#i expect this to get zero notes but i need it on my blog

[chasecordelias]

This is what Riverdale should have been the whole time. Season 1 was a very competent whodunnit murder mystery and then from season 2 onward it just kept getting more and more ridiculous. And the thing that makes it most ridiculous though - they always lean a little bit into how “oh it’s demons, oh it’s flying babies, oh it’s magical cults, everyone’s disappearing” but then they always explain it away like “well actually it was all just jingle jangle and it was the special paint they were using in the school and he didn’t come back from the dead, it’s actually his secret cousin’s twin who we just found out about who looks exactly like him”. With this miniseries, it’s like "La Llorona shows up, yeah the devil shows up, yeah ghosts are real, Sabrina’s real, magic’s real" it was actually like almost more believable because in a world today where everything’s superheroes and vampires and werewolves I kind of wish Riverdale was just that. The fact that they’ve been trying to keep everything realistic just makes it more ridiculous. Like I kind of wish it was just like “yeah demons are real dude” it makes it so much more easy to digest.

Alex Meyers

[witchywcmans]

AGAINST THE LAW. | KEN RYUGUJI

synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.2k

song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood

author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol

Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.

Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car. 

Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.

So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.

It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked. 

“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”

You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”

“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand. 

Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.

Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.

You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.

“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”

The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.

You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.

“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”

That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.

This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.

“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”

Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.

You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –

“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?

He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.

He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”

You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.

“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”

“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”

Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”

“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”

This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.

“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”

His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”

“You’re going to make fun of me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we went to school together!”

“Oh, you know that means noth –”

“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”

Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.

He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”

You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”

“And the coffee?” He added.

You shrugged. “Could use some work.”

Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?

He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”

You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”

“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”

His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”

You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller. 

He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –

“So how’s that seat?”

You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”

“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”

His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.

“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.

You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”

“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”

You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”

But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.

“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”

But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”

Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”

Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.

His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.

You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”

Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him. 

His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –

There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.

“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”

You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”

In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.

His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.

He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose. 

You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.

“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”

You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.

Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.

“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”

You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.

“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”

Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.

You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”

A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.

You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”

You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”

He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”

“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this. 

With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”

“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”

“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”

You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”

Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”

His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.

When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.

Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”

You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”

His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.

“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

A GUIDE THROUGH DANIEL BRÜHL'S FILMOGRAPHY

Now that I’ve gone through most of Daniel’s works, I thought this table might help those who are about to embark on the same obsessive journey I began months ago. I have no intention of spoiling anything, I’m only hoping this will provide someone a good idea of what to expect and help them in the selection process. Like, All Quiet on the Western Front is an excellent film but I wouldn’t want to watch that when I’ve had a really shitty day and I just need something light and dumb.

I do a 1 to 10 rating to make it as precise and objective as possible but know that some areas will be subject to my personal taste, factors like the mood I was in while watching it, and the oft-faulty machine that is my memory.

Before I get into the sections, let me quickly paint a picture of my personal taste. From Daniel’s works, my top 3 are Rush (2013), Goodbye Lenin! (2003), and Inglorious Basterds (2009). If we get into favorite films of all-time, it would include Parasite (2019), Before Sunrise (1995), When Harry Met Sally (1989), Atonement (2007), A Quiet Place (2018), Amélie (2001), The Dark Knight (2008), Arrival (2016), and Past Lives (2023). I’m always down for a dark comedy, an epic drama/romance, and a psychological thriller.

Now that's out of the way, onto the TABLE SECTIONS:

ROLE PROMINENCE – how much do you see of Daniel in this film? And, no, this has nothing to do with his ass—though that is always a welcome sight.

IMPORTANT – do we learn something from this movie? Are there interesting concepts being explored? Is it relevant? Does it carry a significant message, however obvious? Is it a career highlight for Daniel? These are the considerations for this category.

PAINFUL – are the themes dark and heavy? Is it stressful to watch? Is Daniel tortured into a pulp? Does it tug at your heartstrings? Is the movie deliberately cringey and embarrassing? This section covers a wide spectrum, so you must refer to the other sections to infer if it’s worth the pain. I have a high tolerance for violence and dark humor, what pains me is a plot that goes nowhere, a poor script, or a movie that wastes so much potential. How invested I am with the story and the characters also has a bearing on my rating. For instance, I feel zero empathy for Chris in Cargo because he's an idiot who had it coming.

WATCHABLE – does it hold your attention throughout? Is it enjoyable? Is it something you can watch over and over again? I have to stress that this section is sometimes influenced by my expectations of a movie and, often, by what I need in that moment.

ADDITIONAL NOTES – here I try to add factors that might have affected my viewing experience, further insight into my rating, and other vital (or not-so-vital) information.

p.s. didn't bother watching 2 Days in Paris and 2 Days in New York because I knew he only had a cameo in those.

OTHER RELATED BLOGS:

The Best of Daniel Brühl 5 Types of Daniel Brühl Characters In search of Daniel Brühl movies?

[thefallennightmare]

Arranged-ten

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: Tags for this will be open, just shoot me a message or comment if you're interested!

Tags: @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @broadwaybabe18 @samsgirl93 @cherryflavoureds-blog @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @clqrosmgc @loumaaria-blog @queerqueenlynn @pampeop @cjand10 @purplerain85 @savannahcole99 @evanstanhoney @sebastianstansqueen @portrait-ninja

Arranged Masterlist

The sudden rush of wind blew the bottom of my dress but I paid no mind to it, the cold breeze having no effect on my already frozen stature. My broken eyes were glued to the large hole in the ground where a two person casket had just been lowered, now filling up with dirt. The men on both sides of me stood with their arms crossed at their hips, not bothering to utter a word. Even if the funeral had ended some time ago, they knew that it wasn’t the time to leave. 

Bucky spared no expense, giving my parents the best funeral they could ever imagine. All of their friends and family came out, some shocked that I had gotten married, especially since it wasn’t known that I was even dating anyone. A quick lie of ‘we kept it quiet for so long, that's why’ seemed to suffice. 

