#he just fills me with (what i think is) existential dread in a good way

[cherryberrygirrl]

DECLAN MCKENNA IS SO AMAZING WHY DID I EVER STOP LISTENING TO HIM

[lordprettyflackotara]

fill the void || fred weasley

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+

It felt odd in a way, being alone for the first time.

Usually you were surrounded by your fellow Slytherins, the smell of cigarettes and cologne something your nostrils had grown accustomed to. The sound of vicious insults or bitter rants making a nest in your ears. The sight of scowls with liquor in their hands, their knuckles typically bruised and bloody.

But right now, all of that was gone. The air in the courtyard was clean, the breeze blowing past you providing you with the smell of the earth. Your sights were centered on a giant oak tree, as well as the moon that dimly illuminated the area below. It was an odd change, your surroundings being so settled. You couldn’t help but wonder what you would’ve become if you hadn’t been placed in Slytherin. Maybe yellow would’ve suited you better.

It wasn’t that you despised your housemates, even if they were a group of misfit toys. Mattheo protected you, Theo tutored you, Draco was always glued to your side. It wasn’t them that troubled you. It was what wearing the sickening shade of green meant. Submission to the dark lord. Following the ideology of pureblood nonsense. Especially being one of the only prominent girls, there was always the lingering question who’d you marry and reproduce with.

Yuck.

“Am I interrupting?”

You didn’t need to turn around. You’d recognize a Weasley’s voice anywhere. “Unfortunately not,” You admitted. You hated to admit you knew which Weasley twin it was, a lanky Fred Weasley plopping down beside you on the concrete steps. He stretched out his long legs, mere inches separating both of you. “Is there a reason you’re perched out here instead of doing shots with your friends?” Fred asked. How could you explain why? Oh yes, I am having an existential crisis because of the fact my dress is emerald. Want to go inside and split a chocolate frog?

“Where’s your other half? Didnt think you two separated,” You quipped, brushing off his question. Fred took the hint, leaning back on his hands. “Currently snogging Angelina Johnson,” He answered. This caught your attention, your head snapping to look over at him. “The chaser that wiped the floor with Blaise last season?” You asked. Sometimes you forgot how small this dreaded University actually was. Fred nodded, shrugging. “Aggressive on and off the field, just the way George likes em,” He replied.

You snorted. “Ahh yes. Makes sense a Weasley would enjoy being slutted out,” You snickered. It was too easy of a jab. Fred began to man spread, his long legs in your personal bubble. “I wouldn’t be so hasty little serpent. A few of us know how to put a brat in their place,” He smirked. The cocky motherfucker winked, heat dashing across your cheeks. You must be in a different dimension. There’s no bloody way a Weasley made you blush. “You’re cute when you blush,” Fred praised. He couldn’t help but notice how good you looked in the moonlight, the beams highlighting your features.

“Are you complimenting me Weasley?” You questioned. You avoided his gaze, trying to ignore the fact your heart skipped a beat. “Obviously not, i’m flirting with you,” Fred replied, unable to control the smile creeping across his lips. You were just so easy to tease. “What makes you think you can flirt with me?” You asked, turning your head to look over at the ginger. He shrugged, meeting your firey gaze with ease. “Perhaps it’s because we’re in the same boat, sitting out here alone in a bloody courtyard while the yule ball is less than five hundred feet away,” Fred explained. You audibly scoffed. “Weasley’s can’t afford a boat,” You spat.

Fred chuckled at your insult, your venom harmless to him. “Considering you’re out here I think it’s safe to say your boat has sank. Guess we’re on the same island together then,” He replied. You couldn’t help but find his facial expression smug. “Great,” You grumbled. You rested your chin on your knees, contemplating your life decisions. Fred sighed. “Well, if my presence really isn’t that valued i’ll relocate,” He said. He began to rise to his feet, your body doing a one eighty. You didn’t realize your hand was gripping his wrist until it was, desperately holding him in place.

“Sit down Weasley. I-,” You paused, looking up at the ginger. “I’d prefer it if you stayed.”

Fred grinned down at you mischievously, resuming his place beside you. “Figured you’d say that. Just wanted to hear you say it,” He gloated. You slapped his arm. “You’re unbearable. You know that don’t you?” You grumbled. Fred couldn’t help but laugh. Your annoyance was adorable. “You seem to like it,” He replied. You frowned as he stood up in front of you. “Do not,” You argued.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

Fred extended his hand in front of you. The faint sound of classical music could be heard over the stillness, the wind having faded out. “Care to dance?” He asked. The choice was standing right in front of you, demanding an answer. You could say no and continue moping on the stairs. You could say no and go back inside, all eyes on you once again. Or you could say yes, potentially having a good time with a boy you didn’t belong with. Dancing with a Weasley? Draco would have a field day with this one. But Fred’s hand never looked more appealing than it did in that moment.

Hesitantly you took his hand, allowing him to bring you to your feet. Even in heels he easily towered over you, the ginger not hesitating to bring you close to his chest. “You know you can drop the bad girl act with me, I won’t tell,” Fred said, guiding you back and forth. You were an awkward dancer, despite the endless ballroom dancing classes your parents put you through. “It’s not an act,” You argue. Fred looked down at you, his face painted like he knew you. Like he could see right through your hollow shell.

“Sure it isn’t. And i’m not the best prankster in Hogwarts,” He quipped. You slowly spun you around, giving you time to catch up as you almost tripped in your heels. “You’ve really got quite an ego, don’t you Weasley?” You asked. Fred grinned as he pulled you back close to him. “Thats a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” He asked. You glared up at him. “I think not,” You argued. Even though your words were laced with venom, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed his touch.

So gentle but so assertive, guiding you. Your mind strayed away, imagining him guiding you a different way. Guiding you to take his cock, to ride him until the sun came up. “Hey? Are you listening little serpent?” Fred asked, his voice coming back into frame. You blinked a few times, trying to regain your composure. “Sorry, what?” You asked. Fred slowly guided the dance to a stop, the song ending. You couldn’t help but wish it’d last forever. “I was asking what you’re thinking about,” He said.

You could feel yourself turning red, your filthy thoughts flooding to the forefront of your mind. You felt tongue tied, unable to confess your dirty fantasies. “Ohh, I see,” Fred said. You couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye, embarrassed enough to be in this position. You felt his slender fingers slide under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. You allowed him to guide you, his eyes boring into yours. You liked that, allowing him to guide you. Even if he was supposed to be bad for you, his touch put you on cloud nine.

“Do you like that? When I guide you? Take control?” Fred asked, his voice dropping an octave lower than before. You could’ve dropped to your knees in an instant. “Maybe I do,” You replied, not wanting to cave, not just yet. Fred leaned down further, pressing his lips against yours. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be, filling the void inside of you. The void that craved approval and validation. His lips provided all of that and more. He guided you towards the giant oak tree, pinning you against it.

The sharp bark scraped at your back, a groan escaping your lips as Fred’s refused to stray from yours. You raked your hands throw his hair, pulling at the roots roughly. Fred whined into your mouth, smirking as he pulled away. “Cute,” He murmured. His eyes flickered behind you, ensuring no one was around. “As much as i’d love to make you squirm, we can’t do much here,” He whispered. You pulled him back to your lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You couldn’t get enough, your body craving him.

“That eager, are we?” Fred asked, pulling you back in for another kiss. You gently bit his bottom lip, pulling it towards you. “Fuck me, at the very least Weasley,” You ordered weakly, your body betraying the attempt at dominance you were spewing. Fred grinned mischievously. “Turn around for me pretty girl,” He purred. You did as asked, his large hands pushing you against the tree. You could hear the clinking of his belt, your core throbbing in anticipation.

His large hands pushed up your dress, pulling your panties to the slide. “You’re lucky we’re in the courtyard, otherwise i’d make you beg and scream for me to fuck you,” Fred purred. You felt his tip brush up and down your folds, a moan escaping your lips. One of Fred’s hands flew to your mouth. “Gotta keep quiet little serpent. Dont want anyone to hear you being a whore for a Weasley, do you?” He taunted. He pushed himself inside of you slowly, your body feeling like it may split in two.

