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#I don't think Roman's aware of it
masquenoire · 1 year
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"And I humbly dub you as my lil meow meow." / Sylvia
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“... What the fuck is a meow meow, Dove?”
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inkylizard · 1 year
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I guess I never posted this, because I wrote it in 2013(?), before I started this blog, and never went back for it. I think it holds up though. The first words I ever had for feeling like I can’t form memories at the speed of life. bonus content: the recording @narcissistcookbook​ made of it, under a previous (secret) identity.
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aeide-thea · 11 months
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saw a post that was like
'i'm so floored by the fact that this mid-20th century author of historical fiction wrote about queerness as though it was natural and important!'
and it's like. the author in question was queer! queer people have been writing work in which queerness was natural and important since much earlier than the 50s—forster wrote maurice in the 1910s! whitman was writing poetry that celebrated queerness in the mid-19th century! i'm sure that if i did any actual research into the history of queer fiction instead of just whipping out the things that spring immediately to mind for me, many more examples would present themselves!
anyway i just think like. that sort of reflexive naive modern chauvinism is a real mistake (especially considering how things have been going in america lately…), and for anyone who is, or wants to be, a serious student of the past, worth scrutinizing and uprooting in oneself. queerness is present and positively depicted in some of the oldest literature we have; and when we encounter matter-of-fact, even celebratory, representations of it from eras we reflexively conceptualize as more conservative than ours, i think we need to be aware that any startlement we feel at that is an artifact of the repressive, erasive, homophobic thinking inculcated in us by our own particular milieu(x), and not in fact a neutral or historically informed reaction?
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schmweed · 11 months
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#Gerri Kellman#Roman Roy#my gifs#no but listen LISTEN#Roman misses his horrible dead dad#and he knows Logan had every single tape of every single event he was ever at at a special storage multilevel basement#even after conversion to digital the footage needs lots of storage room#so Roman claims it all and everybody looks at the tiny poor rich manboy with the cut on his forehead#and they let him have it#(obviously Gerri has copies of every single byte stored elsewhere)#and heartbroken over Gerri and grieving his dad Roman does nothing but watch all day#then he watches this. and he's like WHAT? WTF is Gerri saying to Greg WHY is she linking their arms#and how DARE Greg stare after Gerri so hungrily#even though part of Roman's brain is aware enough to tell that Greg was hungry for status and money#he's still jealous because how DARE Greg#and he wonders and wonders and stalks Greg#online first because I don't think Roman would be up for anything offline now#and ofc Greg being Greg is superkeen to be in Gerri's good graces#so he's keen to have her in his 'casual' snapshots at events that he then posts to his social media#and even though Roman is 95% sure Greg isn't and was never interested in Gerri like that#and even though the other 5% is the loudest and angriest and yells excuse me? Greg has eyes doesn't he?#what Roman is most jealous abt is that all those ppl get to have the privilege of being in Gerri's presence#when NONE of them knew her like Roman did and none of them was fondly... something by Gerri like Roman was#I miss them so much!#can I also say how DELICIOUS this scene was! the unbelievable twist when I discovered it was Greg not Shiv! after I was SURE it was Shiv!#such incredible writing. incredible characters. incredible everything.#Succession
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spiderwebd · 3 months
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its me worm anon wit a very important message
iif you went to space so that you, you went to space what planet. are you going to. in space
uhmmmm Nebraska
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the-everqueen · 1 year
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17 + 24 for violence ask game pwease :3 perhaps both sandyman and sucksession
17. there should be more of this type of fic/art para mansand: i want more Lucienne art in general. Viv's insta features some fucking cute fits that would be great fanart inspo. for fic...i'm going to continue preaching the gospel of Coco/Luce. i'm currently writing the Coco/Rose fic i wanted, because the people who write that pairing turned me onto it and i owe them my life.
para succshow: i have many many arts in my likes after the finale, pero if anyone has Roman Roy in that cage with a dog collar...that would be highkey relevant to my interests. idk if anyone is doing the cosmic horrors/waystar crossover but i do sometimes think about the kids' monstrosity being literal.
24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse already answered but just for you, shall answer again 😘
para mansand: "here's why h*b/dream are actually soulmates" inevitably leads to some incredibly misogynist (and occasionally biphobic) takes. i'm not sure why, in the year of our lord 2023, we continue to find "person you are inextricably bound to" as anything other than horrifying (and if someone has a horror fic based on that premise, lmk), but then again, i'm also not sure why the very normal stance "i like [this] ship" nearly always becomes an excuse to shit on fictional women. (that's a rhetorical statement, i know why.) the actors already gave us the lovely line "Dream is the cast bicycle" so i think people should run with that and diversify the ecosystem.
para succshow: i should say Shiv, because no one can be normal about the one woman, pero sometimes i do a great job curating my experiences on the margins of fandom, and i've actually seen some really good nuanced takes on the finale. so instead i'm going to say tom/greg discourse is, imho, Bad. these men don't secretly love each other. no one loves each other on this show. no one on this show knows what love is. that line "i'd castrate you and marry you in a heartbeat" is not fucking romantic, it's about ownership and dominance because that's the framework of all relations under capitalism. and that's the only framework the Roys have for anything.
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hannieehaee · 1 month
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18+ / mdi
summary: jungkook, god of love and son of venus is given the task by his mother herself to rid the world of you, known as psyche, as your beauty begins to rival her own. unfortunately for all parties involved, jungkook becomes enamored by you upon accidentally pinching himself with his own arrow.
content: cupid!jungkook, psyche!reader, an extremely simplified and smutty version of the og story, afab reader, everyone here is a god/goddess of some sort, side character deaths, the dialogue is very much modern and not fitting of the times, angst(?), fluff, smut, they have sex where she doesnt know who he is multiple times but its consensual, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 8.6k
a/n: for immersion purposes, psyche will be a reader insert and wont be referred to as psyche throughout the story (but jk will be referred interchangeably as cupid). anyways i read this last week during one of the lit courses i decided to take to improve my writing and really enjoyed it!! i hope u guys enjoy it too<3
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
"Why did you call for me, again?"
"Jungkook, pay attention!", hissed his mother, holding her fingers to her temples in stress as one of her many servants walked in with the fruit she'd requested, "I need you to use your arrows on someone."
"What? Why? I thought you didn't like me meddling with people's love lives."
"This is different. This one needs a little help," Venus frowned in sheer annoyance, "She is known as Psyche by many, Y/N by her loved ones. She has become quite a figure among the Roman population. Some have begun to worship her beauty. They pray to her, they bring her offerings, they kiss at her feet, completely disregarding the true Goddess of Beauty."
"And where does this concern me?", Jungkook was beyond bored by his mother's ramblings. On a usual day, he would be out and entertaining himself with the many mortal maidens found around Rome, always guaranteeing himself a partner for the day.
Venus shot Cupid a look as her servants fed her by mouth, making him straighten his back and begin paying better attention. Even as the Goddess of Beauty, Venus was known as one of the most menacing Goddesses to exist, holding far too much power among all Gods and Goddesses. Jungkook couldn't help but feel intimidated by her, even as carefree as he was known to be.
"She has far too many admirers. Even Gods are beginning to show interest in her, yet she is lacking in suitors thus far. I need you to shoot your arrow and tie her off to the most hideous creature you can muster. She may seize from being a disturbance this way."
"Okay, so you want me to doom her to an eternity with a monster?", Jungkook tilted his head in curiosity.
Despite being considered the most beautiful entity, Jungkook knew Venus to be one of the least amicable creatures in all of the land. Mortals were blissfully unaware of her cruelty, thinking her to be the most perfect among all Goddesses. However, Cupid, as her son, knew of the misery that awaited anyone who crossed the Goddess of Beauty.
Venus halted her movements in frustration, scaring the servants nearby before turning to Jungkook in annoyance, "Cupid, my son, you will obey my order without question. I gave you those wings, I gave you that bow, and I gave you that arrow. I don't care how cruel you may think me to be, this is an order. You shall not utilize your powers for your own endeavors until you finish your task," she demanded, "Now, go rid me of that wench before I find someone else to do the job."
With a sigh, Jungkook nodded in defeat, fully aware of the type of punishments his mother could deliver should he disobey her orders. Walking over to the window through which he had originally entered, he pulled his bow and arrow from his back, beginning to fly off with his wings as he embarked on a journey to seek out the mighty Psyche that had his mother so worried.
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"Y/N, there's another letter from one of your admirers," announced Psyche's mother, placing the letter on the huge pile of gifts provided by the many civilians who came visit their castle with the hope of getting a glimpse of the beautiful girl.
"Mother, what shall I do with all these? There's so many letters yet not a single suitor," you sighed, frustrated at the lack of prospects you'd had so far, "My sisters have both married, yet I am left alone with no one to seek my heart."
"Child, you should be grateful," said your mother, "You are admired through all the land, vied for as if you were a true Goddess. Someone will come for you one day, rest assured," affirmed your mother, petting your hair as she landed a soft kiss on your forehead and took her leave once more.
It was easy for your parents to grow used to the love and admiration you received. Endless people would come and dedicate themselves to their servitude if it meant as much as receiving your blessing – which was absolutely worthless as a mere princess in a land filled with mystical deities.
Your elder sisters had both been married off months back, finding old yet respectable husbands to take them away and care for them as any and all husbands should. You, however, remained alone with your parents, always hoping that a man would be brave enough to court you.
It was unfortunate, really; the way in which your beauty prevented you from receiving any suitors. You had not chosen to be blessed by Venus herself, nor did you ever hope to become her contender in the title of the most beautiful entity in all of creation. Unlike you, she had found a God to sweep her off her feet, gifting her with the fruit of love himself – her son Cupid. Oh, how you wished he'd shoot his arrow and allow you some rest from this endless search for a husband.
~
As weeks passed by, your parents became more and more worried with your state. You were unconsolable, finding misery in every letter your sisters would send in regard to their new lives with their new families. One of your sisters was already awaiting an heir. Despite your endless happiness for your loving sister, your misery at your own situation prevented you from feeling genuine excitement for a new heir in your family. You wanted your own. You needed your own.
Your constant distress caused your parents to seek out a esteemed Oracle in your city, hoping that she would be able to give some insight about your predicament. She would be able to answer the question as though who and when you would find a suitor.
Visiting her was easy enough, feeling intense excitement at the prospect of an insight into who your beloved would be. Your parents seemed indifferent, but simply hoped to ease your endless concerns.
The Oracle took the form of an old woman, one who was known to assert people's future entirely correctly. Thus far, she was yet to be erroneous in her readings. Such magic was impressive to you, leaving you worried for any bad outcome she could possibly see in your future. If she were to find something unfortunate, there would likely be no way to remedy it. However, your parents assured you that the preventive knowledge would allow you to act accordingly and fix your destiny should you need to.
"The great Psyche," smiled the old woman sitting across from you, "I have heard lots about you."
Bowing your head in respect, you introduced yourself despite her knowing you by the popular name of Psyche, "I have heard of you too. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Oracle. I hope to find a favorable end with you."
"I hope for the same."
Taking your hands, the Oracle felt them, closing her eyes in concentration as she went through every crease and contour of your hands, furrowing her eyebrows every so often. Her emotions translated onto you somehow, making your heartbeat speed up and your own eyebrows furrow in worry.