I don’t know how I would have made it without Bucky by my side. He was there for me this past week more than I could have ever thanked him for. He put the majority of his meetings on hold so he could be with me, giving me whatever I needed. 

The night I received the news was the first night Bucky and I shared a bed. I was broken and Bucky was afraid to leave me so he stayed with me that night, holding me in his arms until I fell asleep. The next night I found myself crawling into his bed when the nightmares began, thinking of how my parents died, and Bucky quickly wrapped me up into his embrace. 

That was the last night we slept separate, opting to fully move into Bucky’s room. 

It had been a week with zero updates from the detectives. There was no fingerprints, DNA, or any sort of evidence left behind. 

“Whoever this person was, they knew what they were doing.” Detective Roth’s words kept replaying in my head. 

Up until now, I had been upset and broken about losing my parents, especially after the last conversation I had with them. But now I was pissed, angry, and ready to figure out things on my own. I thought about asking Bucky, him having connections that I would need, but I didn’t want him knowing what I was up to. If he did, he would force me to stop. 

“Doll?” 

I hummed, still not able to form words, but kept my eyes glued to the ground below. Bucky sighed and linked out fingers together, the vibranium of his wedding band pressed into my skin. He decided to wear it on his right hand, mentioning something about having enough vibranium on his left. Bucky made that joke a few days ago, in hopes of it cheering me up. 

It didn't. 

“Y/N,” he pressed again. “They’re done.”

I blinked, shifting back to reality, and looked up towards Bucky. He’s had the same look plastered over his face the last week; sorrow. I told him countless times to stop giving me that look, I didn’t need him to feel sorry for me anymore. 

Which is exactly what I told him now. 

“Stop giving me that look, Bucky. I’ve been getting it all day and I’m so fucking tired of seeing it,” I sighed. 

Bucky nodded then wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. “Sorry. Let’s get you back home then.” 

With my own arms wrapped around Bucky’s back, I looked over towards the other man that stood next to me all day. 

“Are you coming back with us, Steve?” 

The blonde shook his head. “I’ve got some errands to run but I’ll be there tomorrow.” 

Besides Bucky, Steve had been there in my mourning and grief stricken state, a shoulder to cry on when Bucky had to step out for some kind of business. 

“I’m guessing it's back to business,” I looked up towards Bucky. 

He answered my question with a soft kiss to my lips. “I’m sorry, doll.” 

I shrugged, letting him know I didn’t mind. Only because I had been planning on running a couple errands myself and the only way I would be able to do that was if both Bucky and Steve were preoccupied. 

Soft snores sounded behind me as I traced the gold bands of Bucky’s vibranium arm while he slept. His bare chest pressed against my back worked like a personal heater, warming me the second we laid down together. Our feet were intertwined together at the end of the bed, and I knew when he began to twitch that I would be safe to sneak away. 

Steve and him had been busy all day in the office with meetings working like a revolving door. I didn’t see who was coming or going because I had been in bed all day. Bucky thought I needed more alone time to mourn but I was doing the opposite. 

I spent the majority of the day on my laptop and phone trying to chase down any leads I could in my parents murder; where they spent their last moments before coming home and who saw them that night. 

It was all dead ends until I remembered someone who could help me in getting the answers I wanted. As much as I didn’t want to or the fact that Bucky told me to stay away, I needed his help. He had connections in law enforcement that I didn't. 

It was almost midnight and he said that he would text me soon with an address of someone that remembers seeing my parents an hour before the murder. 

Turning over in Bucky’s embrace, I watched him for a moment. His eyes moving underneath its lids, snores coming from his parted lips, and his messy hair falling into his face. Under the moonlight breaking in from the window, he looked so peaceful and divine. 

I brushed the hair out of his face and laid a soft kiss on his cheek, the growing beard scratching my lips. His grip tightened while he buried his face deeper into my neck, leaving his own kiss. Guilt filled me knowing that I had gone against his word and was lying to him but I knew that this was what I had to do. 

My phone buzzed on the table behind me and I did my best to reach for it in hopes of not waking Bucky. 

21412 Longview Lane. 30 minutes-J.W.

“Who is it?” Bucky grumbled into the back of my neck. 

Shit. 

“Just another friend of my parents sending their condolences,” I lied while snuggling closer towards him. 

“At midnight?” His half lidded eyes looked at the clock. 

I smiled at his sleepy voice and nodded. “Late bird I guess.” 

Bucky hummed before rolling towards the other side of the bed and when his back was turned, I placed a few kisses down his spine. 

“I can’t sleep so I’m going to go downstairs and make some tea.” 

With his grumble of words as a response, I knew this was the only chance I would get to sneak away for a bit. 

I rubbed the red mark on my wrist with a grimace towards the guard who opened the metal door in front of me, a loud buzzer sounding throughout the building. As I walked through the long hallway, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the fight that was about to ensue the second we got into the car. 

What I had just gone through the last two hours paled in comparison to the man that was waiting in the lobby. I wished they would have called anyone else but since he was my husband, they had to call Bucky. 

My tired glance landed on Bucky who was leaning against the front desk, an angry scowl on his face. The cop next to him handed him all of my personal belongings and he took them without saying a word. 

“Hi,” I muttered once I was in front of him. 

Bucky kept his hardened face before linking our hands together and somewhat nicely dragged me to the car. The twenty-minute drive home was complete silence, the only thing that could be heard in the small confinement was Bucky’s heavy breathing. He had been gripping the steering wheel so tight that his flesh knuckles had gone white. 

The car eased up the drive and once he was parked in front of the house, I made a quick dash inside, hoping to avoid whatever conversation that was about to ensue. 

“Arrested, Y/N? Are you fucking serious?!” Bucky’s voice boomed as he slammed the front door shut. 

The sudden raise in his voice caused me to jump slightly and I turned on the staircase where I had only made it to the third step. 

“It was stupid. The cop only arrested me because I'm married to you. He wanted to make a point by arresting New Yorks most feared mob boss' wife,” I shrugged. 

Bucky pinched his eyes in annoyance. “What the hell were you doing trespassing on someone's property across town in the middle of the  night? Do you know how dangerous that was, especially because Steve or I weren’t with you.” 