“You’re fuckin soaked for me,” Fred mused, placing a sloppy kiss against your shoulder. Your moans were muffled by his hand, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I’m bigger than Malfoy aren’t I?” He asked teasingly as he bottomed out inside of you. You grabbed onto his wrist, yanking it away from your mouth. “In your dreams Weasley,” You spat, whimpering as he bucked his hips ever so slightly. Fred began to suck at the side of your neck, harsh enough to leave a hickey. “Dont leave marks on me,” You argued, moaning as he began to thrust into you. Fred released your neck with a pop, satisfied as the skin began to turn purple.

“Whys that? Afraid your boy toys will find out you’ve let me in between your legs?” Fred asked, beginning to pick up the pace. His pace was brutal, his hand flying back over your mouth to muffle your sinful noises. “When they ask tell them. Tell them how I ruined you. How a Gryffindor made you cum in a courtyard like a dog in heat,” Fred huffed. He continued to viciously snap his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot with each thrust. You moaned his name into his hand, gripping one of his wrist and the tree for support.

“You’re so fucking tight, so perfect,” Fred groaned into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He removed his hand from your mouth, his hands taking their rightful place on your hips. “I’m going to make you cum on my cock. You understand me? You’re going make a mess for me,” Fred ordered. His orders were hypnotizing, your legs beginning to shake as he held onto the fabric of your dress. You could feel the knot inside of you tighten, a familiar feeling coming.

“Please make me cum Freddie, fucking please,” You pleaded, your orgasm coming faster than you’d like to admit. Fred chuckled, fucking you mercilessly against the tree. “There she is, there’s my sweet whore. Go on, cum for me,” He panted. You squeezed his wrist tightly as you came, euphoria washing over you as you came on his shaft. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out on you at any moment. You felt Fred’s hips stutter, the ginger pulling out of you.

He guided you onto the ground, your bare knees hitting the dirt below. You stuck out your tongue, allowing Fred to cum inside of your mouth. “Holy shit,” Fred moaned, watching as you swallowed every last top. You both sat there for a moment, your highs subsiding as you soaked in what you had just done.

“Hey y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna grab a butterbeer sometime?”

“Shut up Weasley.”

[strangerthanfictive]

Recognizing You Have a Fictitious Identity

An Informal Discussion Between 2 Fictive Headmates Key - Sorrel - Sorrel Accent Text - Aster - Aster Accent Text Why am I me? Why did the brain choose him out of countless other characters to make a pitiful clone of? That was the first mystery I had to solve; the homework the doc gave me. And I know it was for the best that things move fast, yeah? A head-start before I get a chance to start to feel things about this "life," these "memories" I have that are just fabrications of a broken mind. But then I also needed to recall those memories of this person that I really am (but feel like I'm suddenly inhabiting) to figure it out in the first place. I remember thinking; how in the hell am I going to go about this? Rewatch the show, and take notes whenever I feel like something aligns with our trauma? Is the doc expecting me to, like, draw up a venn diagram and bring it next week? Do I just think about the two of me—of body and fiction—and the answer will just come to me? Honestly, I didn't even think about that question for months. I asked myself why I was here moreso in the sense that I was stuck in someone else's body and needed to find a way to get home so that they could get their body back and I could get back to my family. It took me nearly a year to actually realize that we're all part of the same whole; that I took on this identity and more importantly, that I could part with it should I want to. I remember that call with our therapist very vividly. I was seeing her—"my" mother—as in, hallucinating her corpse in places nearly nightly beyond just nightmares. Her body is never explicitly shown in the comics, and our imagination filled in the blanks. I had broken down crying, and I was telling our therapist; "I'm so tired. I don't want to be him anymore!" Without hesitation, she told me,

"You don't have to be."

...And I was gobsmacked. I was thinking, What do you mean? I have all of these memories and I've held onto them for 11 months! It cannot be that simple. Ironically, just as I had that thought, I realized...yes, yes it absolutely was that simple. I did not have to subject myself to someone else's trauma—let alone someone who isn't real—when, frankly, I have my own tonterías to deal with.

I had the privilege of being your successor, being the second fictive on the block, and you told me pretty much day 1 that I don't need to have any sort of connection or feeling about my source. That of course helped, but I think it was also easier on me with it being a show. I could just look up the actor and see yeah, he's got a whole other life and other roles. On top of that, by rewatching it, I'm seeing the stuff I remember as my memories from the perspective of an omniscient camera—how I'm supposed to in the first place, and not through a character's eyes. Being a fictive of live action media VS illustration...it's no contest on what's easier to shake yourself out of.

But still, that question just loomed over me. Why him? Obviously, the doc didn't tell me I had to completely figure it out in a week, but I do love a distraction from my own existential dread challenge. So I hyperfixated on unpacking every bit of trauma this sorry bloke had to see if there were any parallels for basically every bit of free time I had. I honestly don't remember how long it took; whether I got it done in the week. I just remember the moment it clicked for me. I find it so fascinating how she handled our cases in reverse. We didn't start to unpack the "why" of my source until after I had changed my name, appearance, and age.

That might be thanks to you, mate. You didn't know any better than to treat your "memories" as real off the bat.

That's a very good point. In the event that there are more fictives in our system going forward, they may reach a point of understanding fact from fiction even quicker than you. But I digress.

I don't think I ever asked myself, "Why him?" An answer came to me without me truly seeking one out. That answer certainly explained a lot about me, but nevertheless, it just didn't occur to me to question why I took on that form. Perhaps if I had done so, I may have spared myself a lot of pain, but there's no instruction manual on how to cope with waking up in a strange body and everything you know to be your life being a work of fiction.

Well, that's the point of writing out our talks, isn't it? We're not really qualified to write, like, a whole scientific book on OSDD or the ✨plural experience✨ but we can definitely have chats about how we specifically feel and how we got to a...semi-stable place. Worst case, our thoughts go to the void. Best case, it might reach someone interested in our stories. Our real stories. Not to, you know, be confused to the ones we spawned from, haha. So if anyone actually is reading this, hi! Glad you dropped by. Let us know if you have any questions about ourselves. I think we got the ask box set up proper with anon and everything.

I think that's all for our discussion tonight. Perhaps, if we want to cover the basic aspects of being a fictive, we should speak next on grief. I briefly touched on mine already, but you have a unique perspective, Sorrel, as you've met and befriended another fictive from your source. Getting right into the angst, are we? Perhaps. But you've proposed we discuss our recovery process on this blog, and coping with grief is a sizeable portion of that process. You're right. Not chuffed about it, but you're right. We can talk about it next. Until then, I look forward seeing what happens with this chat, if anything. Good talk, mate. Good talk.

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Castiel's Hidden Pussycat

Author: Macy2me

Artist: Squirrelofcelestialintent

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Length: 38000

Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence

Tags: 1. Canon Divergent – Season 13 2. Alternate Universe 3. Castiel adopts a cat 4. Shenanigans 5. Internalized Homophobia 6. Dean is an ass 7. Cas’ grace is damaged 8. Boys being awkward 9. Sam is sick of being stuck in the middle 10. Eventual smut

Posting Date: October 20, 2023

Summary: Castiel, angel of the Lord, has been saved by a cat. He didn’t intend to keep it. He didn’t mean for the green-eyed cat to work its way into his heart. It’s becoming a bit of a theme. Yet, here he is, smuggling a cat into the bunker.   Cas and Dean have been doing a dance for nine years—circling each other, one step forward, by one step back, changing direction, never getting closer, never too far apart. However, when you throw a cat into the mix, the next move becomes a lot harder to predict. 