Suddenly her eyes opened, a clear distress showing through them.
"Your destiny is muddled," she began, "I cannot see too well, but your future is grand and ... it will lead to misfortune to those around you."
Your mother stepped in at such words, inquiring for more information, "What do you mean by this? What is it that you saw?"
"Your child may wed a powerful being. One among the strongest to ever be seen. She shall marry a being stronger than a God, one capable of immeasurable destruction should he choose to engage in such acts."
"A God?", asked your father.
"It is uncertain as per what I see," she responded, "All I can see is his aura radiating stronger than the sun. He shall take her and make her his own, not allowing anything to stand in his way," she reaffirmed.
"I-", you began, unable to finish your sentence as your parents quickly stood up and dragged you onto your feet.
"We shall take our leave," your mother said frantically, "We thank you for your service."
No more questions were asked as your parents dragged you by your hand, leading you out of the cursed place.
The Oracle's words had never been wrong, which meant that your future was sealed. You were to wed something that was not a man. Was he a God? There was just no way of knowing. It could've been a demon or monster seeking the most beautiful woman in the land. It could've been a God seeking a mortal to keep in his chambers as he wed a Goddess. Whatever it may have been, you were terrified.
~
"You shall leave," were your mother's first words upon arriving back to the castle.
"W-what?"
"We cannot keep you here. If a being is to come and rip you away, we cannot allow it to destroy our kingdom. Your fate is sealed, but ours remains," said your mother, your father nodding in agreement beside her.
"Where am I to go?" you whispered in disbelief.
"We will take you to the mountains. Maybe the monster shall not find you there."
"Monster? How can you be so certain?"
"Gods mustn't marry mortals, you foolish child. A God would never have to drag you away, as you would go willingly. It must be an evil creature attempting to attain your beauty."
"But-"
"No 'but's, child. It has been decided," your father gave the final verdict, thus sealing your fate even further.
To have hoped for protection from your parents had been foolish. These were the same royalty who had given away their two eldest daughters to the highest bidders, not caring for proper marriages as long as they meant protection for their kingdom. You were equally worthless to them. Should you pose any danger to their kingdom and you would simply be thrown aside, just as now.
The following days proved as a goodbye as your parents prepared your departure. They assured themselves they shall never see you again, so they made arrangements with that idea in mind. Without a care for your wellbeing, they assured themselves this was the best course of action. Your fate was sealed, after all. There was nothing they could do to protect you any longer.
It was only a few days after your visit to the Oracle that your parents made the long and extraneous walk to the lone mountains neighboring the kingdom. Climbing the highest and most lonesome peak, they bid their goodbyes to you, with your mother letting out a few worthless tears as she looked at you one last time.
Your first few days on the mountain had been miserable. You only had enough food to realistically survive a few days, but your parents had reassured you that your husband would come for you soon, likely aware that you were there for his taking. The constant fear of the most odious taking you away made you feel terror you had never experienced. Jumping into the peaks below you crossed your mind a few times, but you knew you'd survive the fall. Your fate did not predict a tragic death, which meant that any fall would not result in demise. Your metaphorical demise would only come in the form of your husband.
All you could do now was wait for him to come, hoping against all hope that he would not be as monstrous as you dared imagine.
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Jungkook was beyond annoyed at his current task.
Despite being a God, he did not hold the same almighty powers many other Gods did. His skill was the intertwining of souls, shooting his arrow any time he knew two people were meant to be tied for life.
In all honesty, he did not care for such a task. The thought of tying Psyche's fate to that of a monstrous being did not bother him in the slightest. He felt quite indifferent about it, not knowing nor caring who Psyche was. He doubted Psyche's beauty could possibly be as menacing as his mother had described, but he still felt some sort of intrigue about her appearance.
Fortunately, his curiosity was soon satiated.
After days of looking for Psyche, he finally encountered her, watching from afar as he spotted a lone woman standing on the cliff of a mountain, completely bare as her clothes laid ripped on the small surface of the mountain. It appeared that she had been there for days, likely having ripped off her own clothes in frustration.
Had you been left here for his taking? Destiny worked in mysterious ways, after all.
As of now, Cupid had only been able to see your backside, as you were facing opposite of him. Even from afar, Jungkook could not deny the beauty of your body. Every curve and contour of it had been sculpted to perfection, making the God salivate at the sight. But Jungkook had come here with a task. He needed to take care of his mother's request. There was no time to thirst after the heavenly body before him.
Reaching behind him, Jungkook grabbed onto his bow and arrow, bringing both to the front as he began to aim at you, prepared to shoot when he got the angle just right. After shooting you, he would aim his arrow at the first creature he encountered, let it be a deer or an actual monster. It did not matter much at the moment.
But as Jungkook had said, destiny worked in mysterious ways.
Jungkook had been entirely unprepared for the moment you turned around, facing him yet not seeing him from his hiding spot in the distance.
Your beauty took his breath away instantly, making him falter in his movements as his focus shifted from his arrow and onto you. Your body was the image of perfection itself, shaped perfectly for his hands to drag themselves across every inch of skin. Your curves were begging to be marked by his lips, being just the perfect size for any God to lose himself in them. And your face? Gods, it was the prettiest sight in all of Rome.
Jungkook understood now why his mother had felt threatened by your mere existence. He understood why you had so many admirers, yet no suitors brave enough to make you theirs.
Without realizing, Jungkook's hand had slipped during his daydreaming, making him misplace his hand and causing his arrow to grace him across the chest, creating a gash right by his accelerated heart.
Oh.
Oh.
Fuck.
You ...
Gods, you beautiful thing. You gorgeous, beautiful thing.
The effects of the arrow were quick in turning Jungkook into a mess of himself. His breathing accelerated, his eyes became hooded, his skin rose in goosebumps, his cock stood tall and proud. His entire body betrayed him as he rapidly fell in love with you.
His mission had failed, but he could not care for such things in this moment. Not when he felt such strong emotions of love towards you.
This was rare. His arrows caused people to fall in love, but never had they produced such a strong effect. Never had he seen a man become so immensely enamored so quickly after a shot of his arrow. Perhaps your beauty had bewitched him before his arrow struck? The details didn't really matter much to him. At least not as much as his sheer need to have you did.
But it could not be done so easily.
Gods were not meant to fall in love with humans. Should his mother ever find out and you would both meet your ruin. No, he needed to think this through. He needed to get to you, but not allow you to know of him. If you were ever to see him, you'd fall in love with him instantly.
He did not want to force such a situation onto you, so despite the sheer effort it took, Jungkook took his leave, opting to plan for an appropriate way to rescue you and make you his.
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It took a few days for your misery to come to an end.
After endless hours of agony stranded and alone on the peak of that mountain as you awaited your inevitable demise, you finally came to find some peace.
It was a voice, an unknown one, calling to you. It had been during one of the many instances in which you had found yourself wailing at your misery, completely defeated at your situation.
Suddenly a voice called out to you, reassuring words in their tongue.
"Do not fear, Psyche, nor be sorrowful beyond measure... I have come to aid you, for it is impossible that Love should go unrewarded."
Despite the words, there was no heavenly body attached to them. They had simply come from the wind.
"Who are you?", you asked.
"I am Zephyrus, the West Wind. You may never see me, but I am here to rescue you."
"Rescue me? Where shall you take me?"
"I shall take you to my master's castle. He shall care for you there."
"Your master?", was this meant to be the monster who would wed you?
"Yes. His immeasurable love for you shall be proved as he cares for you."
"Is he ... Is he a monster?"
"On the contrary. He is a heavenly body; the most heavenly of them all," reassured the West Wind.
A heavenly body? Could it really be a God?
You needed no time to consider it. You decided to you must go and meet the man who would save you from your misery.
"Take me, Zephyrus. Please."
"With pleasure."
~
You were unsure how you had arrived here, but that was the last of your concerns upon seeing your surroundings.
Currently, you found yourself in the most beautiful of palaces. Everything was made of expensive marble and tailored just to your tastes. As you explored the gorgeous abode, Zephyrus explained your current situation to you.
"You shall be cared for here, by the most competent of servants," the West Wind began, "They will rid you of all the misery you suffered on that mountain. Every bit of suffering your family brought to you shall be undone within this palace.
"Oh, thank you, Zephyrus! You don't understand how grateful I am."
"You shall not thank me. This is all your beloved's doing."
"When shall I meet him?"
"You will meet him tonight, as you lay to sleep," he began, "However, you shall not see him."
That confused you.
"What do you mean?"
"He wishes not to be seen. He will come to you in your barest of forms to reveal his undying affections, but you shall respect his wishes of not being seen. He will show up in the dark as your back faces him. This is his one and only condition," revealed Zephyrus.
"Oh."
It was disheartening, to say the least. But you owed your eternal gratitude to your future husband, so if he requested not to be seen, you would obey such order.
"I understand. Anything for my savior."
~
The next few hours were spent in luxury you had yet to familiarize yourself with.
You were bathed and fed, healed from all trace of injury during your time stranded. You were treated as a Goddess, served by invisible, voiceless servants as the wind aided you in all your needs.
It proved quite lonely, but you were still content at the knowledge that your beloved would come to you tonight.
They dressed you up as beautiful as you could imagine. Your beauty shone through the care you were given, making you appear entirely irresistible to any man who should come your way.
Oh, you were beyond excited to see your future husband. Would he allow passion to take over him when he saw you?
You had not met him yet, but you were already in love. All things Zephyrus had told you about him only made you more excited.
He detailed his feelings for you, telling you the mountains he'd move just for a single glance at you. He told you of the creation of this palace, rushed to be made to your liking just so he could care for you away from all harm.
Oh, your husband just sounded so lovely. Yet you wanted to cause his ruin upon meeting him.
You laid in bed, your natural beauty shining through the care your invisible servants had given you. Your sleeping gown allowed any to see the perfect contour of your curves as you laid in bed awaiting your beloved's arrival, back facing the window as Zephyrus had instructed.
You were not to face towards the window, allowing the dark atmosphere of the room to hide your beloved's identity. However, according to Zephyrus, your beloved would be able to see you through his magic, allowing him to get his fill of your beauty.
It only took a few hours for a voice to emerge through the window.
"Oh, my beloved," sighed the voice, approaching.
"Husband?", you asked, still lying on your side, facing away from him.
"Yes, it's me. I have not wed you yet, but you are correct. You are my wife from now on, beautiful," his steps got closer, stopping at the edge of the bed opposite your own.
"Oh, husband, how long I've waited for you!", you wailed.
He took a shaky breath, climbing the bed as his hands laid softly on your hip. Your hip had been sticking out due to your sideways position, ready for him to grab at it however he desired.
"My beautiful Psyche ... You cannot understand how badly I want you ..." he breathed, hands hesitant as they caressed the curves presented to him, "I've had to hold back from ravaging you for days. Your touch is the only cure to this madness I feel."
Never in your life had you felt such an immediate fire within you. Oh, how badly you wanted to see him and express the same sentiment.
"You shall touch me however you wish, my dear husband. Please touch me ... I am yours," you pleaded.
"Yes? You are mine? Even if you shall never see me, you wish to be mine?"
You winced at such words, sad at the implications behind never facing your husband. But his voice and touch were enough to render you powerless against him, wanting him more than you thought possible.