“I wasn’t alone,” I defend. 

HIs shoulders went rigid. “John Walker? Really? Have you lost your fucking mind?” 

I sliced him in half with my gaze. “I know what I’m doing, Bucky.”  

“Did you forget what I told you about Walker?” He asked. 

“I didn’t have a choice, Bucky. He’s the only one that can help me!” My voice was now raised, anger mixed with annoyance. 

His brow raised in confusion. “With what? Breaking into someone's house?” 

I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him the truth. He could see the way I resisted and I’m sure he could hear my heart hammered hard against my chest. Sweat began to form in my palms so I wiped them on my pants before taking a deep breath. 

“I’ve, uh, been looking into my parents murder,'' I stuttered. 

Bucky’s eyes softened. “Why, doll?” 

“Because no one has had any answers! It’s been over a week and nothing!” I snapped. “If the cops won’t do anything then I will!” 

“And you go to Walker for help?” 

The hurt in Bucky’s voice didn’t go undetected and my heart dropped, realizing that maybe I should have gone to him in the first place; could have avoided an arrest charge. 

“The John that I know is different from the one you do, Bucky. There was a point in my life where he would have done anything for me,” I defended my choice. 

“You knew him, Y/N. He’s not the same anymore,” Bucky responded with a flat tone. 

“How do you know?” I curled a brow. “Oh that’s right, you won’t tell me because it’s on the list of ‘secrets to keep from Y/N.” 

I turned on my heels, ready to end this conversation, but Bucky followed close behind as I made my way to our room. 

“You need to end this whole pretend cop nonsense.” Bucky said while shedding himself of his leather jacket, tossing it onto the couch in our room. 

I chuckled dryly. “Haven’t you learned that you can’t tell me what to do?” 

Bucky stepped in front of me as I tried to slip away from him into the bathroom. 

“This is serious shit, doll. You can end up hurt or worse.” 

I raised a finger to him. “I won’t stop until my parents' murders are either caught or dead. If I get hurt in the process, who cares.” 

Bucky’s face fell. “Don’t say that.” 

I shrugged. “You mean to tell me that you would be hurt if something happened to me? Bucky, this marriage was built on an arrangement between you and my parents. They’re dead so you can consider yourself off the hook.”

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice cracked. 

I ran a hand through my hair. “Look, I'm exhausted and just want to go to sleep. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow morning.” 

I didn’t bother giving him time to respond as I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

[breadvidence]

Please mind the #wineposting tag. Regardless: are you asking, "Should I watch this adaptation of Les Misérables?" I'll give you advice, though I suspect if you are reading this blog post you have watched all of these anyway (and quite possibly a few more, besides!).

'25 (Fescourt): Probably! If you are a Brick fan none of the adaptation choices will startle you, but having visuals to go with key scenes is a treat. This is a loyal piece. Toulout as Javert, Gabrio as Valjean, Milovanoff as Fantine, and Nivette as Éponine all give excellent performances. Be prepared for a lukewarm Cosette. You might struggle with silent film conventions, length, and French intertitles.

'34 (Bernard): Probably! This is a fairly loyal adaptation of the Brick that makes internally consistent choices where it deviates from its source (sometimes it has goofy continuity errors—politely ignore). Baur as Valjean and Gaël as Cosette give fabulous performances. Moments of silliness do not detract from the quality. Another long haul.

'35 (Boleslawski): Probably not. As an adaptation of Les Misérables this film is bad. That being said, Charles Laughton is a lauded actor, and you can't say he didn't put his whole laughussy into his performance. Because it is accessible and prominent, a lot of LM fans will have seen this film, and you might benefit from shared context if you're in fandom. Speaking personally, I'm glad I saw it, but I'm not sure you will be.

'52 (Milestone): No. Most likely based on '35 rather than on the book, this film is also a bad adaptation of Les Misérables. There are no notable performances. Because it is accessible, this is another adaptation many fans are familiar with, but understanding jokes about Valjean's boyfriend Robert and Javert's sentient hat probably don't justify sitting through the movie.

'58 (Le Chanois): No. Not the English dub, at least. "Bland" is the word of the day. Contemporary French audiences wildly disagree with me per Wikipedia.

'72 (Bluwal): Strong maybe. If you are an intense fan of the Brick, yes. Its use of a narrator to draw from the novel directly and its focus on the Amis makes this adaptation unique on this list. You might not end up liking it but you will have had an experience. If you have zero investment in Les Misérables but are still reading this post for some reason: no, do not watch this.

'78 (Jordan): At some point I will talk about this film and not make a gay joke but today is not that day. If you are not queer, get off my blog, you cis straight, begone. Everyone else: yes, watch this movie, c'mon. Perkins. That performance. At some point I need to make a serious post about queerness and '78 but right now all I've got is Javert's literal on-screen boner. Jesus Christ. Not a great adaptation of the novel but a virtuoso example of unintentional homoeroticism.

'82 (Hossein): No. This is an odd little adaptation without the charisma of a '35 or '78, somehow not as bad as either of those but not as good either. The GIF of the Amis walking in heavy wind is the best this film has to offer.

'98 (August): No—but I stared into my wine glass for a long, long time before typing those two letters. If we are judging adaptations by how they handle the source material, this is a disaster. As a film? I'm sure entertained. I call it bitchslap Les Mis. I should note here I am also a huge fan of Uma Thurman. Possibly I should recuse myself. I don't know, pal. IDK.

2012 (Hooper): I dwell bitterly on the fact that this is our film version of the musical. Brick fans are restless, musical fans are restless. People who first encountered Les Mis via this version are making feral noises. I'm afraid. I'm moving on.

2018 (Davies): It's really unfortunate that I am at my most drunk while commenting on this adaptation. Sure, watch it, it's one of those BBC series that has watchability sheerly because of production value and proximity to contemporary narrative/film expectations/standards. Personally I hate it. My partner is so tired of the tone in which I utter the syllables "Oyelowo".

The Musical: yes c'mon. Bootleg that good bitch.

[mixelation]

FAQs

Housekeeping post! Last updated 9 November 2024.