Excerpt: “So,” Dean says, “Cas has finally decided to settle into his room. The one we assigned him, like four years ago.” Sam looks at Cas for clarification. “Oh, I just bought a few things from the local store to liven it up. That’s all.” He looks back down at his meal, a little embarrassed, having to embellish the lie even further. Technically, he isn’t entirely lying. Livening it up could include having a live animal in there. “Unlike Hermione over here, who is still living out of a bag.” “Hey! I unpacked my books.” “Aaand, you just proved my point,” Dean says, around a mouthful of food. Sam huffs but doesn’t antagonize Dean further, for which Cas is grateful—happy to enjoy Dean’s good mood. “You’ll have to show me your room after dinner. I can have a look the next time I’m in town and see if there is anything else that might work.” An icy dread fills his chest at Dean’s words. He can’t show Dean his room. There is a cat in there, and he didn’t actually buy anything new for the room. “What did you end up getting so far?” Dean continues, oblivious to Cas’ existential crisis. The logical, reasonable part of his brain seems to have stopped working. He can’t even think of one thing he might want to add to his room. His brain is stuck on—There is a cat in my room. There is a cat in my room! I have nowhere to hide it. It won’t like being stuffed in the cupboard. It won’t be quiet, and then Dean will find it, and then he’s going to kick me out, and I’m going to be homeless, and the cat will be homeless out and… There is a smear of ketchup on Dean’s cheek. It is not that surprising, considering the amount of burger Dean insists on shoving into his mouth all at once. But, in that moment, Castiel sees his out. He redirects. “You have a little something,” Cas says, indicating with his hand on the side of his mouth, “on your cheek.” Dean’s face flushes slightly, and he wipes his cheek—the wrong one. “You missed,” Cas says, reaching out without thinking. He swipes across Dean’s cheek, collecting the red sauce on his thumb before sticking it in his mouth to lick it off. Dean freezes. Castiel freezes. Shit. Shit. Shit. What did I just do? Eyes still locked on each other. Sam clears his throat.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[medicinal-doll]

Enough.

Title: Enough.

Daddy!Ransom drysdale x little!bratty!Reader

Words: 2k

Summary: You're sick and tired of Ransoms bullshit but he's not done with you yet

Warnings: ddlg themes, headspace switch, fluff, clit play,fingering,teasing,cursing,dom/sub dynamic

A/N: Writing this wiped me out and I dont know why (p.s. Thank you guys for liking my fics it means alot!)

*Please don't repost without permission If you use my writing as inspiration please ask first and credit me

..............

"You can't talk to me like this anymore!" you huff "I'm not just one of your little fucking dolls you can do what you want with ransom" you argue at your boyfriend while he stares at you with that nonchalant glare that he knows gets your blood boiling.

"Well, thats all good and fine doll but I dont remember telling you that you could fucking leave me"

"I'm done listening to you ransom" you turn around on your heels and storm out of the room.

"You wont get far~" he says in a sing song tone

"Shove it up your ass hugh!" you shout back

......

You find yourself at your apartment, and the fact that ransom bought it for you last year doesn't ease your anger. you sigh and slide down the wall filled to the brim with frustration. "God why does he have to be such A fucking dick all the time" you grumble.

In your wallowing you hear your phone buzz

"Hey girl!, where are you at?"

"Um... I'm at my apartment why?" you respond confused

"Are you seriously skipping out on my party!?" "I even said you could bring your rich asshole boyfriend "

Shit, you had forgotten all about her birthday party. the fight fogged up your thoughts so you didnt even get the chance to tell ransom about it.

"Yeah Um... No, I'll definitely be there don't worry" you say grabbing your keys and heading out the door.

"You better be...."

.........

"Hey!sorry I'm late" you embrace your friend in A warm hug.

"Girl don't even trip I'm just glad you made it"

"Hey where's your boyfriend?" She asks curiously

"Yeah about that I...."

"Right here!" ransom says waving a hand with sunglasses over his eyes. And his usual cocky smile, which normally would charm you but after the fight it makes your stomach turn.

Your stand there stunned with a surprised look on your face "oh and I got this for you" he hands her a flashy bag. probably containing some overpriced luxurious item "Can't forget the birthday girl" he says with A smile and your friend laughs "you know what ransom I knew you weren't so bad " your friend leaves to put her gift on the table.

Ransom meets your shocked eyes with an unreadable expression and the faintest tinge of a smile.

"Hey honey, did you miss me"

You scoff and walk off to find A drink. With ransom around, there's no way you're getting through this party sober.

You reach your hand towards the ladle to fill your red cup with the vodka punch. But ransom swoops up beside you grabbing the items from your hand, And makes your drink for you. He then he royally bows before offering the drink to you with both hands.

"My lady~" He says with a smirk and mischievous eyes

Your face scrunches up in annoyance "If you think this is gonna make up for this morning, you're dumber than you look"

You snatch the drink from his hands and walk off to another room

Ransom laughs to himself "there's my little grumpy bear..."

....

A short time later you find yourself in the living room leaning against the cream painted white walls, knee deep in a silly debate amongst friends.

Until you hear an ear catching clink ring out in the room.

As heads start to turn you smile in an excitement eager to hear the usual hilarious birthday speech.

Your eyes land on the speaker in question, and a sense of existential dread robs you of your mood and cheerful smile.

"Excuse me ladies, gentlemen" "and birthday girl" ransom gestures to your friend.

"I only require your attention for a few quick moments" he says as he slowly inches closer towards you, and you instinctively mold your back against the wall fearing what ransom has to say.

"My love" he leans down and kisses your hand, but you feel awkward when he doesn't let go "These past years we've been together have been absolutely beautiful"

"And with that I only have one thing to say"

Ransom gets down on one knee and you feel your spirit leave your body from the embarrassment.

"Honey will you marry me"

"I think I'm gonna be sick" you say to yourself then rush out of the room running upstairs into the first bathroom and puke your guts out in the toilet.Shortly after you hear footsteps then feel A presence behind you.

Comforting hands find themselves grabbing your hair holding it away from your face, While a soothing hand rubs small circles along your back.

When you get done spilling your guts you're drained mentally and physically. Between being mad at ransom,attending the party, and throwing up. your energy was gone, with your brain out of order for the rest of the evening.

"You're alright sweetie you're okay "ransom says in that caring tone reserved only to you his little girl. you feel your mental state start to slip ,so you turn around and cling onto ransom wrapping your hands around his neck and hiding your face in his shoulder curling up into him.

"Cmon princess let's get you home and get you cleaned up

You nod silently into him feeling too small to talk.

Ransom understands this and how you can go mute when you're feeling especially tiny, and he picks you up carrying you downstairs.

"Hey ransom what the hell was that" your friend questions and you squeeze tighter onto him. Ransom just rolls his eyes and her eyes land on you "Hey you okay girl?" ransom does not have the patience for this questioning in general, but his short temper drops to almost nothing when it comes to caring for his babygirl.

"She's fine" "thanks for the party" ransom answers shortly before storming out the front door to his ridculousy expensive car.

Not even 5 minutes into the car ride you're out like a light head bobbing up and down, drool threatening to spill from your pouty lips and ransom has a warm hand on your leg as he admires your cuteness.

You reach home and now its ransoms favourite part, waking you up. you're so bratty when woken up from a nap. you just get the nastiest little attitude just cause you're sleepy. It's like you turn into A little ransom jr. with your potty mouth.

"Gorgeous wake up we're home" ransom gently shakes your body, and you frown turning your face away from him snuggling more into the seatbelt. ransom sighs and unbuckles you "Cmon princess be good and let daddy take care of you"

"No...." you pout to yourself ransom laughs finding your behaviour cute and picks you up bridal style softly cooing at you so you dont throw a fit and heads inside.

.......

Ransom sits on the stool in the bathroom with you sleepily tucked in his strong arms, while the warm bath water runs with your favorite soap and bath bomb to entice you in.

"Time to get undressed little one" ransom says as he grabs the hem of your dress slowly lifting it up you squirm away and try to push his hands off you with what little strength you have.

"Be good..." Ransom says in A warning tone but that only rouses you from your sleepy state even further. Gaining some of your big girl strength back you struggle against his prying hands with more vigor.

"Ow!" Ransom delivers A harsh slap to your backside which make you regress back into little girl space, and you sniffle softly as ransom removes your clothing.

After your pink panties hit the floor ransom stands with you in his arms and goes to set you in the warm water "Daddy no!" You cling onto his neck for dear life and ransom giggles silently to himself "glad to see you're finally awake honeybun" "but you gotta get in the bath so daddy can get you all clean okay pretty girl" your fight leaves your body at his praises but you still hold onto him.

"Baby" his voice darkens and you quietly tremble at the change of his tone

"You've been pretty fucking bratty to your owner today" he says as he threateningly caresses your bum "All that big girl mouth you gave to me this morning and at the party" he places a kiss to your temple and lowers his mouth to your ear "So don't take my kindness as forgiveness honey your still gonna get your punishment"

Your eyes widen at the buzzword " No papa! Not A punishment anything but that!"

You whine into his shoulder "M'sorry" ransom comfortingly pats your butt

"Well then you can start by getting in the bath like your daddy told you to hun" you whimper and slowly lower a leg down into the bubbly warm water and ransom follows your movement by slowly easing you down into the tub.