You whimpered when his hands went to lift up your gown, revealing your nude bottom as he continued to caress at you.
"Yes! I am yours in every way. Please ... please take me. I need your touch more than anything," you pleaded.
With a groan, he positioned you so he could kneel behind you, placing you on all fours for him. It truly did not matter if you faced him or not, as the room was far too dark for you to ever make out his mere silhouette.
His hands were greedy as he felt you up, throwing off the useless gown so he could have his fill of your body. With endless groans and puffs of breath, he touched every inch, kissing his favorite parts as he explored your body.
"You beautiful thing ... No one shall ever have this body ever again. It is mine forever. Do you understand?"
You sighed in pleasure due to his mere touch, "Yes, husband. My body is for you only."
"I am going to officially wed you as I find my rightful place inside you. This will serve as our wedding night. Okay, gorgeous?"
You nodded wordlessly, pushing up against him to encourage his touch further.
It seemed as if he was already nude, as you felt his hardness behind you when he pushed up against you in retaliation.
Oh, it was so big and warm. He would surely be your ruin.
With a groan, he entered you, making your back arch deliciously at such stretch.
"Oh ... My angel ... My beautiful Psyche. You are everything a man could want, fuck. Feel so perfect around me," the God groaned upon entering you, hands digging into your hips as he began canting his hips against yours.
He caressed you like a man in love, whimpering any time you'd get just a little too tight for him. For the first time in your life, you felt like a true Goddess, experiencing worship from a God himself.
"It's so warm and perfect ...", he sighed, "Made for me, yeah? Just for me ... My Psyche, my ruin, my perfect ruin," he murmured as he pressed kisses against your back, a new confession of love behind each one.
Meanwhile, you were rendered wordless. Nothing made sense when you felt such otherworldly pleasure. Were mere mortals meant to experience such bliss? How could you ever outlive such an experience when your beloved was giving you everything and more than you ever hoped from a husband?
Your whines filled up the room, making your husband speed up out of sheer desire for more. He encouraged your sounds, dipping a hand between your legs to play with you with his skilled fingers, drawing cry after cry out of you as his hips refused to slow down.
"You are so beautiful, fuck ..." he groaned, "Men should worship the ground you walk on. I will worship you ... Every day for the rest of our lives I will worship this beautiful body."
Nothing but love flowed between you. Your new husband's obsession with you was more than clear. The God worshiped your body with low cries of your name, hips becoming less and less coordinated by the minute. His godly stamina was no match for the feelings flowing through his body, rendering him weaker than a human man at the sight of his beloved losing herself under his touch.
Your high triggered his own, making him slump against your back as his hips attempted to hump against you throughout the entirety of his orgasm. He whimpered pathetically at the tightening of your walls, crying expletives far too explicit for a God to recite.
You did not fare any better. From the moment your husband laid his hands on you, you became a shell of your former self, your body now a vessel dedicated to pleasure. You had yet to even ask his name, too immersed in the love between you to even remember.
"My beautiful girl," he whispered as he recovered his breath, kissing along the length your back, "I will protect you for the rest of eternity," his lips went down your back, reaching your ass, "going to take care of you in any and every way," his lips eventually reached your cunt, still swollen and leaking out his own essence. He remained quiet for a few moments, likely hypnotized by the sight.
"Oh ...," he groaned upon a tentative lick against your sensitive cunt, "Need you again ... Need this cunt again," he cried, losing himself between your folds.
Losing his train of thought entirely, he held you up on your hands and knees, feasting on your cunt shamelessly. He kissed and licked at you, groaning any time your ass would push back against him, silently begging for more.
"F-feels so good ... Need y-you. Please ...", you whimpered, begging for nothing in particular. Such pleasure had you lacking any critical thought. You were likely the most mindless creature in all of the land as your husband took away all your ability to reason.
"Gonna get you there, gorgeous. Gonna make you cum and make you mine over and over again," he growled against your cunt.
With just a few more moments, you came undone once more, this time falling against the bed in sheer exhaustion. You wished to turn around and seek solace in your husband, but you knew better and opted to allow him to initiate the next contact.
Once more, he spent a few moments worshiping your limp body, kissing and sucking at every corner he enjoyed. Every so often he would mutter low praises to your person, claiming worship towards you. Unfortunately, this ended far too soon, quickly leaving you cold and alone on the bed as be suddenly got up.
"I apologize if that was too much," he chuckled, now from a small distance. You wanted to turn to confirm, but you did not dare disobey his prior order, "I, uh, I must take my leave now, my love."
That was when you truly wished to break his rule and turn to him, pleading at him to stay with you through the night. One night and you were already infatuated with him.
"You're leaving?"
The disappointment must've been clear in your voice, as he instructed you to close your eyes before he turned you around to face him, caressing your cheeks in a loving manner before landing a soft peck on your lips.
"I cannot stay the night with you, beautiful. If you wake up and find out my identity ... I don't know how I shall protect you from that."
"But-"
"It's okay, angel. I will be back night after night, giving you all the love a God can muster. Now I bid you goodnight, my love. I love you," he kissed the back of your palm, quickly disappearing from your vicinity before you could say goodbye.
When you opened your eyes he was gone, window still open and marking his sudden exit. As deflated as you felt at his departure, you also felt immense excitement for the next morning in which you'd see him, promising yourself to be prepared for him every single night to deliver your love to him.
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After weeks of becoming your husband's wife, you continued to live a life of pure bliss every night as he made love to you. It was still incomprehensible to you how he would deliver his sentiments in such a carnal way, but you were yet to have any complaints. The two of you would create the embodiment of love together every night, and you looked forward to it day after day.
But it was only the nighttime that brought you such happiness. You'd spend your days waiting for your husband to arrive, hoping for the moment in which he'd be with you and love you. He'd make conversation with you every night after making love to you, making you feel less lonely in those moments. However, you'd remain completely alone the rest of your days.
It wasn't after many pleas that your husband finally agreed to allow you some company in your new palace. Being accessible only through the flowing of Zephyrus' wind, you were completely alone at all times. It had taken vast begging from your part, but your husband eventually agreed to command Zephyrus to fly your sisters out to you, somehow managing to get into contact with them.
The last time you had seen them had been before finding out about your wretched fate through that Oracle. They remained unaware that you had been left stranded at the mountain, likely entering a panic when the news were delivered to them.
Before allowing your sisters access to his palace, your husband had warned you to stray away from their persuasion. Confused, you asked him to elaborate. He then informed you of the way in which they'd likely envy your newfound fortune and somehow wish to cause a rift between you and your husband. As one last warning, he told you to not listen to them should they tell you to unmask his identity. He loved you far too much to be ripped away from you in such a way, he had said.
You did not believe your sisters capable of attempting to sabotage the immense love you had found in the arms of your husband, but you had unfortunately been wrong.
Upon their arrival, they had showed little concern for your sudden disappearance, simply making quips about how much less their husbands provided for them, claiming they deserved more than yourself. They, of course, did not say such things to your face but rather to each other. But the winds of Zephyrus informed you of it all upon their departure. Even during their stay, they demanded you unmask your husband, claiming he must be a hideous creature if he was so insistent in hiding himself from his beloved wife.
You, unfortunately, fell for their trap. The seed of doubt had been instilled within you, making your curiosity for your husband grow more rapidly than ever. As soon as they left, you began pondering on ways to see your husband in a way that would not reveal your betrayal.
The outcome did not matter in the end. Regardless of your husband's appearance, you would fall for him time and time again just from his mere presence. Should he be the most wretched of monsters and you would still love him. His love and tenderness for you had rendered you a woman in love, and nothing would take that away.
But you needed to know. You needed to see him. You had gone far too long without seeing your soul's other half.
~
It occurred just a few nights later. The fated night in which you would finally see your husband.
By an act of the Gods above, your husband had fallen asleep right after a night of rigorous love making, holding you in his arms with the most love a man could hold for his woman.
In the sheer darkness, you managed to make your way out of your husband's hold, sneaking your way to the other side of the room with difficulty due to the complete lack of illumination in the room. After some struggle in the dark, you found a lamp, which you managed to light up with some oil.
Due to the small size of the lamp, you had to come close to your husband in order to properly see him. With hesitation, you walked over to him, holding the lamp right above his sleeping form to get the perfect view of him.
He was ...
He was the embodiment of love itself.
Before you laid Cupid, the most beautiful of all Gods.
Jungkook, as some knew him, slept under the light of your lamp, beautiful wings nowhere to be seen as he retracted them in his sleep.
You became instantly hypnotized by the sight of your beautiful husband. Your heart sped up and your eyes became heavy. His nude form was nothing short of art, and his gorgeous features were some that could never be replicated by neither man nor God.
If you hadn't already been insanely head over heels over your husband, you would've fallen for Jungkook upon a single sight. It had been the most beautiful God who had been making love to you night after night, praying to you as if you had been the deity.
Unconsciously, you grew too distracted by the sight of your beloved, not realizing you had tilted your lamp enough for some of the scorching oil to slip and trickle onto Jungkook's chest, immediately rendering him awake.
With shock in his eyes, he got up in a frantic hurry, clearly not having realized he had fallen asleep next time you. His hands went straight to soothing the burnt skin right by his chest. It didn't take long for betrayal to appear in his eyes, realizing that you had deliberately sought out a way in which to see him while he was fully unaware of your intentions.
"Psyche ...", he muttered, eyebrows furrowed as he avoided your eyes in disdain. You caught sight of tears growing in his eyes, causing pain to gnaw at your chest.
"Jungkook, I-"
He chuckled bitterly at the situation, "I warned you against this time and time again, but you became poisoned by the words of mere mortals who do not hold the love for you I so highly esteem," he took a breath, "I foolishly wounded myself with my own arrow and took the role of your lover. I feared that you'd want to cut off the head that carries these eyes that love you, so I remained a mystery to you. Yet your own love for me did not respect me enough to halt this betrayal. I- I shall take my leave. Goodbye, Y/N," he said before retracting his wings and making his way out through the window once more, hands rubbing at the growing wound on his chest due to the oil that had burnt him.
You stood there wordless, tears in your eyes as you watched your husband fly away.
Your cursed endlessly throughout the rest of your sleepless night, hoping that maybe he would come back tomorrow so you could make amends.
Tomorrow never came, and neither did the next day. From your perspective, time stood still as Jungkook continued not to show up day after day for a week. On the seventh day, your heart grew too sore to continue waiting for him without taking action.
Although you blamed your own greed for him for your betrayal to him, you also blamed the instigators – your sisters.
But they were your sisters no more. They were simply obstacles to overcome in the journey to gain Jungkook's trust back. And nothing would stop you.
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A new sense of vengeance took over you astonishingly fast. Without a second thought, you managed to contact each of your sisters individually, making claims of your husband, Cupid himself, becoming unforgiving of your betrayal and demanding your departure, announcing that he would wed your sister instead. Each of your greedy sisters fell for the lie and one by one fell to their death as they attempted to make their way to Cupid's castle.
As for you, you managed to convince the West Wind to fly you off the mountains so you could begin your journey to your beloved. Hurt and disheartened, you spent weeks in search of him, not mindful at all of how battered you became with the passing of time. Any pain would be worth Jungkook's forgiveness.