General:

Who is Tori?

My OC! Check out her masterpost.

Do you have a tags masterpost?

I'm working on it. :)

How do I refer to you?

I've been telling people to call me Mixel, but some people call me Mix. I use she/they.

Can you tag something for me?

I am not good at remembering to tag things. In general, if you following a blog requires certain things to be tagged, I wouldn't recommend following this blog.

You didn't answer my ask!

I don't answer even close to every ask I get. It's nothing personal! Sometimes I don't have time or energy, sometimes I just don't have opinions on the thing, and sometimes I mean to answer later and then forget and then it gets buried. Sometimes this happens even if I've specifically asked for people to send me stuff via an ask meme. Sometimes I don't answer even when I really want to for various reasons.

I want to talk to you about the thing you just reblogged!

Most of the art/fandom posts (like gifsets, original art, etc) are on a queue and I don't actually know what things post and when. If you do not contextualize the post you are referring to, it's likely I will have no idea what you're talking about.

Do you want a recommendation?

Please don't send me recommendations unless I have specifically asked for them.

Can I DM you?

I don't like getting DMs from people I don't know. Please don't DM me unless we've talked before (via comments, asks, etc -- anon does NOT count). If you have a question you don't want answered publicly, you can send me an ask and request it be answered privately.

Also: please do not send me posts with zero context. I cannot read your mind and I don't like not knowing what you expect me to do with the post (reblog it, talk to you about, etc). Yes, even if you think the context is obvious. You do not need many words to contextualize a post.

Do you have a DNI?

No, but relevant to being a fandom blog: I am a bonafide adult, and my view on shipping and other fandom activities is basically "I have no right to judge what fictional scenarios other people enjoy or want to explore, regardless of my personal feelings on them." If either of those things make you uncomfortable, go ahead and block me.

Can I repost your content to another website? I'll credit you!

For fics, absolutely not. Do not repost any of my creative story writing, fanfic or original fic.

For generic tumblr posts, I am wary of giving permission to repost any sort of content on another site. I can’t stop you reposting screen caps of my posts, and I’m not going to hunt them down or (publicly) complain about screen caps of my post on other sites. But if you come to me actually asking for permission.... the answer is no.

Fandom and fics:

I came here to find the Plasticity AUs and what I found confuses and frightens me.

Not to worry! I made a masterpost.

Why did you change your user name?

Here's a post about it. Most relevant notes form that post: 1. Don't refer to me by my old user name, even on other sites. 2. If you find an old tumblr link that's broken, you can replace my old user name with "mixelation" and it will work again!

Can I do ______ with your fic?

I have a permissions statement on my AO3 profile. I try to keep this up-to-date as my feelings on how my work is used evolves.

Can I tag you/send you a post that reminds me of your fics?

Yes, but please explain that's what you're doing. Please don't send me context-less posts. I cannot read your mind through the internet.

I might retract permission for this if I start getting a ton, just for my own sanity. But so far it's been fine.

How do I send you fan art?

Most people have been sending them by asks, but you can also post them to your own blog and @ me, or else comment on the fic itself or send me a link via tumblr asks. Give me a few days to interact before following up.

When are you going to update _____? Is _____ abandoned?

I have a busy life and what fic I work on in my free time is controlled by the whims of my brain. There's no schedule and I am unlikely to be able to give you an estimate. I will tag a fic as abandoned on AO3 if I decide there's no way it will ever get updated. For some fics for which I get this a lot:

Homemade Dynamite - I actually have about 95% of chapter 13 written. Chapter 12, however, is only like half written and I have a pretty big block on it. :(

Fun and Games - I do hope to continue this one, and I have a decent chunk of the next chapter written, plus notes + an outline for the rest of the fic. Unfortunately, to keep writing it, I have to do a decent amount of research on HP canon, and certain recent events have really soured my motivation to interact with that canon.

I found a fic I think you would like!

Please see my answer about recommendations. Don't send them unless I've asked, no matter how good you think it is.

Can you give ME a fic recommendation?

Probably not. I don't have time/energy to read a lot nowadays, and I don't tend to bookmark or save fics I do read. I don't mind sharing if I've mentioned a specific fic, but I feel bad when people ask for recs and I literally don't have anything.

[coralhoneyrose]

📚 🔮 ?

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

Oh man, there’s a whole bunch of them as a matter of fact! I made a list for an anonymous ask a while back that you can find here, but there have been some other excellent chrobin fics I have found or re-discovered since then, so here’s a few additions:

Our Last First Meeting

Elevation

Flushed

Mate in Four

Went looking for a creation myth; ended up with a pair of cracked lips

Day of the Dead

As It Should Be

Guilt and Forgiveness 

Heavy is the Head 

Mental math

The Best Dad Ever

Firefly

🔮 Any advice for writers working through burnout or writer’s block?

I do have some, actually! Most of this has probably been said before, but here’s some stuff that has helped me:

Take a break. Like a real break where you’re not even trying to write or plan for your writing and set a minimum length for the break ahead of time. If you find yourself wanting to write during the break anyway, don't. Better to make yourself take the time away and give yourself a chance to miss it; also, you don't want to teach your brain that the breaks are conditional it needs to be a real period with absolutely zero expectations of producing anything.  

When you come back to writing afterwards, don’t bite off more than you can chew. Start with small goals like “I will write for 10 minutes and if I am not enjoying it at the end, then I will honor my feelings and stop”. If you have a hard time with accountability, try telling a friend you will start at a certain time and having them message you once the time is up to ask if you were able to follow through and how it went. 

Fresh air!! If it’s feasible, preferably somewhere with trees or a body of water. Could be good to go alone as well, or with someone who won’t expect you to talk the whole time. Making time to let your thoughts wander and to daydream is important for replenishing creative reserves.

Try a hand at drawer fic. Write something really different from what you’ve been working on with no intention to ever publish it or necessarily show it to anyone. Just let yourself focus on the actual creation process without all the pressures

Talk with friends about some of the things you love / that get you excited about whatever thing you’re trying to write (may work better with fic than original work but could probably be made to work in either case)

Put on really good music when you sit down to write. I recommend something instrumental personally, since my brain has a hard time making words if I am listening to someone else’s, but that sort of thing is different for everyone.

