of a character #bc I knew Jackson mom passing had to be such a strong part of him but I felt uncomfortable going into that #they also made this show in their 20s? 30s?#the time frame where you end up thinking about your identity #there’s a commentary where doc mentions he at the time couldn’t let go of internally gay bashing himself #a thing his bullies did that he has now internalize but he found it weird bc he’s so old now and alone so why is he doing it? #and then I went there it is there is that proof I needed to know this is a breathing art

to tell you the truth, when i was writing i actually wasn't thinking about that at all. “feeling uncomfortable theorizing the existence of a character because you knew jackson's mom passing had to be such a strong part of him but felt uncomfortable going into that”. so reading you think that made me feel a smidge guilty/embarrassed in hindsight now for not even considering that. because, yeah, i don’t know jackson in person, i’ve never interacted with him personally. but i know enough about him as a person just through the show itself and how he reveals his personality through his relationship with doc hammer, his own words, his actions and writing decisions and that makes me just…..objectively confident about what he can handle?

i think the reason i didn’t feel uncomfortable talking about it is because i have no reason to think that jackson himself would mind it if he were to hypothetically read this. i don’t think i’m being presumptuous when i say i believe he’d find it interesting and insightful that i linked those things. i think he’d find it a lot more interesting and perceptive than... i dunno, a lot of the interview questions they’ve been asked? from my perspective it's like a “hey, i see you” kind of thing.

i mean come on they had the episode Assisted Suicide which LITERALLY depicts rusty’s id, ego, and super-ego as characters with their own clever designs and shit (it was written by doc hammer but still jackson publick was part of the production and the idea of it.) i really doubt either of them are averse to psychological exploration, so long as it comes from an informed foundation and not someone who literally doesn't know what they're talking about.

like yeah it is personal in the sense that it is personal to his life, but that doesn’t necessarily mean uncomfortably sensitive. you can talk about personal things and still have an ability to neutrally reason about it as a fact of life, or even joke about it. if you think about it that's basically what the whole show kind of is. that’s a big part of the actual spiritual composition of the show, right? (and based on comments i've read around, that's probably why it's got an antidepressant effect for a lot of people.)

as doc says, "we grew up weird and we're doing our best to just spread our version of love. Which is trying to find out who we are." well that's exactly what i'm doing too. exploring psychological forces is the stroke that's underlying the entire show. “how did these actions affect the internal development and emotional development of xyz”. i believe that's part of why why the narrative is so effective and plays off the character's dynamics so well and how they organically evolve.

(p.s. i’d love to have a new edition of the art book that accounts for the movie, assuming they’re not under some NDA about the scrapped season 8 ideas.)

and you’re right it IS breathing art. that’s how the show was made. the creative process was more spontaneous than having the whole thing planned out.

10:28

Chris: But I want to talk about the creative process here. I think fans of Venture Brothers will know the feeling that there’s this kind of amazing tension that drives the show, between planning and discovery. And you’ll have whole seasons or specific episodes that are kind of these amazingly intricate clockwork plots with these insane payoffs, but then there’s also this element of pure discovery, of something that was a toss-off joke or someone who happened to be a background character in one scene, because they were a background character in that scene having to become a main character three seasons later. So, I was just wondering... could you speak to that tension between planning and discovery?

Jackson: Uhh, more discovery than planning. And then just having a dumb memory and ticking on stupid things. And always like, from day one, the least important background character... I insisted that everybody look a little interesting. You know, like everbody’s appearance implied a story we weren’t telling you. And that paid off a few times. We got a few main characters out of that, ultimately. You know, like White and Billy were just these two weirdos at a science convention. And Doc was like, “I wanna write for the little eyepatch metal hand guy. Why does he have that?” You know? And then once you start doing that, you're like... “I gotta tell the story of how he got his metal hand! Cause I got nothing else.”

Chris: Yeah.

Jackson: So yeah, mostly discovery and accident and uh... mental catalogue of everything... that, you know... that sits in the back of your memory for years and these molecules just bounce off of each other.

Doc: Yeah. And we talk about these characters- we spoke in their voices for months. (Jackson laughs) Every day, at the expense of every relationship we’ve ever been in. (Jackson laughs harder) When we invented Sgt. Hatred’s voice, the guy at the deli-

Jackson: Oh my god... (wheezing laughing)

Doc: The guy at the DELI was like “what is WRONG with you”, I’m like, “(Hatred's voice) Eyeah, I’ll be havin”…

Jackson: (laughing)

Doc: “The black and white...”