You give into the warm sensation and instantly relax "close your eyes baby" ransom fills a cup with the warm water with a fresh rosy aroma and delicately pours it over your head, you look up at ransom with innocent eyes "Daddy... Are you mad at me?" you question as he scrubs your back being suprisingly careful with you, ransom pauses for a second in thought..

"You know I'll always love you honey no matter how hard of a time you give me" ransom leans in and peppers your face with kisses and you giggle.

You tilt your head in confusion as he reaches for something from the counter.

He holds the toothbrush in front of your face and squeezes the minty paste onto the bristles "open up for me hun" you slightly part your mouth and ransom sticks the toothbrush in, bristles slowly gliding over your teeth.

When ransoms done, he grabs a cup and begins filling it with water then holds it to your face "swish this around and spit it back in the cup for me dolly"

you follow his instructions swishing the liquid around before letting it all go back into the cup "good girl" he ruffles your wet hair, then ransom pulls the bath stopper from the tub and turns his attention back to you.

"Alright cutie arms up" you lift them and ransom wraps the baby pink towel snug against your form, and picks you up.you lean into him as water from your hair drips onto his shirt.

........

Ransom sits down on the edge of the bed with you in his lap. a few minutes pass as your eyes flutter open and closed every now and then. until you feel A hand grab a hold of the soft flesh of your thigh and roughly part your legs. you look at ransom in curiosity and go to speak but A firm hand clasps itself around your mouth.

Ransoms fingers dance around your inner thigh inching dangerously close to your princess parts "Daddy?" You try to say but it gets muffled by ransoms big hand "Shhh princess, you didn't think I'd forgotten about you punishment did you?" ransoms fingers brush over your clit and an indescribable chill runs up your spine and you whimper.

"I know you're tired baby so daddy's gonna take it easy on you" he starts moving his index finger in slow circles around the hood of your clit and you try to shake his hand from your mouth, but it's not budging "All I need is A sincere apology from you hun" "And daddy's gonna play with your little girl button until he gets it, okay sweetness?" He removes his hand from your mouth panting lightly ,and you yelp when he pinches your clit between his fingers "I wanted an answer to that baby"

"yes daddy..." you whimper softly and he slaps your clit "Ah!" You cry out "louder doll I couldnt hear you" "Yes! Papa!" You whine and hide your face in to his shoulder softly breathing in his intoxicating cologne "Good girl, Now tell daddy how sorry you are for your behaviour today" he says as he rolls your clit between his thumb and index finger

"Daddy I'm sorry..." he pauses his motions "for what honey" he says blankly

"F-for...um.." "Ah!" Another harsh slap hits your clit and ransom speeds his fingers up rubbing your clit at a mind numbing pace "Silly little girl doesn't even know what she's apologizing for" you barely hear what he is saying as your eyes water at the pleasure between your legs.

ransom senses this and leans his head down to your ear and speaks to you in that low dominant voice he knows gets you worked up "Babydoll.." your ears perk up "If you cum before I get my apology, I'll beat your ass red and raw till you scream how sorry you are" "Daddy doesn't have to do that right? Or is someone still feeling disobedient....."

"No! I'll say it please..." he slows down his ministrations and you sniffle "Go on honey, daddys listening"

"M'sorry daddy"

"For?" He questions

"F-for being A bad girl and being bratty to you"

"Aww see hun, that wasn't so bad was it" he wipes the tear that threatens to fall from your eye and kisses your head "daddy forgives you bunny...." ransom says as he dives two thick fingers into your juicy cunt and starts moving them up towards your g spot, and you scream "Daddy!" As you moan in pleasure and involuntarily writhe your body against him.

Ransoms fingers brush up against A certain sensitive spot and your mind goes blank "Ah- No! I said it daddy you promised!!" You sob into his shoulder "You were so naughty for me baby" He coos as he glides his fingers over that place sparking fireworks in your belly "trying to leave your daddy baby why honey"

You slip further into your small state as high pitched moans leave your mouth head too fuzzy to respond "Has daddy not been nice enough to you hm?" "Maybe I need to start babying you more honey"

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you mutter his name again and again in a trance of pleasure "Cmon sweet girl cum for daddy so I can put you to bed" Ransom adds A third finger into your soaked pussy and rubs your clit in small circles with the other.

"Go on honey give daddy your orgasm, drench my hands and lap with that little princess cunt"

"Its not a princess cunt!" You whine at him feeling bratty again from his teasing "Aw baby yes it is, it's so wet and so tiny all for me" he lifts your head up to kiss your face, you blush and shy away from him hiding in his shoulder again to pout.

Ransom brushes over your clit one last time, and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle A loud cry as your body convulses around him. ransom runs a soothing hand up and down your waist slowly coaxing you through your orgasm, and slows down his fingers inside of you.

when your breath stills and you stop shaking ransom takes his fingers out of you with A pop. you lift your head up to look at him, and you see him lick every last drop of your cum from his fingers like it's his last meal. Then he delivers A sickeningly sweet kiss to your lips, but you pull away and look down in guilt.

"what is it darling" he asks as he rocks you gently back and forth "M'not ready to get married..." you look up at him through your bambi lashes, and he just laughs recalling the events from a few hours ago.

"I wasn't serious hun, I know you're not ready to marry me yet" "Would be nice though" he kisses your cheek as your expression fills with uncertainty "then why did you propose in front of all those people?"

"I dont know, I guess I thought that it would make you change your mind about leaving...."

"You made yourself look like a fool for me?" You quirk up at him and Ransom laughs giving you the gentlest kiss on your lips "Over and over again doll" he whispers to you.

"You got the spoiled little rich boy wrapped around your finger" he sighs and you giggle

"I was never gonna leave you daddy, I was just tired of you bossing me around all the time..."

"I'm sorry angel, you want me to stop babying you so much?"

You giggle at him and kiss his nose

"No daddy, I'll always be your little girl" you smile at him and he grins right back at you "Okay doll, time for bed" Ransom places one last kiss on your forehead before picking you up leaving the room to get his girl in her pj's and tucked into bed.

[ilynpilled]

this is an incoherent and unedited stream of consciousness but what i also take away from the whole process of mythmaking in the series is that it is in dialogue with the meta in such an interesting way.

ofc the series itself is a ‘song’. it is about stories and their power. it is about seeking meaning in fantasy. thrones alluded to this with the ending but it fumbled pretty hilariously at it. but i think there is an interrogation of truth inside of this whole dialogue. like a false ideal presented in fiction vs ‘truth’ in fiction. propaganda vs meaningful humanistic existential depth etc. jaime is a very existential character. he wants to make himself into a story. he wants to make his life have meaning because he dreads his existence and himself as a human being. he has one of the most severe existential crises in the series. “why would the stars want to look down on such as me?” is that. the stump is about an empty space that he needs to fill. it is about severing a previous identity, it is a metaphor for so many things in his life. but he in particular has such a layered relationship with stories and how they function and what his role in them is. he hates lies. he hates songs and stories for lying to him. he hates the story that he became, it destroyed his identity. and yet after hope is rekindled he once again desperately grasps for an unachievable false ideal to redefine his existence so he can stop hating himself. i reiterate, a figure like “arthur dayne” is as much of a lie as “kingslayer.” like these are all lies or incomplete truths. there is no goldenhand the just either, just the ugliness of a stump, as he subconsciously concludes in the dream in affc. human beings are more complicated than myths. so i cannot help but think that the whole idea of legacy in jaime’s story is more about the eyes of the reader and himself and certain characters rather than the eyes of the world that he is in. that feels like such a rich metatextual mess that works so well thematically. deconstructing and reconstructing the knight from the stories. what i find interesting is that the songs and myths within asoiaf are also often about ‘dehumanizing’ the subjects, but the series itself at its foundation is about thoroughly humanizing its characters. the songs are about interpretation, and they are not meant to be defining or all encompassing. they can often present a false reality that upholds a status quo rather than depicting truth. but they can also hold some universal truth in their depths that humanity can thrive for. that feels like a very intentional conversation the text is having with itself and its genre.