Read books with prose you find inspiring and take notes (can just be on your phone) on the writing techniques the author uses that you like or specific word choices and phrasing you find interesting. Next time you sit down to write, revisit it to get some ideas flowing

This last one is kinda specific and may only be applicable to certain types of writer’s block and burn out, but I was in a bit of a writing slump not long ago and reading this blog post was very reassuring to me. To generalize it a little more, maybe try looking into other writing communities or listening to other writers share their experiences with the same thing. One of the scary things about writer’s block / burn out is that when you’re in it, it can feel like it will never end. Hearing from other people who have been in the same position as you can be really reassuring <3

[hidefdoritos]

So, for Christmas break, I've been staying with a very considerate older couple. When I got here, I found out that they're also...comfortably wealthy. I wish I could have been live-blogging my stay here, but this summary post will have to suffice.

MOSS'S MUSINGS: HOUSEGUEST EDITION.

-Ask which dishes you are allowed to use. I didn't know this would even be a question--I grew up with one set of dishes--but it matters. The dishes we've been using are red with snowmen on them. Tonight I put my soup in a red bowl with Christmas trees around the edge. That was wrong and bad. I have been told that they "prefer I not use that" because it is "for special occasions," and was told to "set it aside so I can hand-wash it." Side note, rich people also own things that can't go in the dishwasher. Thankfully they told me about this ahead of time.

-In general, they make requests when they mean to give you instructions. "I'm having some ladies over tonight, so if you'd like to clean the bathroom, that would be fine." = I, Moss, need to clean the bathroom before I leave for work this morning. They're secret instructions--instructions in a suggestion-shaped suit. I like to think of it as a secret code that I'm very smart for solving. It helps me to not tear my hair out.

-House thing that shook me to the core: They have heat vents on the floors under the sinks! So you can wash your hands or wash dishes and your feets don't get cold!

-Speaking of heat: heated mattress pads exist! It's like a heating pad for your whole body. High settings are nice for muscle aches; low settings are so cozy to sleep on.

-Speaking of mattresses: The guest room has a Sleep Number mattress. I think it's a scam. It's a balloon under your mattress to adjust the firmness/softness. I am 240 lbs. If it isn't over half inflated, my butt's on the bedframe.

-They are weird about trash. All food waste is handled separately and taken straight to the bin in the garage so it doesn't smell. The kitchen trash can lid has a motion sensor. It's automatic. Scared the daylights out of me when I first walked past it to get water at night.

-Speaking of water, ask what water you should use. Tap is not acceptable to some! My hosts have a fridge dispenser. Unfortunately it dispenses cold water. I have worked around this by getting water in advance of my needs and letting it change toward room temp. Also, you can't put drinks on the furniture! Wood is different from the plastic-coated OSB furniture that I grew up with. I must remember now to use coasters because any spills or drips can leave white marks.

-When they start discussing money, try not to let your mouth drop open at the amount of zeroes. One host bought a new car and was bragging to me about how he only paid $28,000, and that was actually $5,000 off for having a certain type of credit card. I just worked the mental math for the discount percentage to keep my brain from exploding. $5k is more than I paid for my entire car. My family motto is "Buy used and drive it 'til the wheels fall off." I did not say so.

-Most importantly, they've been extremely kind and generous to me. They dropped my rent for the month down to almost nothing. They bought any groceries I expressed interest in. I'm going back to campus with some of the best homemade soup of my life, and a coupon for an oil change, and a new appreciation for dark chocolate almonds. When I got here, my hostess had set up a desk for my sewing machine in her sewing room (!! a whole room for sewing!!) and taught me to use a rotary cutter and an iron that's entirely too complex.

tl;dr rich-ish people are super weird about some things you wouldn't expect, and your head will explode a few times, but they're still people and my overall experience has been great.



[samueldays]

I intend for this to be my last britbong post for a while, so I don't become a one-note blog. I will get out my rant here and be done.

The posts, allegedly:

Prosecutor George Shelley said Dunn had posted three separate images. The first one showed a group of men, Asian in appearance, at Egremont crab fair 2025, with the caption: “Coming to a town near you.” The second also showed a group of men, Asian in appearance leaving a boat on to Whitehaven beach. This, said Mr Shelley, had the caption: “When it’s on your turf, then what?” A final image showed a group of men, again Asian in appearance, wielding knives in front of the Palace of Westminster. There was also a crying white child in a Union flag T-shirt. This was also captioned, said Mr Shelley, with the wording: “Coming to a town near you.”

I didn't find any source that provided the images themselves, so in light of the way British papers use "Asian" as a euphemism, I think it's likely this man was memeing about the PAKISTANI RAPE GANGS in Rotherham, Telford, and elsewhere who had RAPED THOUSANDS OF BRITISH GIRLS. The British prosecutors ought to spend more time on rape gangs, and an approximately negative amount of time on the men who are offended by the rape gangs and posting images about it. Give him a commendation for Raising Awareness.

Sentencing Thompson, Judge Temperley had said of the zero tolerance approach being taken by courts:  “This offence, I’m afraid, has to be viewed in the context of the current civil unrest up and down this country. And I’ve no doubt at all that your post is connected to that wider picture.

how about "context" and "wider picture" of rape gangs, shithead

“That has to be reflected in the sentence as does there need to be a deterrent element in the sentence that I impose, because this sort of behaviour has to stop. “It encourages others to behave in a similar way and ultimately it leads to the sorts of problems on the streets  that we’ve been seeing in so many places up and down this country. This offence is serious enough for custody.”

I think the rioters should impose a deterrent element on judges, because this sort of sentencing behavior has to stop.

Years ago I visited Britain and thought the poverty and dysfunction and low quality of things from restaurant tables and rental cars to internet connection and interior plumbing felt second-world compared to Norway. Britain had surprisingly rotted to become worse than Poland on several material counts. Now this is a nasty sociological mark against Britain, too.