Jackson: (mic peaking, Hatred's voice) “EYEAH go ahead and uh Slap auh smidge a mustard on that, would ya?”

Doc: Through the voice we developed the character, and everything came from that. And since we’re obsessive about these voices and these characters, we lived them... We can’t have a conversation for more than ten minutes without doing an impression of one of our characters. And usually ones we don’t do. So you get to hear our horrible impressions of each other. That is just the way we thought.

Sean: So this season, why did you decide to explore so much of the Venture past?

Doc: Did we?

Jackson: Did we?

Doc: I think the season before this we got even crazier. We had to answer Billy questions that nobody asked.

Jackson: Right. Yeah, that was the season with old Billy, ORB, uhh..

Doc: Yeah. We went 100 years into the Venture past. So this one we kinda stayed...

Jackson: We did a little Spanakopita, we did a little um, in the Rose stuff and the... but those were pretty quick flashbacky things.

Doc: Little quick flashbacks...

Jackson: But also the show is all about these people who are kinda.. haunted by, and trying to live up to their pasts and what the promise of what their life was supposed to be like. And it’s... the history is constantly pouring more shit down on their heads. Like, we’ve always had a show where things come back to get you like that.

Doc: Even things that happened so long ago and nobody knew about until that moment. Yeah, we work in past, present, future... it’s that kinda show.

#vbros is still to me and morel Orel shows that are created with intention #and by people who were working through a thought so clear you can see it from space #and that intention is something so interesting and unique #anyway amazing analysis

you’re also so right, and thank you for kind words

if i had the opportunity to talk to doc and jackson, i’d love to see what they have to say about what we touched on: about hank’s developmental arc always feeling like it would fit the end of the vbros and kind of culminating in its overarching theme of individuation (whether they explicitly knew it or not. it’s in the material no matter what because that’s what organically happened to the show itself), and what they had wanted to do with him before they had to cut it down to movie size. was hank going to really Go Through the psychological ringer or what. how much were we going to see of that that was cut out.

also the unintentional retreading of jungian ideas in the show (though a lot of superhero stuff is about playing with identity in these ways that could be examined through analytical psychology like bruce banner and his other side, the hulk.) i wanna hear about how playing with the self and personalities and self-discovery factors into it all. hank’s alter-egos being a personification of psychic structures, or complexes/sub-personalities? (was i right about my interpretation?)

how similar is the relationship hank has to his alter-egos to the relationship jackson publick has to hank and the monarch as characters he created? like hank's alter-egos, they could both be considered autonomous mini-personalities stemming from jackson’s own self, as he said hank (and monarch) contained the most of him, drawn from his “own dumb thoughts, actions, and misbeliefs”. like a meta fractal thing. and that’s part of the creative process just as much as anything else about the show, probably one of the most vital to the quality of the characters yet subconscious and not really talked about. i'd looove to dive into that with them.

especially with hank’s no mommy plotline and how personal that was to hank, which reflects jackson’s reality. we can’t really see who worked on what scenes since the movie was collaborative, but i want to know who was writing hank. his emotions felt so authentic but it also felt big because we’ve never seen hank so serious, you could feel a shift with hank buckling down which made it feel important. my guess would be jackson since his understanding would enable him to channel that masterfully into hank which makes it so compelling. but i could be wrong since i know doc said he can write eight pages for psychological issues (look at me doing it too god fucking damn it) but writing action is like a tiny footnote.

basically i wanna talk to them about everything i said up to this point in this post. if anyone reading this has connections, get me in contact. i’m invested in this now.

whereas dean was tormented by being a clone and hank wasn’t, not having a mom or mother figure seemed to torment hank a lot more than dean which is interesting.

[linda-rose]

don't know why I usually avoid it but I just rewatched "Swing" for the first time in a very long time and I think it's one of the most genius and heart wrenching and beautiful episodes of SVU actually.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Bury Your Gays

Horror

a scriptwriter in hollywood who’s getting attention & an Oscar nom after working in the industry for years, but is being pressured by algorithm-obsessed producers to kill off the queer characters in the season finale of the show he writes

and when he starts getting stalked by the monsters he wrote (based on traumas of his past) he has to figure out how to survive, along with his best friend and boyfriend

[litnerdwrites]

I think Nesta would practically be a wraith by the time she's pushed to this point. No opinions, not speaking unless spoken to, refusing to fight the nc on anything, taking their insults, always with her head bowed, and pretty much a hollow shell at this point. I can picture Cassian becoming worse over the years, maybe to the point of hurting her without realising it. Going too hard on her in training or too rough in sex, and even his normal touches just becoming too rough, and ultimately leaving her black and blue all over. She tried to tell him but he doesn't give a shit, and assume it's all from training. Idk if Feyre or Elain notice, or if they think it's from training, but I think Rhys would be pleased by it regardless.