anyways yeah he is deeply concerned with ‘legacy’ and what mark he will leave. what the whole point of his existence was. he wants to redefine his existence, and he is desperate to make that definition something redeemable. i generally view the whole process of redemption and reformation as something unanswered and continuous. being better is not something you just “become” to me. it is not about being a bad or good person deep down, i do not think that is at all how george views human beings, it is about choices you make and keep making. with a character like jaime it should not be something that clearly and straightforwardly concludes with a simple answer. being better is a choice that has to be made every day. i have said that i am not that fond of the redemptive heroic death thing because again that is not something he is afraid of in the text, it feels very straightforward, and it is something he craves because in some ways he thinks meaning lies in that, not even a heroic death but just death where he dies with a sword in his hand. and yeah it is easier for him because it is simpler than confrontation and the grueling untangling of knots. fighting things physically is easier. being defeated physically is less scary. but i do not necessarily mind it if he dies eventually after key confrontations and some form of meaningful atonement and a form of existential victory. i do certainly get the feeling from the text that his life is on a timer right now and he has to make do and atone with the time that he has left. he is an older generation character that is attempting to actually redefine his existence, not just make something out of it like many of the other protagonists dealing with identity. but i cannot help but really dig the idea that george could be subverting that aspect of his character and he might conclude with the open and difficult reality that redefinition and reformation and redemption is not as straightforward as just ending your story on a better note and leaving a decent legacy. it could be about having to live with your flawed humanity and what you are as a whole and continuing on an unending inconclusive path of change anyway. that is more difficult and real, and accepting that reality requires existential courage.

songs are songs. jaime hates being a dehumanized figure. the kingslayer is like a figure from a song. much of the core of his character is that he is a human being that was in many ways ruined by being turned into a larger than life figure and myth. he is the villain and monster in the songs and stories. and that is the role he fulfills in the series up until this point too. during asos he realizes he wants to be the hero again like he used to dream as a young boy (the dream was always lingering, that romantic soul never really goes away, much of the JC dynamic for him is rooted in that fantasy, this idea of creating a false ideal: a song, something that gives his existence meaning). he thinks these things have meaning again in a deeper and more conscious way. but the series is not simple like the songs in it, it goes inside of the heads of these figures and it contextualizes them. how you are remembered by history is ultimately out of your control. again, those songs are not really ‘truth’. jaime deals with this so much. he is trying to write a story right now: a story that he chooses. that is what the white book is about. but he explicitly says he would rather slash it into pieces than fill it with lies. he keeps repeating he is sick of lies, which is a loaded statement concerning so many things in his arc. and the white book page is meant to represent his existence. i would like it if the whole idea of how jaime is remembered is more about the meta rather than an in universe thing. i would not mind jaime leaving a “bad legacy”. i do not think it matters how the songs remember him. what matters is where he actually ends up as a human being and what paths he had taken. i like it more as a conversation between him and the reader primarily. maybe the “heroes will always be remembered: the best and the worst and a few who were a bit of both - one of us is like to live in song etc.” is more about the impression of the reader, and the song is the series itself. that whole passage is very unsubtly meta anyway, we are supposed to point at him as we are reading the page, just as he points at the kingmaker. i am sure he is gonna be a figure that lives in song within the text too, i just do not think that is really about truth or what is ultimately defining for his story. like i would find it poignant if his legacy is a mixed bag or even a not particularly good one in history, and if he is never contextualized or redefined in the eyes of his world, but that will not change the reality of his actual story that we get to witness through his eyes and the eyes of other key characters. it makes it more meaningful to me bc then it becomes about an internal existential battle rather than an external one. and we know it is deeper than that for him already: “he did not think the maesters were like to confuse him with Prince Aemon the Dragonknight when they wrote their histories. Still, he felt curiously content.” i think his existential victory should be internally driven rather than defined by an uncontrollable external lens that often falsifies reality anyways, and never understood the people that thought him regaining his “honor” in the lens of westeros is what his arc’s interrogation of redemption is about. affc deconstructs that for him. like that is what his story arc played with a lot already. and his atonement is more about specific relationships with specific characters, not the eyes of history. what history hates him for is one of the most heroic acts in the series, that is not what has to be addressed and reformed.

what is also apparent to me at this point is that asoiaf doesn’t really have concrete conclusions and all encompassing rigid answers concerning the concepts that it interrogates. like obviously the characters have a different view of things. there are distinct philosophies that can all be reasonable and can contradict each other. there is a certain amount of relativism that is inherent to the structure of the story. george is giving the reader a bunch of perspectives, and allows them to decide for themselves. he is not gonna hold your hand and give you a straightforward answer on most things. take for example the whole:

"Are you saying you are monsters?"

"I am saying we are human. You are not the only one with wounds, Lady Brienne. Some of my brothers were good men when this began. Some were ... less good, shall we say? Though there are those who say it does not matter how a man begins, but only how he ends.” (this one especially is very tied to Jaime considering who it is said to and where and when etc)

vs

“A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad act the good. Each should have its own reward.”

and many many other statements made by different characters at different stages and said to different protagonists dealing with the same question.

what i am trying to say with all of this is that i do not really have a preferred concrete endgame in that sense nor do i expect george to give a clear answer to certain questions proposed in his arc, but i do have certain conceptual preferences. i do not want him to end up “rewarded” or absolved, i think a lot of people project that onto people arguing that his arc is about redemption and an interrogation of redemption. idk if i would really like his story ending with him dying and then history remembering him as an “honorable” man because a passage written in the white book by a person he saved like in the show. i guess it is not that bad because it was obviously not his intention or goal by the end, but still. the only thing i really want for him is a well written existential victory, which is not really about absolution to me. he has been in a state of existential defeat and cowardice for like 20 years, locking himself into moral nihilism and false fantasies as a result of the incoherent moral structures of his world and his trauma and dissociative tendencies and rage over how he is understood. i just do not want his story to end with that again. that is what i would view as cynical and “pointless” and cyclical in an empty way. like i am not sure i want key decisions that may lead to tragedy to be self sabotage either. i want it to be a choice with meaning to him. i think it would be along the lines of accepting and confronting truth and reality and not letting hope be defeated by it, and continuing to believe that choices hold meaning despite it all.

[prince-toffee]

A New Breed of Rose

Blaze didn't pretend to understand what Silver did or how he did it. Timetravel was a complex and tiring subject to try to understand. She wasn't even sure Silver fully understood how it worked. He once told her that 'Timetravel in itself was breaking the rules. The more you timetravel, the less the rules apply to you.' That was as much as her brain could comprehend form that conversation. He didn't speak often about his timetraveling escapades, never wanted to worry her with threats he faced or with the existential dread the duty made him face on a near day to day basis. Fixing the future, futures - was difficult, and it weighed heavily on his mind. But never his heart. He always returned the same naive goofy Silver. Always came back to her, for her. So when Silver told her off handedly that he began to cultivate a garden at the end of time she just kinda dismissed it as another part of background white noise, another unimaginable feat too big for moral minds to comprehend, that sort of stuff, heard it all the time. She didn't think much of it - until, her birthday.

It was a long day for the cat, the morning filled with mundane, mind-numbing meetings and mountains of paperwork. The rest of the day was arguably worse. The Princess' birthday was officialy categorised as a national holiday. Which meant massive preparations, parades, parties, festivals in the streets, firework shows, and Blaze was forced to attend all of it. She didn't mind the holiday part, she was glad to see her people enjoying themselves and celebrating each other's company. But it was all made to be about her, people were obliged to come up to her and wish her health and fortune and bow before her. Rich benefactors from across the isles sent gifts and riches all to sleaze their way into her good graces. Occasionally even asking for her hand in marriage. She scoffed everytime. She just threw the presents away. It all made her feel so uncomfortable. She'd usually manage to stomach it all with Silver at her side to distract her. But Silver was unfortunately busy, away in some distant timeline stopping five different timestreams from colliding into each other, whatever that meant. The day dragged on, it was the longest day of her life, quite literally as Blaze was born on the longest day of summer. But eventually, she was let go and ventured back to her bed chambers, exhausted, all that was on her mind was the softness of her bed and a good night's sleep. But a different type of softness met her as she opened the door to her room.