Another bit of "context" I'll offer is that the British 2005, 2010, 2015, 2017 and 2019 elections were all won by parties (Conservative or Labour) who promised reduced immigration, and the Brits got increased immigration anyway. Massively increased.

If you take all the "democracy" and "representative government" and "will of The People" shit seriously, then The People of Britain are entitled to reduced immigration - it is their right for there to be fewer "Asians" in the country, as was promised to them, as they voted for. Having tried to get this at the ballot box five elections in a row, democratic governance has failed. The government has been denying the people their right. Judges should be issuing deportation orders for immigrants, not jailing nativists. I stress here that I am not a democrat myself, I do not believe in democracy, I am pointing out an implication of democratic legitimacy theory that rioters are the rightful democratic-revolutionary element of the people which is entitled to remove the government by force and install a more compliant one to restore the rights of the people and deport a million immigrants.

(They'll lose and not get that, I expect. Democratic legitimacy is gradually being superseded by Antihitlerian legitimacy, and peasant revolts need a powerful backer to have a chance, whether a defecting internal noble or external foreign supporter. Maybe Elon Musk would like a country. King Musk I of Britain...)

[thepowerisyouth]

Eh mental health is annoying. Buying & cooking cheap low-FODMAP diet is annoying. My best top note for now is I'm using this blog to practice writing. I need more practice in it. I only know business, accounting & economics stuff. Its stupid stuff. Theres too much actual fraud everywhere that its annoying

Also I use mobile so formatting sucks cause Nvidia GPUs, or Arch dont like tumblr site. Or tumblr site dont like tumbkr site

Also also I 100,000% support all my fellow ones-and-zeros and their identity. Everyone is welcome here.

Except transphobes/zionist/long list of others but you get it. I'll help harrass any of those types endlessly if someone wants to tag me, and bring me in on an argument like that friend you call for backup with fights

Im unhinged so who's to say exactly what will end up here but this is also a completely public blog to me friends, family, hell, even acquaintances i dont give a fuc.

Blog should be expected to be roughly as child-friendly as simpsons or bobs burgers. But also boring like a civics/economics lesson sometimes. Yay

--------

I (and my husband) am ex mormon. Its a weird thing. Look into it if you havent recently. Realllllyyyy look into. Takes time to figure it all out in this fuckin fucked up world.

I just moved a year ago. Didnt watch the US stock market as much as I normally do. Had my first snowstorm 10 weeks ago, that was.. fun to handle while ill prepared. About 6 weeks ago I was hopping back on the market and notice its a huge tech bubble about to pop and all the conditions Ive been warned about my whole career imply this is not good. Just took a little more thinking & digging and I'm a little too confident to stop talking about it now.

(Oh I'm also care-free as fuc so I dont really read or desire to change past posts more than lil-nitpicks. More informative for the reader & myself-in-the-future-reading that way)

And I'm not kidding I do love feedback & questions. Its a very public blog tho so I get that part for sure.

If you search "life story" in my tags I had that pinned for a min Im just moving shit around rn

Being poor sucks. Will write more on that later.

---------------

First of all-- the exact timeline of an "economic shock" is literal insanity. Dont worry about the exact timing of any of this-- just know its doomed to happen soon.

Here are some effects I predict of this upcoming economic downturn

If anyone comes across any sources for these events that support my arguments please feel free to add in comments, reblogs, etc.

This concise list is mainly for my own reference, but it would be great to add to it if any one has something to add!

0.5. US Stock market collapse-- I have no desire to try and predict this one exactly. Too many conspiracies are actually correct about this big guy. Lets just say 7 US Tech stocks are worth 25% of the entire worlds market, roughly. "Too big to fail"-- I believe is the phrase

1. Corporate (slightly later will be residential by extension) real estate crisis: currently way too overvalued. Most of the houses, land, & urban corporate property we see could stand to decrease by about 60-90% from its current price.

2. Bankruptcy crisis: similar to the after-effects of the 70s inflation-- we can expect to see a huge wave of bankruptcies affecting a variety of business: from the micro-self employed; to the small business with leased buildings; to the largest corporations who commit massive accounting fraud & hope to escape accountability in time

3. Bank runs-- there is an extremely high overreliance on the Federal Reserve, who does not have good control over this situation. Once it becomes clear that there is a crisis (we call this a catalyst event)-- bank runs for physical cash are a surety. Hard to say how long a crisis like this might last. I should ask my siblings who lived near the SVB bank crisis hotspot (but those were rich fucks they do their "bank runs" over the phone)

3.5. Global currency collapse, which takes effect in every single local, state, & national economy at slightly different times. This means prices lower. Much lower. But takes time

4. Whatever the fuck the geopolitics is gonna do???. Its weird. You got Russia wanting to invade Europe? (Look at global economic forum 2024) Trump wants to let them. Biden wants to be an establishment corporate ass. North Korea has changed its #1 public enemy to South Korea (dont remember my source but it was a couple months ago). USA is stationing more troops in Taiwan, but probably only because of semiconductor technology?

The scope of our global financial woes are larger than can be explained in any of our lifetimes. Its much, much closer to pre-revolution France or the late 1920s. Big change is coming. Itll be soon

5. More to come

[thedum1]

I don’t know the story you are referring to, but I would definitely read that. Finally, material that fits them. Also, I wanted to say, stop complaining. You are an adult. You whining about something that you don’t like, and saying they don’t act that way. You haven’t been focusing on who they are. They are demons! Beel and the rest of the brothers eat humans. It has been implied many times. They don’t have the same hang ups you, and others like you have. They’ll do many things that in human society would be looked down upon. You need to grow up, at your big ole age of 25 and move on. You aren’t a child anymore. Obey me had changed so much and is watered down from what it used to be, because of people like you. You get offended over anything you don’t agree on, but then expect others to accommodate you. Yet, you are hypocritical, because you judge way to much, especially about things that you don’t like. You forget that there are others who do enjoy that content, and will support it. Keep complaining, there are tons of people on here who will continue to make these type of stories, and dark content. It’s not gonna stop just because you are uncomfortable. Stop bullying people into thinking like you, we all have our own interests.