However, your state of mind and exhaustion led you to multiple attempts at ending your own life, attempting to drown yourself or jump off cliffs, always surviving almost unscathed by some cruel act of the Gods. Without Jungkook's forgiveness life was simply not worth living.
In the meantime, Jungkook found himself in his mother's chambers, healing from the wound you had caused as his mother let out her fury at the discovery of her son's new lover.
"So you decided to wed your mother's nemesis? You decided that you shall bring this wench upon me and tie her to me for eternity?", she seethed as Jungkook disregarded her, too exhausted to respond.
"I shall find that hideous wench and rid the world of her myself," she decided, calling over a few servants to direct them to deliver you to them, "And you," she turned to Cupid once more, "You useless child. I shall birth another one just to spite you for your disrespect."
Those were her last words as she exit the chambers, leaving Jungkook to his rest once more. He wanted to worry for you, but his wound of the heart needed more healing before he could allow himself to go find you for himself. Within him, he thought of you fondly, hoping you'd survive his mother's wrath.
~
It did not take long for Venus to find you and bring you to your knees before her, expressing every foul thought she had of you with no shame.
"You believe to be worthy of Cupid, the prettiest God to lay foot on this world? Fine. Should you complete my tasks and I shall stay out of your way. Should you fail, I will do with you as I please."
Having spent weeks alone in the wilderness, injured in every way imaginable, you could not see a better outcome to such a situation. You agreed without thinking twice, knowing that no fate was worse than your current one.
You were assigned impossible tasks, one by one, as Venus sat back and awaited for your inevitable demise.
Much to her surprise, the divine forces had helped you in the completion of each one.
The first task had been to sort an immense amount of grains before morning. The grains amounted to an innumerable quantity, which proved the task to be impossible. Upon your defeat, you fell asleep halfway through the task, somehow waking up to find ants assisting you in its completion. By the time Venus arrived, she had a frown on her face at the sight of the achievement.
Her anger did not last, as she assigned you the next impossible task with ease.
Upon being ordered to gather golden fleece from magic sheep, you knew that this time you'd truly meet your demise. The sheep were extremely aggressive and known to kill a man in mere seconds. However, by another act of the Gods above, the reeds by the riverbank suddenly advised you to await til morning in order to freely gather the fleece that the sheep had shed.
The completion of this task also brought anger to Venus' demeanor, causing her to provide you with yet another impossible task. The completion of the final task finally led to the hardest of them all; one that would finally render you no longer.
Your final task had been to travel to the underworld and bring Venus a box of beauty. There were far too many intricate steps to be followed, but your love for Jungkook was enough to lead your journey.
Finally, upon your arrival, you held the box of beauty in your hands, ready to deliver it to Venus and finally receive her blessing in wedding her son. But once more, your curiosity grew too big.
Before arriving to the mighty Goddess, your hands took a mind of their own, forcing you to take a peak at the box. If you were to officially wed your beloved Cupid, a little extra beauty would surely be helpful.
Your naïveté finally led you to your final moments, causing you to enter eternal sleep upon a small peek of the box's contents. Still slightly conscious, you laid in your lonesome, unable to move nor think.
In your final moments, all you could think of was your beautiful Cupid and how badly you had hoped to live for him. To live to love him once more.
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It took Jungkook a few days after his mother's final warning to him to fully recover from his injury.
Being aware of his mother's anger towards you, his immediate thought upon gaining his energy back was to seek you out and rescue you from whatever threat his mother must've been holding over you. He was unsure if she had managed to find you, but he could not take the risk of waiting to find out, knowing your life was likely in danger.
It took interrogating a few servants in order to track you down, now making it his mission to save you from his mother's disdain.
When he had been informed of the endless grueling tasks you had taken on just for a chance to see him again, Jungkook's heart melted. His love for you had never gone away, but his hurt had blinded him as his wound debilitated him. Now fully recovered, he was able to realize that his endless adoration for you was mutual. Your stubborn desire to see him had not been born out of malice, but out of love for him. He understood now. Had he been denied of your beauty for a single day, he would've lost all sense of sanity.
You were currently on your final task, Jungkook had been informed. Worried about your safety, he set out to take the same journey, traveling to retrieve the box himself in case you had somehow not made it on your own. He grew impressed when he reached the end of the journey and found that you had already retrieved it and were currently on your way back.
Jungkook continued to travel in search of you, growing more worried by the second as he did not find you. The moment he finally encountered you, his wings gave out in him, causing him to fall due to the sudden worry the sight caused him.
You were lying on the ground, vulnerable and alone as you held the box against your chest. You must've opened it, he assumed, knowing your curiosity could easily get the best of you.
Running to you, he held you to his arms, throwing the box aside as he caressed your limp body in his arms.
"Oh, Psyche ... My beautiful, curious girl," he tsk'd, "Your curiosity became your undoing once more," he scolded lightheartedly, tears in his eyes at being able to hold you again.
Leaning down, he pressed a lone kiss to your lips, whispering against them as he did so, "Come back to me, my love. Let me make you mine again."
Within seconds your body regained its consciousness, leaving you disoriented for a few moments. Upon realizing Jungkook was holding you, a look of awe in his eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible to you as you cried into his chest.
"Oh, my beautiful girl," he wrapped himself around you, retracting his wings so they'd shield you both from the outside world, "Don't cry for me, my love. I'm here. I adore you more than I can possibly describe."
You wailed apologies into his chest, weaved with many confessions of your love for him. He took them all in with a smile on his face, refusing to let go of you as he memorized the shape of your body against his own.
"Love you so much, my sweet ruin. No one can ever harm you again," he assured, leaving endless kissed against your hair. He finally pulled away, wiping your tears with his thumbs as he looked into your eyes, "Let me take you home, my love."
~
"My beautiful girl ... How I missed you, fuck," groaned the pretty angel as he laid kisses down your neck.
He pushed you up against the wall the moment he flew you back to his recluse palace, rendering you speechless with just a few kisses. Jungkook wasted no time in showing you his love through words and touches, finally able to face you while he loved on you.
Sighing as he kissed down your neck, you molded yourself to his liking, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You were far too enamored by the God, feeling nothing but inhuman addiction to his touch.
"I adore you more than you could ever understand," he breathed out as his hand ripped apart your worn out gown, wanting to finally see you bare face to face. With a shuddering breath, he got his fill of your body, caressing at every inch his eyes went over, feeling the carnal need to memorize every curve.
Turning you around, he pressed you up to his front, grinding against you as he felt you up, groaning breathily into your ear.
"I have wanted your body since I first laid eyes on you," he whispered, hips slow and sensual in their grinding, "I can finally have you however I want. Oh, my angel, I'm going to render you useless by the time I'm done with you."
Your Cupid then grabbed you and led you to the bed, where you positioned yourself on your hands as knees as you usually did. Shaking his head, Jungkook stops you before you settle on the bed, instructing you to turn around and lay face up for him.
"No, beautiful. Turn to me. Want to see you. Want to make love to you while you look at me with those pretty eyes," Jungkook moaned against your lips.
There was not much warning before Jungkook slipped inside you. But it did not matter. Your body welcomed him with no struggle, having become far too thirsty for his touch in the weeks of your separation.
Out of all the times you'd made love, this was by far the most intimate. Jungkook love and caressed you with an inhuman infatuation in his eye, groaning any time you'd so much as look into his eyes as he pounded into you.
"Oh, my Psyche ... Love you so much ... Always loved you. Always needed y-you, oh fuck ..." his eyes closed in pleasure, pressing his face into your neck to breathe you in. His hips were incorrigible, with Jungkook being far too drunk with lust to have any finesse in his movements.
"My Jungkook ... My Cupid ... You pretty angel, I missed you so much, so- oh, so much!", you cried, your eyes becoming clouded with tears all while your nails dug into his back. You could feel the scars from which his wings would retract, caressing them softly.
"Oh ... Oh, angel, d-don't do that- My wings are too sensitive, my Psyche, d-don't ..."
This only encouraged you to do it more, caressing his erogenous zone softly and sensually, causing him to cry against your ear, whimpering in an ungodly way that had your eyes rolling back at just the sound.
Your pretty angel babbled against you, letting out nonsensical rambles about how much he loved you and how he could never let you go again. How he would breed you and give you an heir and bring you both to the land of the Gods with him.
Practically sobbing against each other, still grinding like mindless animals, the two of you found your highs together, continuing to stimulate each other throughout the entirety of your orgasms. Your mutual whimpers filled up the room, making the experience all the more erotic.
Finally, you two laid against each other, breathing heavily as you refused to let go of one another.
You were still beat and battered from your weeks in search of your Cupid, but that was the last thing on your mind. All you cared about was holding onto Jungkook and never letting go.
Holding you even closer against him, Jungkook wrapped himself around you, pulling out with a groan as he spooned you in his arms, breathing in your hair and humming against you. He reassured you about any worry you may have had in regards to your future together, assuring you that your injury to him had fully head and that he could never hold any type of negative feeling towards you for long.
You no longer would have to worry about his mother's schemes, Jungkook assured, as he would go to Zeus himself to grant you immunity amongst all Gods. He'd convert you into a Goddess yourself, he promised, so that he could give you a heavenly heir and grow old with you until eternity. Nothing in this world could ever separate Cupid from his beloved Psyche. Jungkook would never let anything keep him away from his one and only beloved.
"I adore you, my Psyche, my beautiful ruin. I will always protect you," he sighed one last time, eyes growing heavy as you turned around in his arms and cuddled against his warm chest.
"I love you my Cupid," you kissed at the small burn mark the oil of your lamp had left, humming against his chest.
You fell asleep calmly in each other's arms, knowing you'd wake up to an eternity of love between one another.
a/n: im sorry if the pacing seems all over the place but i promise this is how the original story goes 😭
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to read short 3.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!
content: afab reader, continuation and conclusion of the cupid and psyche lore/story (this is kinda like a pt. 2 honestly oops), impregnation, mentions of oral, jungkook is obsessed with reader its insane, pregnancy sex implied (but not really bc its after one day of the insemination lol), jungkook is a god so yk endless sex, smut, penetrative sex (like three times lol), etc.
wc: 639 (teaser); 3313 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"Hmm, my beautiful Psyche," hummed Jungkook against you, stretching his body before cuddling further into you, absolute bliss in his voice.
After a night of extraneous love-making, Jungkook finally awoke in your arms, a smile instantly making its way onto his face at the remembrance of the previous night.
After having brought you back to the palace he built for you, he made love to you, finally able to look into your eyes as you both lost yourselves to the pleasure found in each other's touch. The thought of your gorgeous whines for him still made him shudder, having to will his boner away at the memory.
Then he thought about everything else that had happened since your separation.
He recalled all the trials you had gone through this past week, all to gain access to his heart, a heart that had belonged to you from the moment he laid eyes on you. It was hard not to feel immense guilt at knowing how badly you had struggled from the moment he left you alone in that palace, too hurt and stubborn to realize that your love for him would have you risking your life just for one more chance. In hindsight, he should've understood, specially considering that his own heart burned for you harshly enough for him to want to give up his Godly powers for you if he so had to.
Then he remembered the worst part of it all.
His mother was still seething with vengeance for you, not having found satisfaction in your death while completing her useless tasks. Jungkook knew that she never meant to even consider giving her blessing for the two of you to be together. It had all been a ruse to make you find your demise under the false pretense that you would somehow earn Jungkook's forgiveness by the end of it all.