A quilled figure framed against moonlight, with their fur shimmering beautifully stood in her room. Silver had returned, and barely in one piece. She quickly rushed to him, cupping his face in her hands as she looked over him. A plaster across his nose. A scar running across his lips. A black eye, he could barely open. His whole body covered in bandages, cuts and bruises everywhere. He was even missing a tooth on his upper right side! Blaze was horrified. But Silver just smiled sheepishly, fully presenting his missing tooth. "Happy Birthday, Blazey." He said deep and low, almost a murmur, the feline noticed a bruise around his neck.

"Silvy, by The Sol Emeralds what happened to you?!"

"I'm not too late am I? For your birthday? I'd feel horrible if I was." He seemingly ignored the question. "I tried to get back sooner, but the chronometre in my suit must've malfunctioned in the quantum storm, I lost the track of time, literally, ha ha." He laughed as he realised he accidently made a pun.

"No, what happened to you, you're hurt! Who hurt y- Are those arrows sticking out of your back?!" Yes they were.

"Oh, yeah, that last sun-eater came out of nowhere. Anyways," He remarked non-chalontly, "I got you something." Only then did Blaze realise Silver was holding a long white box in his hands. He brought her a present.

"Silver, you-- you didn't have to. Just set it aside and let me look you over." She began to drag him by his shoulders towards her bed.

"Please, at least open it first, I worked really hard on it." She turned back to face him. His face was still smiling sheepishly. It set her heart a flutter, for a split second her irises lit up in a fiery orange glow before being subdued by Blaze's willpower.

She gently took hold of the rectangular lid of the box and lifted it. Inside the box, laying on a golden silk pillow, was a rose. But not like any kind of rose Blaze had ever seen. It was beautiful. She stared at it a moment. "Can I?" What was she asking, of course she could, it was her present. Silver nodded happily. Blaze carefully took the rose by the stem and brought it closer to her face, she twirled it, examining it from all angles. She was mesmerised. In all honesty Blaze couldn't quite comprehend what she was seeing. The stem of the rose was a dark purple with crytaline thorns at its sides. The petals were as if she was looking out into outerspace through a telescope. They were moving, something was moving, and shimmering. The closest thing she could have compared it to was a nebula, the reminants of a supernova, like The Pillars of Creation, which she only saw in her study books when she was younger. The petals looked almost like glass, like a window through which she was viewing the nebula. But there was something else moving. Little specks of dust circling around the petals. Their movements choreographed as they followed the path of thin circles surrounding the flower. Blaze squinted. She looked closer. And she was shocked at what she saw! They were orbital cycles! And those weren't specks of dust, or pollen, they were planets! Blaze pulled back. She was holding a solar system in her hands.

"Do you like it? It's a replica of our solar system."

"It's beautiful, Silver. But how-"

"Well, remember when I said I was cultivating a garden at the end of time? It's one of those! It's what I've been working on for the past few... wwwweeks? Time is funny sometimes. I know you don't like presents or your birthday, but it just felt wrong not celebrating it. You're the most important person in my life. I feel like I always have to show you how much I really appreciate everything you've done for me. I was going to get you something small, because I know you don't like big gifts, but when I get started and I get an idea, you know, I give it 110%. And I thought, hey, you like to help me out in the garden sometimes so maybe-- I'm rambling, sorry. Point: it's a new breed of rose..." His markings began to light up, his equivalent of a blush, "I was going to call it The Blaze. But that might be too... sappy."

She simply smiled and softly nudged him with her shoulder, "I think that's what you excell at." Her golden eyes returned to the flower, "Honestly, Silver, you do too much." She said with a giddy smile.

Silver's own smile disappeared for a moment as his mind flashed to a dream he half remembered, a nightmare that haunted him for years now, it was so vivid and realistic, like a memory of something he once lived. But it couldn't be. Fire. Ruin. Her leaving him. An ultimate sacrifice. "... I feel like I don't do enough." The joy in his eyes dulled and his head bowed down, looking at the floor. Another intrusive thought. He hated those. Maybe his pills were wearing off, he should've probably taken some more by now. He forgot again. Idiot. Idiot.

A soft yet strong hand lifted his chin up, her thumb running across the scar on his lips. She made sure their eyes locked again.

She spoke softly and husky, the way he liked, "Thank you, Silvy."

He shook a little. But he musttered up the strength to respond, "Thank you, for giving me a life worth coming back to."

"Alright, alright, you're using hyperbole again. You know I can't take complements. Let's get you looked at, and... let's get those arrows out of you. And I'll find a nice vace for this rose."

"Thank you, Blaze, I mean it."

"I know. Well, to let you know, no, you're not late, it's 11:52. It's still my birthday. And it's alright if you did miss it, I know you're busy too. Though it is nice to have you back so soon. I hate it when you leave for months on end. I always worry, that you might get lost out there, that you won't find your way back to me. "

"Aww, but, I'll always come back to you, Jalapeno." He remarked cutely. Blaze immediately turned away from him and began to drag him to the bed again. She had a first aid kit in her nightstand, that was just her life. That pet name. It drove her crazy. So stupid. So naive. It filled her with embarrassment, her body heat skyrocketing, her willpower barely holding back the flames from bursting from her fur. Yet she never told him to stop calling her that. If anyone else ever dared to call her that they'd be dead in seconds. But hearing that come from him... She'd allow it. "Ugh, shut up, and sit down. You're so naive."

[nilboxes]

Can i just...drop in and say THANK YOU for writing ratio the way you do in your fics...i mean, thank you for sharing your writing GENERALLY because i think it's got such a beautiful, dark, alluring vibe to it all and you really do aven and ratio soooo much justice (which is, sadly, something quite rare to see in what i've experienced of this fandom so far). but ratio especially because ive seen so many bad takes on him recently and coming across your works has been literally therapeutic. i mean, on some level i don't blame people for not grasping his personality, but some of the takes are just so atrociously off the mark and idiotic that...augh, seeing them fills me with dread fr fr. sorry to not be in the presence of mind to point out the details of what i like abt your portrayal of him - this is just me expressing my thanks for your cooking, from one ratio appreciator to another.

Hello Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words 😭 and you're welcome! It's really nice to hear that my love for Dr Ratio is shining through, because I really really really really do love him to bits and pieces (I call him my princess haha), he's so driven and so kind and yet he seems like a lonesome figure despite his big heart because he stands sooo apart from everyone, being a class of his own and yet AJHDJAKSHD urghh (and Aventurine is the same, they are both such loner, alienated types and they have found each other and it makes my heart soar so hard)

I know what you mean about their characterization and the bad takes I really cannot 😭 like people can do what they want really but it makes me sad that very complex characters seem harder to grasp and so it's easier to just put into vastly cut and dried stereotypes for a ship and seem to have waaay more traction, but these fics are somewhat personally self-indulgent in that they are my canon companion/adjacent pieces for myself to fully enjoy the game and these wonderfully complex characters some more 🤣. I'm so glad and lucky there are at least a few people who have been very vocal about their enjoyment of them, which makes them all worth it in the end! It's still nice to hear and still really gives me such a boost that I'm writing with takes that resonate with others too.

and the only thing I can really do is write fics (I still got a lot more Aventio me I think!) and possibly essays about them (I am formulating a Ratio essay with regards to his feelings regarding being overlooked by Nous in relation to the philosophies of Sartre, Heidegger regarding existential Abandonment by "god" and of course Nietzche which seems like a HYV fave as much as mine) in order to just slowly combat it. They really are super challenging to grasp like sometimes I feel like I have to explore only one side of their characters for a piece because I've got so much thoughts about them I would like to express in action and ahhh

Anyway I have rambled a lot, but thank you so much Anon, writing about Ratio grief for Etiam part 2 is taking a lot out of me and this was quite a great perk-me-up! I just hope to deliver good food soon in thanks ♥♥♥

[shkrimpies]

The Ring (Extra Credit 4/8)

Bruh.

Maybe I've become spoiled with this class, but I really enjoyed the original film "Ringu" SO MUCH MORE than the American adaptation.

The Ring itself is a fine movie, but because it is a remake of such a film, it had some very large shoes to fill. To some extent, it absolutely did fulfill its task, however, in some aspects, it fell very flat.

For some of the positives, the effects and physical presentation of The Ring are really cool. The blue-gray filter overtop the film helps set the mood, and the way Samara climbs through the TV and just *TV statics* around is SO COOL, and she's like, spilling water everywhere...omg heckin' good.