First of all I'm not sure you got the full point of my post. I'm not just complaining about the type of content it was but the lack of appropriate tags. Dark blogs are fine, I've followed a couple because of slashers. My problem is when they don't use tags or use the wrong ones.

Second I'm fully aware that the boys are demons. I have a couple of personal headcanons about humans being a delicacy in the Devildom.

Third I know people like that shit (not derogatory). I saw the amount of notes it had, didn't look at them but I'm sure most were likes. I have zero issues with people liking it. I have an issue with the lack of tags.

Fourth and finally I'll tell you what I saw. It was a post about MC/reader walking in on Beel, who is canonically attached to his brothers and never does anything bad to them and tries not to for the most part, eating MC's and his brother's, never specified which, baby.

So tell me anon, am I really fully in the wrong for being upset at the gross lack of tags on a post like that? I have some good examples of a few tags that person could have used so I and others won't have to see their shit, again I'm not being derogatory this time.

[cinewhore]

Lol so I am overthinking a lot of things right now and this website is for blogging so I am going to blog my feelings

I feel like a shit writer.

But I know I’m not a shit writer.

I have always felt that writing fanfic is important, and it helps me to write more frequently as well as express myself and connect with others. However, I just feel like I am forcing myself once again to do some thing that I don’t want to do and the reason I don’t want to do it is because I’m like what’s the point but I know what the point is obviously! I can’t tell you the amount of times I have come across my mutuals writing things and just get filled with such an envy that it makes me sad. And I just think why can’t I draw emotional responses from people? Am I not captivating enough? Am I too niche? Am I not writing surface level stuff enough because it seems like that’s the sort of stuff that gets appreciated. And I know that’s not fair to say because there is something for everyone, there’s an audience for everything I just feel like I put myself in a stupor because I am putting a lot of expectations on things and myself when there really shouldn’t be that much expectation for this creative outlet.

I don’t know if any of this makes a lick of sense, and I feel like I’m talking myself in circles, but I just want to put this out just in case my master list disappears again or i stop writing altogether.

The amount of energy that I try and put into what I post I definitely feel like could be used for other personal projects that could get me to where I want to be in life and now I am feeling like maybe I am sort of wasting my time at this moment by writing this stuff because it’s just not giving me the satisfaction but I know this speak to a bigger problem of the fucking algorithm and how terrible it is

There is absolutely no reason as to why I should be this upset or disturbed by fucking zeros and ones and “notes” that don’t really mean anything at the end of the day it’s so silly and trivial that it just pisses me off to know that this is something that upsets me, but I also want to give myself that grace because I’m upset because it means something to me.

I want to be challenged in my writing I want to love my writing, and most importantly, I want my writing to be loved by other people. I create these stories from my heart and I think I’m still learning what my role is as a storyteller and how I can better show up to that role.

This summer I thought that I would be able to relax and just write a whole lot, but I realize that relaxation for me at least is not writing this. This is definitely a period of rest, which means doing absolutely literally nothing, and because I was raised in the sort of grind culture, and the fact that I have to take care of myself, I always feel like I need to be producing something and I can’t just sit around and not do anything because that means I’m wasting time and time is something that we don’t really know how much we have of.

Blessings if you read this far again it’s 1 AM and I don’t know if any of this will make sense when I wake up but I know this is what I feel and I am still trying to figure out what those feelings are trying to tell me because feelings are there to tell you what you need and not who you are so I know I’m not a bad writer. I know all of these nasty things that my brain is telling me is not true. I am just trying really hard to figure out what it is my brain is telling me that I need.

[mugenloopdalove]

Dude the way you use this blog is so incredibly unhealthy. I know for a damn fact you're not gonna listen to me and make this message out to be like it's attacking you, but it needs to be said. The way you whine and complain about how you don't want to write or even LIVE anymore because you don't get a lot of attention is so bad for you. If you're creating art to get validation from others then you're not doing art right. Art is for YOU. It's to have FUN. Yes, notes are nice and of course it's fun to see how people like it but you can't have that be then only reason you create. It's also not fair that you threaten to give up over it to guilt people into sending you comments. Self shipping is supposed to be a coping mechanism but it seems like all it does is make you tell others you want to kill yourself. You're not going to listen to me at all I know but you should just log off or even delete your damn blog at this point because all it seems to do is worsen your already shitty mental health.

???? When the fuck did I say I don't want to live bc I'm not getting attention. Hell did u see my posts today about how I'm trying to tell myself the OPPOSITE or did you just choose to look at the posts I made the past week when I was literally off my meds.

And like yeah you can "you can't create for validation" all you want but getting zero feedback on something you work on is fuckin crushing and tiring.

Me being suicidal sometimes has nothing to do w lack of attention it has to do w the fact that my life lately has been losing my cat, losing my job, struggling to get another, and feeling like I'm not good at anything I try

Don't come here acting like you know me and my life and expect me to listen to you. I don't think you're acting me but you are being very ignorant and giving completely unsolicited advice and acting like you're living my life rn.

[kexing]

[if you find it creepy that I comment on your mental health notes like a creeper, please say so]

Hey MJ. I read your notes about making zero progress and going backwards. I don’t want to offer platitudes or condescend to you because i don’t know what your life is like and what you’re dealing with, but i wanted you to know that from this internet stranger’s perspective, you are brave and strong. Because i look at your blog, and i see someone who is kind and compassionate, who loves passionately and unapologetically, someone who is still hopeful. And to me, that takes courage, that takes emotional strength and resilience, to still see beauty in the darkness, to put yourself out there where others can see, to deliberately choose love and kindness over and over again.