Maybe one night, after he was too rough with her during sex, she's laying there, in pain, while he's sleeping, realising that Azriel is out, and nobody expects to see Cassian until a family dinner the following evening, and as soon as the thought comes to her, she snaps and stabs him. Probably multiple times, while crying and screaming.

I don't think she'd be in any state to flee, so if she did, it would be with Gwyn. The house would get her, and she'd either walk into the murder, or the aftermath, and living in a library with trauma and abuse survivors, would immediately realise what happened. Not that she an Emerie didn't already know, given the amount of bruises Nesta got and the whole 'it was in training' 'it was an accident' excuse, plus Nesta's over all demeanour in recent years, so, needless to say, our favorite priestess was prepared. She, and maybe even some of the other Valkyries, help Nesta flee. They might send a letter to Emerie, would meet up with them later. Maybe some that were in the library chose to leave as well, because their eyes have slowly been opened by recent events and this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Those that stay would ban Rhys and co from the library, and if they did leave, they'd take their tomes and research with them. Either way, I think they'd consider Nesta a martyr.

Maybe Feyre, initially, would believe that Nesta didn't do it, and that she was taken. Maybe Elain would think that too, even if the others refuse to believe it for one reason or another. I think Azriel might even be skeptical at first. At least unless there was evidence of it. But even if they did learn the truth, would they really understand? Cassian is Azriel's brother, so I doubt he'd be able to forgive her, at least entirely. Would Feyre and Elain see what Cassian was doing to her, if given the chance to see what a ghost she was. Even if they saw Gwyn's memories, or the priestesses standing by her, would they take her side?

Not that she needs forgiveness, mind you, but just as in, would he demand she be punished, or would he see what she did as justifiable? Because if it was someone else, someone they deem worthy, like a woman from Velaris or something, they'd absolutely stand by what she did as being right. But it's not. It's Cassian who was killed. It's Nesta who killed him.

The house, ngl I'm not a huge fan of, cause I think it still choses Rhysand over Nesta, but in this case, maybe it would refuse the IC entry, or even put Cassian's corpse outside so they don't have to come in.

Over all, I don't think Nesta would be able to flee without help, and even then, the circumstances had to really be in her favour for her to be able to pull it off. Unfortunately, those circumstances involve other people being ready to act where the IC wasn't, because Nesta herself would definitely, as you said, be a ghost after. I'm not sure if she'd ever be herself again.

If Nesta were to, one day, after years of being stuck with that incel, kill Cassian in a fit of hopelessness and desperation, I honestly wouldn't be shocked. In fact, I say good riddance. The only two downsides is, a) out girl would have to deal with more trauma than she already has, and b) the IC, and even her sisters would probably take the opportunity to lock her up or throw her in the prison if she doesn't escape the NC.

Honestly? If that ever happened—if Nesta snapped after years of being emotionally exhausted, manipulated, boxed in, and pushed beyond her breaking point, and she killed Cassian in a moment of pure hopelessness and desperation—I would not be shocked either. It wouldn’t be written as empowering, but it would make complete narrative sense considering how much pressure she’s constantly under, how little autonomy she’s truly given even after her “redemption,” and how no one really listens to what she wants unless it’s convenient to them.

And you’re right—the tragedy wouldn’t be the act itself, it would be everything that came after:

• The IC would absolutely turn on her—especially Rhysand, who already made it clear in ACOFS that he tolerates her existence at best. He’s not above using power to enforce his judgment, and with his temper and ego, he’d likely demand that Nesta be imprisoned or punished for disrupting his “perfect Night Court image.”

• Feyre… would be conflicted. She loves Nesta, but she also prioritizes peace, and if Rhys pushed the idea that Nesta was dangerous, Feyre might feel forced to choose between her sister and the Court. And we’ve seen how Feyre, when cornered, leans toward control and image protection, especially now as High Lady.

• Elain would probably retreat, emotionally and physically. She doesn’t like conflict, and this would be massive. And depending on whether the IC weaponized her against Nesta emotionally (which I 100% think they would), she might be kept deliberately distant.