What you didn't know was that Jungkook didn't need to forgive you. His love for you overpowered every other fleeting thought in his brain. One look from your remorseful eyes and he would be on his knees, begging you for forgiveness.
He pondered as he watched you sleep in his arms, blissful yet still wounded by your weeks of pain.
How shall he make up for all the suffering you endured while he recovered from his wound? How could he make amends for making you think for even one second that he'd dare try and live without you by his side?
His experience as a carnal lover had not prepared him for such feelings. There had been no training or preparation for him to understand the way you made his heart rush, the way you altered every aspect of his being.
All he could think about was how you were his beautiful Psyche and how ... how badly he wanted to put an heir in you.
The thought had seemed been sudden, but he had actually thought of it from the moment he found you waiting for him in bed that first night. You, full for him, manifesting the greatest form of love as you grew his seed inside you.
An heir would be the solution to all problems.
An heir would bring you an instant pass to the land of the Gods, forcing Zeus to turn you into a Goddess in order for you to birth a Godly child. It would also make his mother accept the gift he'd bring upon her, unable to deny a child created by the God of love himself. Lastly, this heir would also be his own gift to you – a showcase of his endless love for you and the future he was to create with you.
But most of all, it would quench the thirst Jungkook was currently feeling at the mere thought of marking you as his as humanly possible.
...
find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!
if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3
1K notes · View notes
pinguwrites · 6 months
Note
Ooooh, what about this? Future!reader accidentally time traveled to 1940s when she met William Killick, and he had to take care of her due to injuries she had. She ended up staying with him while rejecting his advances because she was trying to find a way to go back to future, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she were to accept his advances, but she didn’t know William was sabotaging the solutions to ensure she would stay with him forever.
THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL LIKE HOLY SHIT. I was about to write something like this with Tommy in Black Heart, but I opted out, and I hadn't even considered this with William, so I'm so glad you requested it!!
this was supposed to be a short-length fic lol, it's like the longest thing I've ever written on here
Home Is Where the Heart Is ⸻ William Killick
pairing | william killick x future!reader
summary | You don't think much of the box when it arrives at your front door. That is, until you open it and are transported decades into the past. There, you fall into the arms of a handsome soldier, who is intent on making you stay.
word count | 9k
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Warnings: DUB-CON, possessive!william, future!reader, period typical sexism it's okay when it's william, reader has a software job, weird time travel plot (who knows how the box got there? it's totally not going to be revealed in part two ;) ), mentions of war, reader simps so hard, p in v sex, breeding kink
Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.
A/N: I'm honestly not too proud with how rushed it was, but I'm glad it's out there. I'm definitely doing a part two. Be warned for errors.
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You were lying in a field of grass, tall, bushy trees lining the area around you. You seemed to be in some type of countryside because in the distance you could faintly see quaint little houses and farmland (at least, you assumed it was; your vision was awfully blurry), but other than that, you had no clue as to where you were.
“Ah,” you hissed, noticing the cut on your body. When you arrived — however that happened — you had scrapped your arm on a sharp rock embedded in the dirt, and now it was bleeding, red blood trickling down your arm.
You sighed miserably, trying to make sense of the situation.
Yesterday, a packaged box arrived on your front doorstep. No address, no company, just a note in pen, To [Y/n] [L/n]. You were a little wary of its contents but brought it inside anyway. You opened it and uncovered a machine, steel and simple in its construction, yet difficult to understand. There was no instruction manual or labels for the buttons, and it took you a while to know if you were even looking at it right, the only hint being the Roman numerals inside the dials.
After tinkering around with it, you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, you were in a completely other place. All you had on were your clothes, some money, and your phone, which, surprise surprise, had no signal, so all you could do was look at your downloads — completely useless — and take a photo. 
I must’ve been drugged, you thought, still feeling hazy. I should have called the cops the moment I realized something was off.
You got up and took off your socks, trying to stop the bleeding with it. It wasn’t the most hygienic, but it was all you had at the moment, and you weren’t about to tear off pieces of the shirt you had on, especially not when you were already shivering. 
The contraption had traveled with you, and though you were aware it was the reason you were here in the first place, you thought it better to bring it along, as evidence. You could show it to the government, and they could use their little science ways to find the culprit. All would be fine.
All will be fine.
You started walking. You didn’t have any shoes on for protection, so it was difficult to step across the dirt, with all its rocks and insects swarming about, but you managed to get to grass quick enough, and it felt much better, almost healing to walk barefoot on the softness of mother nature.
But you didn’t get very far. Eventually, your stomach started grumbling, and you felt like your intestines were twisting inside with desperation. Your sock was now red, and your hand was trembling, so with a defeated sigh, you let go, of both the sock and the heavy machine, allowing the blood to flow freely. You bent over to pick the sock back up first, but the sudden movement made your head reel, and before you knew it, you were out again.
+++
“You’re awake,” a voice said, a male’s voice, a British accent that sounded like butter. Oh, butter, if you could get your hands on that alone you would be satisfied. 
You opened your eyes, blinking. A figure, with pale skin and dark hair made it’s way over to you, and in a panic, you crawled away, eyes darting across the room. You were on a bed, bandages on your arm, but before you could calm down or even begin to think properly, panic took over, your heart rate elevated, and you sighed, before passing out again.
+++
For about the third time today, or however long you were out, you woke up. This time your vision was much clearer, but you still had this nasty migraine in your head. You were sick inside, the kind of sick that happens when you haven’t eaten in a while but can’t eat because you feel like you’ll throw up. 
You wondered if you were in the same place again. You remembered a man, with a soothing voice, but he wasn’t here right now. Though the possibility that you had been kidnapped entered your mind, you noticed the lack of bonds and chains on your body. He was probably just helping you, you reasoned.
You slowly got out of bed, wincing at the shooting pain in your arm. You observed your surroundings. The bedroom was very minimalist, and . . . quirky. You loved the design and the materials used, as it reminded you of a cottage, but there was nothing helpful in sight. All the technology you could see, like the kitchen, needed to be updated and was worn out. There was some type of record player, or CD tape, or whatever that was called, on one of the counters and a radio beside it. 
You didn’t bother with any of that. You were thirsty, throat dry and gnawing at you, so you went to look for water, hoping that whoever lived here didn’t go out and get it from a fucking well. He probably does. Look at this place!
“Shit!” you swore, your knees buckling from underneath you. You felt so weak and miserable and vulnerable. It hit you at this moment that you were probably a hundred miles away from home, in a strange place in a strange home you’d never seen before. How were you going to get back? What were you going to do?
Tears started welling in your eyes. You hated that you were being so emotional. Why couldn’t you toughen up and deal with the situation like a proper adult?
You leaned onto the counter, trying to balance yourself, when the front door opened up, and the man you saw before walked in, carrying a bag full of vegetables and other foods. He quickly placed the bag down and held you in his arms, his warmth comforting and relaxing.
He had short, dark hair, and a sharp jawline, and from this distance, you could see light freckles scattered across his cheeks. He had the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen, like glaciers, like the ocean. Fuck, he was so handsome. 
“Here,” he said, guiding you back to the bedroom. He set you down on the bed, gazing at you with such intensity, like adoration or devotion. 
“W-who are you?” you asked, voice cracking. “Where am I? Hngh.” You rubbed your temples. Didn’t he have any pain medications?
“My name is William. William Killick,” the man introduced softly. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.” He went off into the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. You drank it slowly, the cool liquid flowing through your body, wetting your mouth. “I didn’t know if you had family nearby, so I took you to my place.”
William paused, as if thinking of what to say next. “Get more rest, it’s night.”
You hadn’t even noticed the time, but one look out the window told you he was right. It was pitch black outside.
“You’ll wake up tomorrow, and have some breakfast.”
You shook your head, and handed the glass back to him, only for him to set it down on the nightstand table. “Where’s my phone? Where’s my . . . box?”
He stared at you blankly, before clearing his throat. “Your stuff is in the back. I didn't know what it was — hey, don’t move.” William’s strong hands kept you in place, pushing you back down to the bed as gently as he could whilst still keeping a firm grip. “Rest,” he ordered. “Don’t need you fainting on me again.”
You wanted to argue, but you couldn’t. You laid your head on the pillow, without a choice but to trust William, and fell asleep, wrapping yourself in the blanket with a content sigh. All the questions you had, all the thoughts, faded away and were replaced by darkness.
+++
You dreamt of yourself and yourself. You, the spectator, were standing outside a window, but it wasn’t just any window. It was your window, the one that led to the inside of your bedroom, where you could see you and William — the strange man — entangled in the sheets. Lovers. You two were lovers. You two were making love. 
Anyone would have felt creepy watching someone else, and anyone would have noticed someone watching them, but none of that happened. The sun should have cast a shadow on you, but it didn't. The passerby should have called you out, but they didn’t. 
You had just enough awareness to realize that this was a dream. How were you back at home already? Why were you and William kissing?
While originally you felt nothing, like a simple observer without thoughts, you were suddenly flooded with heavy emotions. Confusion, shame, lust, confusion.
But in just a few moments, the world around you crumbled, like an earthquake, and the sun and moon passed by, stars moving across the heavens, and you were warped by time, back in the same place you were before. 
+++
You woke up with a gasp, cold sweat running down your body, and immediately William was by your side. You rested your head on his chest, grasping onto his shirt desperately, not wanting him to leave. 
“Shh, shh,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair.
“Sorry,” you muttered, making no effort to leave his side. “I don’t know . . .”
“Shh.”
You both were like this for a while. Faint images of your dream passed through your mind, and from what little you remembered, you assumed it had been a wet dream. 
I can’t believe it, you thought. Having a wet dream — about a guy I barely met. Control yourself!
You pulled away, already missing his warmth. William frowned a little but didn’t say anything. “What’s your name, darling?” he asked. 
You hesitated.
“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“[Y/n],” you finally told him. “Where are we?”
William narrowed his eyes. You had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on, but you didn’t want to press.
“Wales,” William answered.
You froze. How the fuck did you get to Wales? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.
“Um, that’s nice,” you said awkwardly. “How long has it been since you found me?”
“A few days.”
You tried not to panic, but all you could think about was your job and your friends and your family. Have you been reported missing yet?
“You must be hungry,” William said. “I’ll cook something for you. I’m not the best, but I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”
“It’s alright.” You waved his concern off, though it did tug at your heartstrings that he was worried. “I'll get some fast food.”
You dug through your pockets, hoping your wallet was still in there. Thankfully it was. You pulled it out and grabbed two crisp twenty-dollar bills, but William hissed and pushed it back in, his hand not leaving yours. 
“What are you doing carrying around that much money?” he asked, giving you an incredulous look. “How are you meant to protect yourself? Where’d you get that? Do you have a husband?”
You pushed his hand away. “I work. And what’s the problem?” 
You knew that the American dollar wasn’t equivalent to a British pound, but was the difference that bad? Sure, forty dollars was a lot of money if you were just going to a gas station or something, but nothing to get excited over. 
William huffed. “You can’t just show me that much money like that. What if I was a thief, hmm? What would you do then?”
“Are you?” you asked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal out of it.
“No. I’m a gentleman.”
You scoffed, amused, but there was a little smile on your face. “A gentleman?”