The lore of Samara's ghost was really nice, it felt more flushed out. (The horse scene was crazy)

HOWEVER, a lot of the nuance and themes were either partially ignored or completely removed from the American film, and because of that, the remake feels so much more...empty.

The American version focuses more on the logistics and causes of the curse, rather than the existential dread that the original derives most of its horror from. Analog horror was usurped for more jump scares, and while still "scary," it's much less fun.

Removing the dead cousin's spirit from communicating with her son to watch the tape was pointless in my opinion. in The Ring, the son had watched the tape because he was bored, but in the original, he was visited by his cousin's ghost. I don't understand why they did that, considering they made the child a psychic in this version, and not the father. Having the son see the ghost would make more thematic sense in my opinion (but hey what do I know I'm not a director)

I also think having Samara's eyes visible as often as they were removed the overall intensity of her as a monster. In Ringu, you only see her eyes once, and because of that, it's so much more dramatic and intense, rather than in The Ring where they try to recreate that emotion, but because you had seen her eyes in the interrogation and in other scenes, it's less impactful.

This is not to say that the film itself is bad, stand-alone The Ring is really good and an interesting way to depict lingering dread. However because it is a direct adaptation to Ringu, it loses a lot of it's charm.

//I wanted to cry because I had my dad watch Ringu with me on Friday and he told me that The Ring is better. He's totally allowed to think that, but like, i disagree

[lavellenchanted]

Fic writer asks! 4, 31, 48?

4. what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

Jumping straight into the deep end, I see! Well, to answer the second part first - I do generally jot down most of the plot bunnies that stick with me for a while, even if it's just a sentence or two, but the WIPs do tend to then languish in my docs and drafts for years.

For example the Girl Meets World Lucaya fic I've posted a few snippets of is something that's been turning around in my head since about 2016, I've had the start of a Critical Role Fjorester AU of Treasure Planet in my docs since 2017 or 2018, and the Thor/Sif Endgame AU I finally started posting I initially started thinking about after watching Infinity War for the first time.

I guess there are two that I've definitely been carrying for a while that I haven't written anything for and they are:

A Jyn/Cassian AU of The Shop Around the Corner with some bonus Han/Leia - the general premise being that Jyn starts working at a small independent shop Cassian's been working at since he was a teenager and despite an initial attraction they immediately butt heads and an intense rivalry develops between them, unaware that they're also each other's anonymous pen-pals. Cassian's also under additional stress because the shop's owner, Bail Organa, who he's always gotten along with suddenly seems to hate him for no apparent reason, because he doesn't realise that Bail suspects him of secretly dating his daughter.

A Final Fantasy 7 Clerith AU of Your Name, with Cloud as the small town boy from Niebelheim and Aerith in Midgar swapping places with each other in their dreams, only for Cloud to realise they're actually three years apart and Aerith died in a disaster when one of Midgar's plates fell - but now he's got one more shot to save her life.

I wouldn't say I'm filled with existential dread when I think about why I haven't started writing them, more existential despair because I know even if I start the chances of me finishing them are like not good.

31. tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

I always enjoy writing Peggy Carter - I feel like I've written her so much now that it's really easy to slip into her voice and get into the flow of writing her. And she's really fun because she's smart and capable but can be really snarky at times, and she does it in a very British way that is always a delight for me because it's so familiar.

48. do you reread your own stories?

Yes, I do! I like reminding myself that I do actually enjoy my own writing and I'm good at it. Although I'm always wishing this bitch would update like, god, why does she have so many half finished stories?

fic writer asks

[mbrainspaz]

ok I worked out another thing that's been stressing me out about this work situation. My main coworker has been gone and the boss refused to let me work overtime and then just... didn't really do anything to fill the gap, right? Today when I brought up my concerns about the stuff being neglected she was all "why didn't you just say so?" Ma'am?! Why didn't I simply explain to you, a person who skipped the meeting we were supposed to have to figure this out & who has no idea how to do my job, exactly how to do my entire job... via text message? On my time off??? aaaaah?! But I couldn't express that so in the moment I was just like, "well someone should probably feed these two horses at this time and start the sprinklers in these specific paddocks." She was like, "oh... that's all?" And I felt like an idiot for even bringing it up when she put it like that—but no actually that's not all. This is why I can't just do meetings and talk this stuff out! I can't process all the subtext and all the angles in the moment. I could tell I was deeply upset about how she'd handled the situation but I couldn't fully explain why. It was because not only did she tell me not to do the work that needed doing and repeatedly downplay my concerns, she still expected me to run the business by proxy—or she just didn't care if the work didn't get done. The closest I got to actually expressing my frustration was when I said, "you know I've been working half-days for the last three days—what did you think was going to happen? I'm never out there just doing nothing. Things haven't been getting done. I asked to be allowed to do it and you said no. You said you would do it, but you didn't know what needs to be done." And she said, "That's why I need you to tell me. It's all about communication." No! NO! That's why you should have let me do my damn job. Now she wants me to take tomorrow off and it's just gonna be the two kids and the temp guy working with the old guy who doesn't even technically work here?!? She keeps texting me trite things like 'I value you' but it's so transparent I can barely see it. If she understood a thing about me she wouldn't bother. I know she's annoyed with me. I'm annoyed with me.

She didn't give me a coherent schedule all week so I had to make up my own where I was working 4 half days in a row and she just.... nobody cared that nobody was here to run the business all afternoon for FOUR DAYS. If I hadn't gone in on my 'free' time to feed one of the old horses he'd probably be deceased by now. I mean the old guy stepped up and helped a lot but nobody else knows how to run the whole barn all day. Nobody else CARES.

So yeah it's my bad for not busting down her office door 7 days ago and giving her step by step instructions on how to run this business and manage a bunch of green employees I don't have the power to schedule. AAAAAAH! I hate that every time I meet with her I have to be so focused on being calm and professional and normal that she just steamrollers me with her reasonable demeanor and talk about all the things she's trying to do to make this place run right—if only she had more time and wasn't sooooo busy managing way too many other more important things. That's absolutely not my problem. I can't tell her how to do her job. And she couldn't tell me how to do mine if she tried. And I'm like, fine—pay me to just take care of it all! I'm good at caring. I could run this place if they'd just LET me. They keep leaving me to cope with endless problems they won't let me solve. I don't even want the responsibility. I don't really need more money from them. Apart from the existential dread slowly driving me towards a manic breakdown I've had a great time this week actually having free time to work on my art. I started editing a new video for the first time in 2 years! I'm just glad I didn't overwork myself for them just to get in trouble for it again. Well, except for the 3-4 extra hours I spent doing a little this or that here and there just to make sure nobody died. How could I ever explain that to someone who happily works in an office for a soulless, faceless, money-gobbling, lifeforce-devouring, bystander-crushing unstoppable gestalt entity that is a management corporation.

Ugh. I can't even stand listening to me rant about this. Actually they should just fire me. It'd be a relief. I'd go live in the desert and scream at the stars like gods intended.

[biosigh]

Five Years Later

I feel as if I'm floating through space. I can feel the ebb and flow of existence as I drift along a current of dark matter, solar ejecta, and gravity waves among the incontrovertible vastness of this black drip. I gave up journaling five years ago, though not deliberately or intentionally. As with many hobbies, hopes, and dreams, I let it fall to the wayside in an almost childlike and capricious neglect as my senses were inundated with the rush of living presently.

I forgot.

I had been fixated on controlling my present and future that I dismissed the past and its useless reflection as a memoir on my life. A waste of time, at least, that is until I felt existential dread grip me by the ankles and drag me into the cosmos of bleakness where I now find myself tumbling. Looking back, I only see a time capsule, borne in this blog and now surrounded by the degeneracy of tumblr's attempt to fill the vapid nothingness with pitiful offerings.

My life, my present life, is going great. I should have no complaints. I'm heading towards completing my PGY3 year of medical residency, my relationship with my mom is fantastic, I feel well-liked in my circles, I'm in love, and the future just seems so bright to me; I'm heading towards such a luminous future like a star in the distance. Except why do I feel dread?