• Mor and Amren? Likely against her. Mor, because of her loyalty to Rhys, and Amren, because she’s already shown she’s not that invested in Nesta’s well-being post-transformation.

• Azriel might hesitate. He’s one of the few who’s actually seen through the surface with Nesta, but again, his loyalty runs deep with the IC.

So what would happen?

If Nesta didn’t immediately flee, she would be treated as a public threat, not a grieving, broken person pushed past her limit. I can honestly see Rhys using it as an excuse to strip her of rights, possibly even send her to the Prison under the guise of “protecting Prythian.” Nesta would become a cautionary tale.

But if she ran—and I think she would—she’d go full ghost mode. She’s smart, resourceful, and when cornered, dangerous. She would vanish into the human lands, or somewhere beyond the courts, where no one would look. She’d build something on her own, finally free of everyone else’s expectations, but carrying that immense weight of guilt and grief. And I think that’s where true healing might actually begin—for her, and only her.

[nomidreams]

god i finally watched new episodes my honest reaction is jgiwoaoKzmxmkwkakkak

[jasongracedefenseattorney]

here’s my full review of the tortured poets department: the anthology by taylor swift. i’m just going to start off by saying this is a grown ass woman and a billionaire and if you believe her music is above reproach just because she embodies girlhood or you liked the album or whatever just keep it trucking because i get to say whatever i want here.

first here’s the songs i like:

the black dog (what girl hasn’t checked a location, i ask you?!?)

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus (it could be traffic sounds and my name being in the title will still make me like it)

the alchemy

clara bow (this one makes me go 🎀🧚🏻‍♀️💕)

thank you aimee (grandchild of mean)

the albatross

peter (really mostly just the ending)

the bolter

the manuscript

the smallest man who ever lived (i will never hate a song that is about how matty healy sucks)

i can do it with a broken heart (corny but i have already seen edits with it and the right edit could make me like any song plus certain parts remind me of yoyok)

guilty as sin?

my boy only breaks his favorite toys (specifically for the line “im queen of sandcastles he destroys” which i like)

but daddy love him (she’s real for saying cut the fucking whining)

the prophecy (me coded)

fortnight (post malone’s positive affect on my enjoyment cannot be overstated)

now for my opinions:

many of the songs aren’t BAD just completely unmemorable like i remember nary a lyric or tune of cassandra or the prophecy or robin etc etc

jack antonoff should be strung up! the only good things he’s done are 1. melodrama by lorde, and 2. inspiring margaret by lana del rey (plus the occasional good taylor song like getaway car and sweet nothings but whatever) honestly the two have outgrown each other and their music apart is way more interesting than anything they do together. aaron dessner is a hero.

i have no technical issues with florida!!! but as someone who has spent quite a bit of time in florida it feels like someone romanticizing newark, new jersey and that feeling stretches so deep that not even florence + the machine could make me enjoy what is otherwise a really fun song

there must be something about british men bc people dating british guys write so american by olivia rodrigo and paper rings and people who have broken up with british guys write so long, london

who’s afraid of little old me feels like the perfect example of every criticism taylor gets. she is the most powerful voice in hollywood, is extraordinarily litigious, and has won in every way that matters but still she acts like every criticism of her is an attack on girlhood and feminism. like she is a grown woman writing “i’m just a girl” music about how not being universally adored is such a huge tragedy and it just feels so corny

i look in peoples windows and down bad are both songs i’m sure i’ll love two months from now

the line about 1830 without the racists is CRAZY. even without the racists that was not a good time!

overall a very weak album. it’s like she’s stuck in some sort of perma-youth where she is unable to mature beyond “all of my exes are either the devil or taylor lautner” and it shows how very insular her adulthood has been. she’s been famous her entire adult life and her music sounds like the kind of lyric a teenager writes in their notes app. like i don’t hate the music but it’s all just so extraordinarily mid. every song on this album could be on any other album of any other pop girlie and i wouldn’t blink. taylor is supposed to be one of the strongest lyricists of our time and we’re getting lyrics like “touch me while your bros play grand theft auto”

[fadewalking]

I did it. I finally beat this game.