“Yes,” he insisted. “A proper man.”
There was a moment of silence between you both. You wanted him to hold you again, but you thought it would be best if you just went on your way. 
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, getting up from the bed. “And bandaging me and all.” You gave him one of the bills. “I know it’s in dollars, but I’m sure you can convert it.”
William didn’t take the money. “You’re not leaving — you’re still hurt. I’d be remiss if I let a lass half as pretty as you alone on the streets.”
You chalked up his way of talking to the region. You honestly found it quite attractive. That, coupled with his British accent, made you feel like you were in one of those romance movies. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t in love with you and that you were just acting irrational and horny.
“I’ll be fine. We’ll exchange numbers, do you have a charger?”
“What?”
“A phone charger. My phone’s probably dead.”
“The box?”
You narrowed your eyes. “No, the rectangle. The phone.”
“Ah, the one that glows?”
You briefly wondered if he simply didn’t know what a phone was. You knew some people preferred not to have modern technology in their life.
“Yes. I need to call someone — ”
“ — It stopped glowing.”
Great. William obviously didn’t have a charger. And if he didn’t know what it was, no one nearby would. All that was next to do would be to walk to a big city and hope someone there could help you get back home.
“Look, darling.” You ignored the way your heart fluttered when he called you that. “I don’t know what a phone is, or why you’re here, but I know that you still need to recover.”
“I appreciate it,” you said. “But I really have to go. I have work and — ”
“ — Surely you can take a day off. What is it you do?” William asked. 
“I’m a software developer. I code.”
William had a blank face. A pink blush dusted his cheeks. He cleared his throat, “I, er, I’ve never heard of that. You mean computers? The big ones that take up a room?”
“No, it’s not the fifties.”
“Well, 1946 is close.”
You didn’t know what to make of that. “What does 1946 have to do with this?”
William observed you intently. “The year. The year is 1946.”
You blinked. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be the 20th century — that was impossible. So many things were wrong with that. How come it was you who traveled in time? Why didn’t the government know about this? Even if you were ignoring the question of how, there were still so many whys.  
“No,” you said slowly, inching away from William. What kind of sick prank was this? He was supposed to be helping you, not confusing you. “You’re messing with me.”
William sensed that you were uncomfortable, because he backed away, his hands in the air. You could tell he was waiting for the perfect moment to get closer.
“I’m not a liar . . . Are you from the future?”
Fuck. You weren’t sure. How could that even be possible?
“No,” you said hesitantly. “I dunno, I must be . . .”
Your eyes subtly peered past William and at the door. If only you could get past him . . . 
You looked straight at the window, making sure to grab his attention. “Oh,” you whispered, putting on your best shocked expression. The moment he was distracted you sprinted past him and bolted out of the room and out the house, running across the field to the next house you could see. Your arm still hurt, but you were willing to shove down the pain.
“No, no, please!” William shouted, running after you. 
In just a minute, he had caught up to you and tackled you to the ground. He pinned your hands above your head and sat on your lower stomach, rendering you useless. His lips were so close to yours, and the look on his face was pissed.
“What are you doing?” he asked, voice forceful, gripping onto your wrists tighter. 
“P-please,” you pathetically sputtered out. “Don’t hurt me.”
He didn’t budge. “I’m trying to help you — I’m not lying to you, and I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re hurting me now,” you cried, squirming.
William’s eyes softened as he realized what he was doing. “You promise not to run again?”
You nodded, your lower lip wobbling. 
“Alright.”
He still didn’t let go of you, but he did pull you up from the ground, wiping the dirt off of your back. Tears flowed down your cheek like rainwater, and you couldn’t help but curl in on yourself.
William held onto your arm as he walked you back to the house, not allowing you another chance of escape, but he did wipe your tears gently and soothe you. You felt embarrassed. Why did you run? You had acted purely on instinct there. This man was clearly only trying to help. 
“Look,” he said softly, sitting you back down on the bed like a child. “I’ll take you into town, hmm? Show you around and all — maybe that’ll convince you. You must be quite far into the future to be dressing like that and to have a . . . phone with you, so things will be different, right? What year are you from?”
“. . . 2023.”
“I knew it. On your phone, there was a date. I wasn’t sure then, but . . .” William suddenly reached his hands up and rubbed his thumb across your chapped lips, catching you off guard. “They’re dry,” he said. “I’ll draw up a bath for you so you can bathe while I cook. I’ll get you some lotion afterward.”
You nodded. What else could you do?
+++
William had cooked some simple fish and chips while you cleaned yourself. You had to use a tin tub, which was insane to you, but you didn’t complain about it. He supplied you with clothing, an old-fashioned dress his mother had accidentally left here. You were grateful it was not from some ex-girlfriend or wife, even though you had no right to feel that way. You put aside your other clothes to wash later.
After finishing with that, you sat down at the dining table, and like the hungry girl you were, you gobbled the food down eagerly. It was so fresh and delicious, not at all like the food you had in the future, pumped with chemicals and artificially bred. You tried to be as neat as you could, but it was difficult when you were starving. William had watched on with amusement, telling you to slow down and straighten your back every once in a while.
He took the plates away when you both were done, and then did as he promised and gave you some lotion, but instead of letting you apply it, he took a bit of cream on his fingers and rubbed it on your lips. “Stay still,” he murmured. 
“I-I can do it—”
“No, you can’t. You’re still injured.”
You understood his reasoning. And you didn’t mind him touching you like that.
“The rest of my body is dry, too,” you blurted out.
What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this man. Trying to get him to touch the rest of your body — stupid girl.
William’s breathing hitched. “As in . . . your knees as well?”
“. . .”
He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Put them out, over my lap.”
You bit your lower lip, watching on as he rubbed his hands over your legs. His touch was so warm and it felt more like a massage. You felt bad about doing this, leading him on. If he was right about the time travel, then you couldn’t entertain any sort of relationship with him. It wouldn’t be fair. 
But it was just an act of service. It didn’t mean much, right?
“Oh, that’s nice,” you said, resting your head on the bed. You felt a bit off allowing a random man to do this to you, but he wasn’t random now, was he? He had saved you. And besides, he was he who insisted he rub the lotion in the first place.
“What is the future like?” William asked. “Is there another war?”
“Sort of. Not really,” you answered, which panicked William. “Don’t worry. If you’re talking about America and Russia, no one dies.”
William chuckled. “I should hope not. I don’t fancy serving in another world war.”
“You served?” you asked curiously. 
“Yes. As a captain in the British Army.”
You supposed it was normal. Most men in this time either signed up for the military or were drafted. You couldn’t imagine the horrors William must have gone through. You would never be able to understand the trauma he carried with him. You were curious, but you knew better than to ask. He didn’t need your pity, and you certainly didn’t want to offend him.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“For what?”
“That it had to happen. War and all that.”
“Does war not happen in the future?”
Now you felt a little stupid.
“Well — yes. It does. I’m just sorry. We learned about the world wars in history — and I just — I’m not claiming to know anything. Yeah, sorry.” You looked down.
William didn’t say anything to that. He just kept rubbing your dry skin. Afterward, he put the lotion away and sat next to you, running his fingers through your hair.
“I expect stories from you. I want to hear everything about the future.” 
You still didn’t believe you were in the past, at least, not completely.
 “You can tell me as we pass through town,” he added.
“I need to wash my clothes first.”
Willian narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to wear that anymore.”
“Why not?”
He pursed his lips. “It’s too revealing. A woman should never go out wearing those types of clothing.” He sighed. “Perhaps it’s different in the future, but here, you’ll get hurt if you dress like that.” He continued playing with your hair. “I want you to be safe. So, you have to promise me that you’ll stay by my side at all times, yes?”
You nodded. You always thought that if you caught men talking to you like this, you would slap them, but here you were, turned on by William’s sexism. It was different, you reasoned. He was more focused on protecting you than restricting you. Was it bad that you found that hot?
“Good girl,” he said proudly. “Good girl.”
+++
Walking through town had been more of a frightening experience than you expected. You realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were indeed in the past. Producing a prank with this level of investment and money was pointless, and you never had any mental issues in the past, so why would one suddenly show up now? And even if it did, you couldn’t possibly be imagining this all in your head. 
All the cars were shiny and new, yet old models, ones that wouldn’t be produced in the future. All the women and men wore traditional clothing, like the dress William picked out for you. The hairstyles were medium-length and curled, or slicked back, with lots of gel and products used to keep them in place. You were grateful William didn’t ask you to do any of that. Not that you would have let him. At a certain point, you would have drawn a line.
“I have to get back,” you told William as you walked on a trail. “The machine has something to do with it. I just have to figure out how it works.”
“That’s an engineering job,” he pointed out.
“I’m good at math and science. I work in advanced technology, so I should be able to figure something out. All it needs is a bit of testing . . . I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while until I figure out a place to stay. I’ll give you all the money I have and I promise I’ll find a job — ”
“ — No need. Stay as long as you like. I don’t want your money. I won’t stop you from finding a job, but it’s not necessary. I can handle any expenses.”
You didn’t argue with him. He didn’t seem averse to the idea of letting a stranger stay at his place. It made sense. People in this time were more hospitable and open (at least, when they felt like it), and William, being a man from the forties, would never allow you to carry any of the financial burden.
You still felt a little bad. 
“Thank you. It means a lot to me. Now, what is it you want to hear about the future?”
William’s eyes lit up excitedly. “Do flying cars exist?”
You chuckled. “No. But we have self-driving ones.”
“Self-driving? How do they work?”
You paused. You had no idea. “I’m not sure. They probably have sensors to detect other cars. And, well, there’s a map. So it’s connected to a satellite . . .”
“Satellite?”
“It’s this thing in space. It does . . . stuff. It’s manmade.”
“Space? Have we discovered alien life?”
“No. But we have sent rovers to Mars and we’ve landed a person on the moon.”
William stopped walking. “The moon?” he repeated, bewildered. “Have you gone?”
I wish. “It’s only for astronauts. You have to be trained for that sort of stuff.”
“And when did this all happen?”
“Around the 1960s. There was a space race between America and Russia, and America won.”
Once you got the ball rolling, William would not stop asking questions. You answered them as best as you could and avoided topics like the current political climate and weaponry and all that. After he was done with all the serious stuff, like advancements in science and whether robots had taken over the world yet, he moved on to more social and cultural topics. You were relieved to find out that he wasn’t racist or homophobic or incredibly misogynistic. If anything he was rather tame about it all, and was glad that women had earned more rights, though he seemed upset that the dynamic of a gentlemanly husband and lady-like housewife wasn’t pushed upon society. 
“There’s nothing wrong with things going the opposite way around,” he had said. “Two people of the same gender marrying. It’s only that women need to be looked after, and if she doesn’t want to work, then it is her man’s obligation to do it for her. And in return, she must be obedient and serve him whenever he pleases — whether it’s by cleaning the house or . . . other things.”
“And what if she doesn’t want it?” you questioned, referring to the other things.
“A man should always make sure she likes it.”
You could practically feel all the feminism leaving your body at that.
The conversation ended when you reached back home (home? It’s not your home, you reminded yourself). William replaced your bandages with care. You were already starting to feel better, since the cut wasn’t too big, and you offered to help with cooking dinner this time.
After that, you decided to tinker with the box.