As my body rolls through space, I see glimpses of that bright star ahead, glimpses of my time capsule behind, and everything else is just darkness. Let me help add some nuance:

I'm heading towards completing my PGY3 year, however I need to find a job. I know I'll get a job, and I know I'll get one where I want to go but the uncertainty of what kind of role I'll have - contractor or employee - soul-killing job or enriching - community or academic - per diem or full time - locum or local? It's tough because I don't know how to circumvent this. Many places want someone soon™ or can't see far enough to want me in a year. Other places want me to sign up, apply and be exclusive with them when I don't feel knowledgeable enough to make a decision without signing away my life for a few years. I'm paralyzed by possibility and I continue to hurtle towards an unknowable future.

My relationship with my mom is fantastic but that came at the cost of losing my dad. He passed during the pandemic but not due to COVID19 - small comfort that is. I felt like he was hanging on until I finished medical school and then felt it was time to leave. I don't think I've ever recovered from that. And inbetween the moments where I think of him and miss him and feel the great weight of loss that this world has, I have glimpses and panic about eventually losing my mom too. Space is cold, no matter how many photos come across me; nothing will ever be as warm as a parent's love.

I feel well-liked in my circles. Everyone seems to want to spend more and more time with me. And as much as I enjoy the welcomeness, I find myself retreating more and more into myself. I don't have gratitude for this because I'm used to striking out my own way. I'm used to solitude. I want to appreciate people, but I feel so exhausted because my time feels owed to others. Relationships are dynamic, and they will eventually die without support. But I so wish I could be a friend who pops in and out. Oddly, the comfort of moving through space is the millennia of solitude.

I'm in love. We're about to enter our 8 years together. He's always given me what I've wanted and what I've needed. And I'm learning to be less selfish in this relationship - I'm not very good at it but I'm learning. I'm afraid that if something happened to him, I will never be able to open up to someone new again (see above). Everyone would be measured against the standard that he is. We worked so hard to forge the relationship of our dreams but my anxieties always brace me for the eventuality - by natural or manmade machinations - that we will be apart. And on and on I float in empty space, alone.

The future seems bright but maybe that's because I can only see nuclear fireworks peppering the sky with blazes of the apocalypse. The future feels bleak. We just survived a pandemic, and an ongoing depression. We have multiple national conflicts stirring with new ones coming around the corners like comets. Are we in the 1920s or 2020s? It's so hard to tell anymore that it feels like time dilation is screwing with my head. Gone were the halcyon days of a promising future, and left behind is the nuclear winter of interstellar space. It's horrifically empty and at times beautifully peaceful.

I just want the spinning to stop. I want to stay frozen in time, locked here blissful in an infinite constant.

[buzzbuzzbumblingby]

“

If I hadn’t been here before then it wouldn’t be so hard.

But I have.

And again I’m here.

The easiest I’ve ever had it; to be fair.

But still ; here gain.

Existence is draining.

If I’ve not been here, I wouldn’t fucking know.

But I do. And it is.

You know (Missy).

“Meows I response”

Yeah I know but it’s the way it’s been.

*thinking about technology and all*

She understands.

I do too.

Alcohol ; it helps you remember.

Sometimes.

She gets it. She knows. The movie (‘office space’)

Existential crisis - maybe - of course - maybe.

Anyway.

White wine up my nose.

More familiar than water but thats common too (death by drowning).

I know the ones before died because they couldn’t help it.

I am compassionate. I am.

But.

This time is different.

It’s wash than ever.

But still ;

Again?!!

I am taking it all in enjoyment now but the excrisis-dread is similar.

•••

She sleeps next to me now on the leather couch (inside out).

With social media and movies I grew up, no wonder I’m bi. Parading the women. ; I love them.

Maybe if I do another round I’ll finally do the only one path.

But I feel I’m doing wel on this timeline.

Mere called to something.

How many times have I been an artist ??

Musician ; many times I know.

Why now I feel the anxiety??

Maybe the years/generations of doing it finally catching up?

••

Back to previous point; Robyn would be a good match.

I think she would remember the past easily if I (someone) helped. We’ve prolly been before.

John and I have definitely been together before.

Love him.

He pulls the sensitivity out of me.

But we’ve only been in a few timelines together.

But I do think he pulls the best out of me. Most of the time.

Sometimes pretending not the be the “pant-wearer” is exhausting and draining (almost pre-game restarting-the-mins)

But he loves well. And truly. He is sincere and I adore that.

Together our power is illuminating. But the science is complicated.

••

“Is the bare minimum enough?”

* judges behavior given*

“We fixed the glitch so the confrontation is fixed”

It’s causing a caliber o the timeline.

But others won’t notice.

Only the vibe will slightly effect.

But they started from the beginning and took the sacrifices to do such.

So the vibe might only be noticed a generation later.

•••

Do your own thing.

Fuck the hierarchy.

“Damn it feels good to be a gangster” *2000s vibes*

Honesty vs kissing ass. Doing the bare minimum. That is ok.

•••

Generations have proven the “bare minimum” is fine enough.

Don’t believe their “lies”.

“Common” is not such.

Just a scheme.

It All is.

A test.

The universe.

Trust it or don’t.

But don’t take it seriously.

Relax.

(Generations past - you’re doing the best you can)

••

Your subconscious/intuition is better than you’d know —

“Thumbs up their asses “

So relax.

If it’s your time ;

The universe will have you.

“Human-beings shouldn’t be in cubicles filling out forms; more is needed.”

Let’s make the stocks go down. Stick it to the “man”.

Fuck that side of the universe.

•••

OWN IT.

You are the universe.

Own it or let them “fire you without reason”.

“Come on; sit down”.

We should be so lucky.

Act accordingly.

We came here looking for a land of opportunity.

What’s it going to be???

[clariocosmo]

HELLO EVERBODY I THINK IT’S MORE HERMIT ARCHIVES BRAINROT :DDDD

First off!! Inspired by this and this! Incredibly cool art and ideas!! so anyway, the idea of Etho being the ex-archivist is making me feral. But I have no idea how that’s going to go so here’s my rendition!!

End Avatar! Etho being the most chill avatar ever? In the way that The End knows that everything will come back to it, this man practically does nothing for his fear god, like no ritual or anything !

But what he does do is be an agent of chaos and being a menace in general! He probably just likes to stand around in the background for hours waiting for someone to see him,, and when someone eventually does he just open his scarred eye and probably tell them when they’re going to die or something before just vanishing into thin air 

and his second eye totally just RIPS open along his scar and staring into it, you’ll realise that it’s a void filled with various pupils of strange shapes and sizes staring back at you. Having them focus on you will probably give you the most dread feeling of existential crisis ever?? Like not in a “oh everything is going to die one day and there’s nothing I can do about it oh well” but in a ““oh dang I’m going to die one day and everyone will forget about me and there will be a point where there’s completely no memory of me left in this world” way. Fun!

he loves to watch + observe afterwards and honestly??? Would have been a good Eye avatar but he can’t stop himself from bothering people and I think that’s neat!

also something something scar and etho being on the same spectrum but at the opposite but I can’t figure out what is it yet!

[multifandhoem]

server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

“Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

���I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

[cleoselene]

I have been dealing with an MS relapse and I didn’t even watch game 1 of the World Series (who saw Schwarbs as our taco hero, seriously?!)

but I’m almost too upset by the attack on Paul Pelosi to even speak on it.  There is no living American politician I admire more than Nancy Pelosi and I think she has quietly been one of the most consequential people of my lifetime.  She is the reason we have the ACA and so many other cherished pieces of legislation.  She has held the line against the worst of GOP presidents and been as efficient as possible when she’s had slim control.  People on both sides hate her for being so damn good.

And no one ever sees her for what she is: a mother of five, a grandmother, an elderly woman who has dedicated her life to public service to the least of us.  The thought of some monster coming in with a hammer trying to murder her is beyond horrifying and I’m horrified her husband had to endure that.  A miracle he survived.

It just fills me with this severe existential dread because the reaction to this stuff is never proportional -- when Democrats do wrong, we over-correct.  When a conservative psycho acts out, it gets normalized and rationalized.  My mother and I were discussing it on the phone and she said, “What do we do?  Do we have to be violent, too?”  And that is what they want.  They want us to be so angry that they literally start a civil war.  It’s what these monsters fantasize about in their biggest jerkoff fantasies where they’re some 2020s version of George Washington and it’s fucking stupid.  There’s this confluence of media and culture and the way we have warped our politics and history with creating god-like idols of historical figures, imagining themselves as revolutionaries and film heroes at the same time.

I hope this fucker has a miserable time in a prison he never gets out of.