[hexcitrine]

randomly looked at this account to update my age and holy shit it's been a while since i posted here..........i have a small pile of art i have yet to post but hbhbshdbshbd too lazy

[queenerdloser]

my indirect boss told me today that apparently they are once again talking about having us come into the office more. and emphasized about how it wasn't about performance it just "makes sense" to have people in more.

and like. i didn't argue bc tbh i don't think they want to hear it. but genuinely i'm seething about it bc NO! it doesn't make sense lol. like a) we won't all be in the on the same days, so it's not like it's going to help from a team perspective and b) the doctors we work for are never fucking there, so it's not like it's going to help from that perspective either. every thursday when i go in, it's literally just me all day. it would change NOTHING if i was at home that day vs in the office bc there's literally!!! no one!!!! there!!!!! so how is being in one extra day where they will still be no one there going to do??? anything????

idk it frustrates me bc this push is coming from the doctors who are like. not even in the office more than MAYBE one day a week. and from our higher up boss who for sure is only in the office one day a week. and i know it won't apply to a portion of our admin team bc that portion's supervisor has already point blank said she won't enforce it and won't ask her team to do it. and i have a feeling it will once again just be like the three members of our immediate team which will once again just feel like a punishment for "mistakes" that are a) so small it's fucking insane to me that anyone cares or b) are being caused by the system being shitty and not our own human error.

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Saint of Bright Doors

a surreal Sri Lankan fantasy about colonialism, revolution, mixing fantasy with the modern world

follows a man raised by his mother to kill his father, a god-like cult leader

but as an adult he puts aside his life of violence and moves to the city for a quiet life

he becomes fascinated with ‘bright doors’ around the city that never open and have no other side, and joins a group studying them to find out more

and a support group for those with divine heritage that becomes increasingly revolutionary, until the task he was made for reemerges and his life upends

[infizero]

every time i so much as think about that scene where light looks at porn magazines while scowling i go into hysterics its genuinely the funniest thing i've ever seen

[whoviandoodler]

you ever go into a tag for a show or whatever and find several painstakingly created gif sets from interviews with the actors where they're just like. fully mocking fans? talking about them like they're the most despicable thing on this earth kind of bitter mocking. and on the one hand you're like, okay, i get it, fans can really be shit and get overly parasocial and think you owe them something beyond the work you created but on the other it's like. bro this makes me not want to engage with anything you do at all. ever. you don't have to sing your fans praises but you can do them the basic courtesy of professionalism and not ridiculing the entirety of everyone who both engages with your creative work and whose interest ultimately results in your paycheck.

[dropespeon]

thinking about the theory/essay i wanted to write about the inevitability of change re: leveling up in isat compared to the stagnancy of sasasap (despite the presence of a leveling system) pre-isat release. it aged both very well and not at all

[joshuamj]

i am Blind to basically anything I'm not familiar with, so i still don't know anythin about In Stars and Time. Could you give some info on it??? i am looking for games to play rn....

hmmm okay.. I will say, going in blind is best! I went in knowing literally only 3 things. 1) that it was about a timeloop, 2) that it was entirely monochrome, and 3) that this one character I had seen once was in it (Mirabelle, didn't know her name, just that she existed). And going in with such little knowledge was great, I'd highly recommend

But if you want more, then here's a bit more.. (mostly a synopsis of stuff you'll figure out early on, no major spoilers)

Obviously its a story about a timeloop! In the game, your party is a group trying to save the world from someone simply known as "the King" who is freezing the entire country in time. Interestingly, the game takes place at the end of your journey. The entire party has been assembled and have known each other, you've journeyed across the country, collected items that'll allow you to enter where the King awaits. All thats left to do is go through where he's holed up and defeat him. Also interestingly, you don't play as the protagonist of this story I've just mentioned. A girl named Mirabelle is the chosen one, blessed by her god, she is unable to be frozen in time, and has taken it upon herself to save her country. Yet, you aren't playing as her. You're playing as someone named Siffrin, just one of her party members, and one that says that they're only here because "they have nothing better to do." This should be Mirabelle's story, but you quickly realize why it isn't. Not long into the game, Siffrin's life unexpectedly comes to an end, and the fact that there's a timeloop afoot becomes apparent. Nobody but you and one strange mystery person (named "Loop" of all things) are aware of the loops. In the game you'll do all that you can to make it to the King and defeat him and keep your friends safe, no matter how many deaths, no matter how much time. But thing's aren't that simple you'll find!

Also this game is about a timeloop, so as you may guess, there's a lot of death involved so warnings for lots of death (including suicide), and also warnings for Really Bad Mental Health Stuff, as you may also guess, being trapped in a timeloop isn't good for your mental health. Check the warnings for the game if you think you may need to!