Yours is the only blog i visit regularly because you are witty and talented and unhinged in the best kind of way, yes, but above all because your blog is a safe place for me. Last week i had to put down my 14-year-old cat. It was one of the hardest things i’ve ever had to do. I had a panic attack at work and had to take the rest of the day off. I got home and opened Tumblr and looked at your Dating Sim gif sets. And it just settled something deep inside me. I’m still a mess, but when i need a smile or to escape for a little while, your blog is my go-to. Think of the prettiest pink sky, the softest soft hug, that is what your blog is to me. And all you ever had to do is be your—talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique—self. 💖

[you said that you sometimes find motivation in fannish things but not so much in other things. someone i respect very much once said that to be a fan of / be obsessed with something, that is living with love. those who know love and those who don’t have very different qualities of life. i think it’s such a lovely way to describe hyperfixation: we are living with love]

i do not find it creepy, friend!! this is a public blog and i enjoy when people interact with my posts/tags. promise, it’s all fine! 🥰🥰🥰

hi! first of all, my DEEPEST condolences to you. i know how pets can be super important to us, my dog is already old and sometimes i try to prepare myself because i know sooner or later he’ll have to leave me. but i don’t think one can truly be ready for something like that. so i completely understand your struggle and even though it’s so incredibly hard, you’re dealing with it as best as you can and you’re sooo strong for that!! most days i don’t think i live on without my dog. god knows how exactly i’m going to do that akdkskdkks but we gotta live one day at a time and make the most of them. it’s all we really have!

so i’m sending you lots of hugs and positive energy!!

when you mentioned visiting my blog regularly and feeling a little better after seeing my our dating sim gifset, i legit started crying 😭😭😭 (granted, i cried a lot today but this is the first happy tears. so thank you!)

i mean, i do like sharing about my struggles sometimes because i don’t want people to think i’m just preaching toxic positivity and that i never go through tough times when that’s simply not true. i hit rock bottom every day but happiness is made of lil moments and i get to have many of those throughout the day as well, most of them here making and sharing things i love with my mutuals.

it’s just my choice to focus on the good moments instead of the bad ones and i want to be defined by my choices, not my struggles.

but i didn’t really expect to bring that kind of comfort to someone else and it really moves me that i can help you in any way, even if just for one second. losing a loved one is sooooooo hard, i’m happy that i can keep you company and that this can be a safe place for you, even if i didn’t know that. so thank you for telling me about it!!

we are living with love 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭 that is so beautiful and so true!!!

and you know what? i can live without being loved but i simply cannot live without loving things and people but i wouldn’t have it any other way!!! while being loved is one of the most wonderful things ever, i get to have little pieces of everything that i love in me as well and that’s enough 🥰

thank you so much for reaching out!! for writing such lovely words, they really touched a very deeeeeeeeep part of my heart and i feel floored by your kindness.

takes a brave, strong and compassionate person to know what bravery, strength and compassion look like. so everything you see in me reflects exactly the type of person you are!! we’re all mirrors of our thoughts and actions!!!

i’m sure your cat had a lovely life and was very lucky to be loved by you!!!!!!!!!!

take care of yourself, angel!!!! love you ❤️💙

[duhragonball]

All right, Nanowriomo doesn't start for another 24 hours and change, and I think I've taken care of all the prep stuff I needed to do. Tomorrow, I take a nap, stay up till midnight and... begin.

Not much point dancing around it anymore. The next several chapters of my fic will be devoted to Luffa vs. Goku. This was pretty much the whole reason I started this thing.

Like, I came up with the character around 2004, because I wanted to do a Dragon Ball fanfic and couldn't think of a good angle until I considered making my own take on the ancient Super Saiyan to serve as a counterpoint to Broly. And one of the problems I had with the original Broly movie was that it introduced Broly as a challenger to Goku's Super Saiyan title, so he'd have to fight to prove he's the real deal, but their battle was too one-sided for my tastes. I wanted Goku to face a peer who could match him, and they would put on a clinic. If they were to fight. In 2007, I remember imagining Luffa getting to see Goku and Vegeta in the future, but I couldn't figure out a good way to make that happen. Then 2015 came along with create-a-character for the Time Patrol, and it all clicked into place. I just had to write all the setup.

And I've wanted to ramble on about this for years, but I knew I couldn't, because it would spoil the fun when it came time to actually make it happen. Besides, there wasn't much use in hyping up a dream match when it only existed in my head.

But now it can be told. Well... not now now. But soon.

I'm feeling kind of restless right now...

Oh, right, I was going to address some programming notes. One thing I didn't get done this month was the 2023 Dragon Ball Apocrypha Liveblog. The last stop on that tour was supposed to be the DBS manga adaptation of Super Hero, but the arc stubbornly refuses to end. I had said a while back that I might just knock out the chapters that were available in October, whether the story was finished or not, but I just couldn't find the time for that.

So my options now are to write it up in November--which is probably not a great idea since liveblogging and writing fanfic in the same month never goes well for me-- or I can just do it in December, which might be more realistic, since there's a non-zero chance that the arc won't be over until then anyway. I mean, I can't do it in January, because that's 2024, and that defeats the whole idea of a 2023 Apocrypha liveblog, right?

I'll keep you posted, but no matter what I do, you probably shouldn't expect to see me post anything about the manga until December either way. Either I wait until December to start, or I do it in November and I probably won't have it ready to post until December anyway. These manga chapters always come out near the end of the month, you know. Anyway, I'm sick of letting Shueisha set the pace for this thing. I'll do it on my terms, not theirs.

And yeah, I guess that's it for tonight. For newer followers who don't know how this works, I use Halloween to hype up the start of Nano by queueing up some songs to set the mood, then I post a version of the DX theme song around midnight to mark the start, and also a picture of Cell saying "Ding!" from the dub. Then I use the blog to sort of ramble on about the writing experience. It's probably not great for viewer engagement, but that's how it goes.

[an-anonymous-autobiography]

hi, my name is zero. i’m currently attempting to write a book (though i may just stick to the blog format for now) about my life and my experiences with mental health issues. (so fair warning - the things i post may include some triggering content, i’ll do my best to tag things but it may not be perfect)

this blog is just a way for me to corral ideas and maybe get a little insight if people wish to give their opinions.

i’m not an author, i barely passed my english exams, and i’m still very much in the beginning stages of writing so please forgive me if the quality isn’t great, i’m doing my best to improve it as i go and to hopefully come out with a decent end product.

i don’t expect to be hugely active on here, i’m writing a lot by hand and most of my notes are too chaotic and need to be written up properly. that being said i do hope to share some things here and just see what people think before i commit to anything.