It was made out of some type of metal, with two different dials on the top and a button on the side. But it wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before. The first dial went from zero to nine (zero being nulla) in Roman numerals, and had four hands, each of them colored in order: red, green, blue, and yellow. Respectively, there were four tiny colored knobs on the side, like the ones by a watch, where you could move each hand. The other dial was the same case.
“It must be the date,” you said aloud to yourself. “But which is which?”
Taking a gamble, you pressed the button, but it didn’t do anything. All it did was signal a small lens to start blinking red. 
“Are you sure you should do that now?” William asked, coming up from behind you. “Look at this.” He crouched to your level on the floor. “Your eyes have bags underneath them. You’re still tired.”
You rubbed the area beneath your eyes. Did they really have bags? You hadn’t realized.
“I should probably go to sleep then,” you said, putting the box down and getting up.
William walked you over to the bedroom, and was about to leave when you asked, “Where are you sleeping?”
“The couch.”
You frowned. “It’s your house and I’m your guest. You’ve already done so much for me – ”
“— If you’re going to suggest you sleep on the couch, then it’s a no. That’s final.”
“But — ”
“ — Final.”
You sighed. “Then come sleep with me. I’ll stay on the floor—”
“ — No—”
“ — Then we can share the bed. We’ll put a wall of pillows between us, like this.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed, separating the two sides. “Not so bad, see?”
William relented. “Alright.”
He crawled into bed with you. His hair fell over his face as he adjusted, and the last rays of sunlight coated his body in colors of orange and yellow. If your phone wasn’t dead, you would have asked him to sit still for a picture, because at this moment, he truly looked breathtaking. He was a beautiful man. You wondered if he knew it.
“What?” William asked when he noticed you staring.
Flustered, you turned your head to look up at the ceiling. “Nothing. I was just making sure you were comfy.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see William lick his lower lip. 
“You’re a sweet lass,” he commented. “You always think about others first.”
He reached over, and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you (which, admittedly, despite having had a wet dream about him, scared you), but he only brushed a small speck of dust off your shoulders and murmured “Goodnight”, before burying his chin into the blanket and drifting off into sleep.
You followed in suit soon after. A part of you was hoping that you could start a life here. You’d buy a nice house and live out a simple and peaceful life. You and William didn’t even have to be romantically involved. You could just be friends, and you would be happy with that. 
But a part of you also hoped that when you woke up the next morning you would be back in your own bed, in your small one-story house that you remember being so excited about buying. You knew you would never like living here in the long term. There were too many things wrong with this time and you didn’t want to be the brunt of its issues. Not only that but being aware of all the tragedies that would soon occur . . . Did you want to be faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not you should stop them? How would your presence affect things in the future? After living your whole life in 2023, you could never adjust to life in 1946. 
You had to find a way back. There was simply no other choice. 
+++
William showed you many things. Just as he was interested in the future, you were interested in the past. The things that excited you most of all were old-school versions of what you had in the future. Washing machines, refrigerators — they were all so different, yet the same, and it was fascinating. 
You even met a few people in town. They were nice enough to hold a conversation with, though they found it weird that you lacked decorum and the social understanding of the time. The women were chatty and mildly passive-aggressive, and the men — well, the men flirted with you quite openly.
William had told people that you were family, someone related but not close enough to be bothered with technical terms like cousin or niece. No one asked questions when you two explained it like that. All the men must have thought that if you were his family and that if you had no ring on your finger you must be looking for a partner.
You were charmed by their advances, but never serious about them. Besides, William hardly let them get a word in before he shooed them away.
By the time weeks and weeks had passed you became acquainted with everyone, seen every sight to see — including the swan lake William took you to — and become close enough to William that he opened up to you. You learned that while he wasn’t an orphan, his parents never held much interest in him other than the occasional birthday letter, and the reason he came out here so far away from the city was to find peace of mind.
You grew to admire him, and you were sure he grew to admire you, too. And soon, you started to feel a certain type of way. A way that made you daydream about all the things that could be, only for reality to stomp across it and remind you of the harsh truth. 
+++
William was driving a car, a modern car, your car. He was humming a little tune on the radio, singing some lyrics, hands loosely holding the wheel as he passed by a gas station. It was some Taylor Swift song, and you remember faintly thinking: Of course, he likes Taylor Swift.
He looked over to you. You were sitting by his side, a passenger princess, looking out the window. All of a sudden it was night and you two were driving down a lonely road, parking by the side of some lake. In the distance, you could hear crickets and ribbits, but you paid them no mind.
You were curled up in William’s arms, looking out the sunroof of the car, the light of the moon gently descending through the glass. You offered him a piece of chocolate, and you two just sat there, in the dark, nibbling on snacks and observing the sky, until you woke up.  
+++
William had to leave for work, like usual. He again told you not to leave his property line or stray out too far, which, again, was fine by you because most days were cold and bitter.
You spent your time messing around with the box, careful not to touch the wires in the back. Once you put your mind to it, you figured out how it worked. You paid attention to where the hands were currently located and found something promising. The first dial’s hands had the numbers I, IX, IV, and VI, and the second dial was nulla, IX, nulla, and V. Alone, you wouldn’t have been able to tell what the numbers meant, but with context, you understood. The first dial was the year, and the second one was the month and date.
You didn’t quite understand how the box brought you from the future, but that didn’t matter, as it was broken. There was a little loose piece on the backside that had been damaged — a little dent, probably when you were first transported here. All you had to do was plug it back in, but the only problem was, you didn’t have a screwdriver, and you certainly weren’t going to wrench your fingers near a bunch of wires.
When William came back you told him your solution. He agreed and said that tomorrow he would take you to a local store to buy a screwdriver, and he even apologized for not having one in his house. But for now, he said he wanted to take you out to lunch.
“Lunch?” you questioned nervously. Was he asking you out on a date?
You thought about it for a moment. You did want to go, but your mind was too preoccupied with getting back to your time. Besides, it wasn’t fair to him. You did like him, but you two could never actually be together. It was all in your head.
It’s all in your head.
“You know I’ll have to go back someday,” you said, watching William’s expression become more neutral as if he was hiding his emotions. “I dunno . . . I’m getting a little attached to you,” you said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
William seemed to understand where you were going with this. “It won’t be like that. I wouldn’t blame you,” he said earnestly, taking a step forward. “We ought to enjoy our time together, while it’s still here.”
He made a valid point, enough to convince you. He had been doing that an awful lot. Convincing you. 
William took you out to a nice restaurant. The food was a bit plain, but it was good and wholesome. It reminded you a lot of William’s cooking, only fancier and more well-presented. Not only that, but the atmosphere felt calming and almost romantic. You noticed that most of the people here were couples, holding hands and giggling with each other, however young or old.
Was this William’s intention? Did he like like you? Or was this just him being courteous? You couldn’t imagine that many people here were used to dating or one-night stands. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked him, and you were too nervous to do that. Besides, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. William was a very traditional man, would he even want a woman like you? A 21st-century girl?
After you two were finished eating you engaged in another walk. 
“Come closer,” William said, holding out his arm for you to take. If you didn’t have any self-control, you would have jumped his bones right then and there. He was right. He was a gentleman. No man in the future would have done this for you unless they were trying to make a joke out of it.
You placed your hand on William’s arm hesitantly, trying to figure out the exact placement, walking side by side with him. It was a little cold, however, and you shivered, catching William’s attention almost instantly.
“Oh, you poor thing,” William cooed, talking of his coat and wrapping it around you. It smelled of him, a little musky, smoky like a cigarette, but in a very subtle way. “You’re so nervous. Have you never had a man do this for you?” he asked. “Hold out his arm for you to take, give you his coat?”
“No,” you admitted. “Men don’t do that in the future.”
“I do,” he said, stopping both of you in your tracks. The area was secluded, mostly covered in trees and bushes, far away from any passerby. “I would do that for my woman.”
It was quiet for a moment.
“Well,” you said, wistfully, “whoever she is she’ll be a lucky woman.”
+++
William took you to a local shop to buy a screwdriver next. It all felt very domestic, something that you could get used to. You imagined running errands like this with William in the future. He would be absolutely fascinated by a grocery store, by the internet, by everything. If you thought hard, you could see it — a wondrous smile on his face, a giggle escaping his lips. 
You tried not to think of it that much. After your fantasy passed your thoughts turned sad and cold, because you knew that would never happen. It will never happen. As much as you liked William, you missed your family, you missed your house, you missed everything.
When you both got back home, you plugged the broken piece in and screwed the nail. William watched on beside you, a frown on his face, drinking some tea.
“Here,” he said, inching closer, “I don’t want you exerting pressure on your arm. Let me do it.”
He grabbed a hold of the screwdriver, but he bumped into you in the process. With a gasp, he dropped his cup of tea. It shattered across the floor, glass pieces flying every, hot liquid (thankfully not boiling) splashing all over. You shrieked and backed away, watching as one of the glass shards cut right through one of the wires.
“William!” you snapped, but then your eyes turned watery, because of the cut on your hand.
He immediately went over to you, careful not to step on any glass, and picked you up bridal style, moving you away from the mess and towards the couch. 
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, looking panicked. “It was an honest mistake — I’m so so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that — are you hurt?”
You laughed at the absurdity of it all, even though you were clutching your finger in pain. It was a very small cut, something that would be healed within a day. “Calm down, William. I’m fine. Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, looking worried, or perhaps, scared was the right word. Yet, you couldn’t figure out why.
“William,” you said slowly. “It’s fine. You do realize we can just fix the wire? I just need a heat-shrinking tube and a soldering iron, nothing I haven’t done before.”
“. . . Oh.”
His tone made you wonder about his intentions. You’d been so caught up on how good of a person he was, helping you and giving you room and food, but really, what was his motive? Because it almost felt like he was trying to get you to stay . . . It sent a sinister feeling down your spine, albeit a tug on your heartstrings as well.
What do you want from me, William? What do you want?
+++
More time had passed. It was difficult to acquire things in this small town, and it occurred to you that such resources were not readily available at this time. You didn’t want to bother William by pestering him to go into the city for materials, so while you would bring up the topic every once in a while, you mostly kept quiet.
You took the chance to relish your break. After all, you weren’t working. It was like a fully paid vacation, so you might as well take advantage of it.
William still had a job, but when he came back, you two would just talk and talk and talk, conversations so smoothly flowing that it felt like you’d known him for years. When you weren’t talking, you were still in each other’s presence, doing your own thing. Occasionally, William would make sneaky moves like wrap his arm around your shoulder, or do the la bise. He claimed he was part French, and it was part of his custom, but even if that were true, you knew the la bise didn’t involve full-on smooches on the cheek.
You never stopped him from doing things like that, but you also never reciprocated, despite how badly you wanted to. All this stalling wouldn’t change the fact that you still had to leave. Not only that, but you were starting to feel homesick. 
You missed calling your friends late at night, you missed watching colored TV, and you missed hot showers. You missed easy-access painkillers for your periods, and searching all your queries on the internet. You missed the future. Badly. And you could just feel that the day of return was near.
+++
“You dance, yes?”
Snapped out of your thoughts, you turned to William. You were both lounging on his couch, relaxing, talking, as the time passed by. He had given you a magazine to read, but you weren’t reading it, just dozing off.
You shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve gone to clubs. But — no, I can’t dance like that — William,” you whined, half-heartedly struggling as he pulled you up to you feet. “I’m going to ruin it, I don’t know where to place my feet or — ”
“ — You could never ruin anything, darling. Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me.” 
You looked away. “You can’t say things like that, William.”
“Why not?”
You took his hands off you before he could even start the music. 
“I don’t like it,” you lied.
William frowned. “That’s alright. Let me hold you. I know you enjoy that.” He chuckled. “When we first met you wouldn’t let go of me.”
The memory, still fresh in your mind, made you flustered. 
“. . . William, what do you want from me?” you decided to ask.
He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean — what do you want from me?”
William licked his lower lip. “Nothing. I just want to take care of you.”
“But why?”
You could practically feel William’s nervousness. It was like when he dropped that glass. He radiated an almost jumbled energy, a desperate energy.
“Haven’t I made it more obvious?” he finally said, his hands on your waist. He brought his fingers up to brush the hair out of your face. “Am I not clear?”
You knew what he was going to say. But you wanted to hear it from him. “Clear about what?”
“I want you.” Your heart started beating. “I don’t care if you’re not from this time. I don’t care if you have a life in the future — I can be better. I can be your life.”
“. . . William.”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” he said, tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “I know you want me too. I can see it.”
“But we can’t,” you weakly protested.
“So is this what you do?” His tone grew more sharp. “Imagine things in your head and never act on them?”
You stayed silent. He was putting you in such a difficult position, couldn’t he see that?
“What’s wrong?” he continued. “Am I not good enough?”
“William,” you tried to pull away. “I have to go — ”
He locked you in his arms. Your body was so close your noses were brushing up against each other, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe you’re worried I can’t please you right.”
You could have shouted. Why was he being so forceful? You ignored the way your body grew warm — you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t and so you wouldn’t. 
“I don’t want it,” you lied again.
“Well, I told you, a wife should always submit to her husband’s desires.”
“We’re not married!”
“We will be.”
You froze.
William took your silence as an opportunity. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, turning his head slightly as his hand rested on the back of your head. You were caught off guard but didn’t try to push away. It felt so nice, and warm and inviting. Why you were denying yourself this? Why were you denying yourself love?
When your lips parted, a string of saliva connecting you both, you placed your hands on his chest. You had an idea. A brilliant idea. Why hadn’t you thought of this before? “William. I still have to go, but — ”
He growled and lifted you up, carrying you over to his bedroom, tossing you onto the bed, and pinning you down on the mattress. “No. I won’t let you. I won’t let you! Don’t you understand? I’m perfect for you — I can — I can.” He looked miserable. In fact, he looked like he was about to cry. “Let me show you,” he said, determined. He started unbuckling his belt with one hand. “Let me show you what I can do.”
You hadn’t realized how hard William was, but when he finally took out his cock — fat and pale, with pre-cum leaking at the tip, his balls a little hairy, you gulped, the area between your legs getting wetter.
“Take off your panties,” he ordered. “And lift up that damn dress.”
You didn’t. To be honest, you were a little frightened by his behavior.
William sighed and did it for you, spreading your legs apart, only for you to shut them close. “You don’t even have a condom!”
“I’ll put out,” he said impatiently, forcing your legs apart again. You gasped, not expecting contact to be made so soon.
He rubbed his cock against your wet cunt, soaking himself. He had this satisfied smile on his face, eyes closed for just a moment, before he looked down at you. 
“I thought I’d have to warm you up a little,” he said. “You’re beau — stop it! Don’t struggle.”
He held your arms down as you writhed. “Please, William — I believe you,” you said. “You can fuck me good. Just listen — ”
William shook his head. “You’re the one who's supposed to listen. Listen and take it.”
With that, he pushed his cock in and started thrusting, hard and fast, your hands still pinned, his face contorted in pleasure. His moans were loud and shameless. He had his head right above yours, peppering small kisses on your lips. You tried to ignore how good it felt — him inside of you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult by the moment. 
“Ah, I knew you weren’t a virgin,” he said, noticing the lack of blood or discomfort. “That’s okay — I still love you.”
“Love?” you repeated, trying to focus, but your abilities were lost when he used his thumb to rub your clit. “Wa-a-it!”
“Don’t say that,” William said, his tone surprisingly soft given how rough his movements were. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it. Just enjoy. Enjoy me.”
The bed was starting to creak, moving back and forth, rubbing up against the wood floor. Your breasts were bouncing, catching William’s eyes every once in a while. His cock slid in and out of you with precision, hitting that swollen part inside of you every time. His thumb on your clit only added to the intense sensation. 
Your eyes fluttered shut, and you stopped struggling. You let your head hit the pillow, mouth parted, breathing heavy and hot. At the same time, you were overcome with a feeling of hurt. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, but for him to take you so forcibly . . . and for you to actually like it . . .
“Are you alright?” he asked, slowing down his pace a little. He looked you in the eyes. “Do you feel good?”
You thought about lying, about crying out No, please stop!, but that wasn’t the truth, and in the end, your desires overcame you. “Y-yes. I want more.”
William relaxed, and his grip on you loosened. He placed one hand on your hip, the other by the side of your head. 
“You’re beautiful,” he praised. “Every day I look at you and think of how grateful I am that I found you. Laying there in that field, little flowers around you. An angel. My angel.”
You wanted to tell him how grateful you were, too. That it was him who took you in and not someone else, but the words never came out, only sighs and moans, but he seemed to understand what you were trying to say. 
Another kiss.
“You’re soaking me. You’re soaking the sheets.”
A little embarrassed, you turned your head. “M’sorry.”
William forced you to look back at him. “Don’t be sorry. I like knowing how eager you are for me.” 
Another kiss, but this time he slipped his tongue in, sweeping against yours before he pulled away, a string of saliva breaking as he did.
“We’ll live here,” he continued, his thrusts becoming more erratic, “in this house. Together. I’ll take you to the movies, we’ll have picnics in the garden, and I’ll write you love songs on the piano. We’ll have children — a girl, I hope — and she’ll look just like you. It’ll be wonderful,” he promised. “I’ll make you so happy, and you’ll make me happy, too.”
You couldn’t help but ruin the moment. “If I did that I would never see my parents again.”
He frowned and didn’t say anything. Then, “I think you’re getting agitated. You need to come, that’s it. You need to come and then you’ll finally understand what it is you’ll be missing out on if you leave.”
“T-that’s not the point — ”
“ — I’m so close,” he murmured. “Fill you up, so damn tight. Ah, you’re perfect.”
When you realized what he meant your eyes widened and you shook your head adamantly. “You said you’d pull out!”
“That was before. I’ve changed my mind.”
You felt familiar pressure build up inside of you. You could imagine yourself, breasts big with milk, belly round and smooth, William reading children’s books to your unborn baby as if he could be heard. The thought alone made you sickly sweet, the idea that life between you and him could be so domestic.
But couldn’t he just wait for a moment?
“I’ll — ah — be with you — every step of the way,” he grunted. “I won’t leave you. So, don’t be scared.”
“William,” you said shakily. “Just listen — ”
But it was too late. Collapsing on top of you, William poured his hot seed inside your cunt, his whimper addicting, like it was something you could hear a thousand times over. A few seconds later, you fell victim to the same fate, and there you two lay, with each other, chests heaving, bodies sweaty and sticky, coming down from the heights of ecstasy. 
You could feel his heart pound against yours. Thump, thump, thump. And you could feel yours as well. To think that this man had just gotten you pregnant. It all happened so quickly. It happened so quickly and you were completely fine with it.
“William,” you said after finally catching your breath, turning to face him. “You know I still have to go.”
It was his turn to cry. His tears watered up, glassy, his lower lip trembling, but you could tell he was doing his best to keep it in. “But I love you,” he whispered. “Am I not enough?”
It broke your heart to see him like this. So vulnerable in front of you. It was then you knew you were making the right choice, a hundred percent. You had finally found your match. And to think that you almost let him go . . . 
“But I want you to come with me,” you said, hopeful. “Come with me, William. Come with me to the future.”
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Taglist: @henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @madnessandobsession @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7 @madeinuk
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catilinas · 5 months
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Hello! I apologize if im bothering, and wish you all the best in upcoming year! I wanted to ask, do you perhaps have some suggestions for modern plays ( written in last 20 or so years) inspired by greek tragedies (either serving as motifs or beibg retellings), particularly Oresteia? I am asking because I see lots and lits of literary retellings, but with few exceptions, rarely dramas. Thank you anyway, sorry for bothering, and have great holidays!
hi!!! i can think of a few but but because i'm more of a roman epic person the list is mostly plays i've actually seen. i think literary retellings are probably easier to find people talking about online because like. they aren't performed and so there's not the access barrier of needing to Go And See The Performance. and then also there are plays where you then can't get hold of the script! i'm also assuming you're interested in plays that aren't just translations / close adaptations of tragedies, because those are a lot easier to find and also like. more common?
here are some plays that i have either read or seen that fit your criteria and also fuck immensely:
the burial at thebes: a version of sophocles' antigone - seamus heaney
antigone the musical - marina mccready (does cool things w genre; version of antigone that has made me feel the most genuine sympathy for creon)
the cure at troy: a version of sophocles' philoctetes - seamus heaney (this isn't quite within the last 20 years but you may be interested anyway!)
phaedra's love - sarah kane (also a bit older but it's sooo good. although it is maybe more senecan tragedy than greek tragedy?)
phaedra - simon stone (based on euripides' hippolytus but also the plays by seneca and racine. but also it isn't any of them. but also it IS)
oresteia - robert icke (maybe my favourite play of all time ever) (robert icke has also done a version of oedipus but it was in dutch and i don't think it's possible to get the script?)
girl on an altar - marina carr (inspired by the oresteia but. not. also very cool in that it incorporates a Lot of iphigenia at aulis and yet iphigenia never appears. and then the whole play is about her)
also! if you aren't aware of the archive of performances of greek and roman drama productions database you might also want to rummage around in there! like i am Aware of things like a recent musical version of medea / iphigenia in splott but they are almost certainly in that extremely filterable database :D
also also clutuals pspspspsps if you have any particularly cool additions to this list. hi. hello.
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foone · 6 months
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You know that post about a college sending out a sexuality survey that accidentally left off heterosexuals?
That just happened at my job with Christmas.
They sent out a list of holidays/observances this month, mentioning that:
It's HIV/AIDS awareness month
National Drunk and Drugged Driving prevention month
Hanukkah starts tomorrow
Kwanzaa week starts on December 26th
and... yep! that's all of them. There's no other holidays this month. I can't think of any.
OH WAIT!
the roman mystery cult of Mithraism had their savor born on December 25th. I don't think there are any surviving believers of Mithraism, but... you never know. might as well be more inclusive.
EDIT: WHOOPS I got the date of Hanukkah wrong. Fixed
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caramelcleopatraa · 2 months
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CAUGHT IN 4K
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word count: 3.3k
x: finals are coming up, so i'm gonna be very busy, but i'm still writing y'all (this is the most consistent i've been lol) (excuse any errors of course) Hope you guys enjoyyy! leave comments... please. I love your comments.
content: Imani has a crush on Roman. Their friend group goes on live and her secret comes to the light. She thought that she was going to be rejected and move on, but things never go the way people expect. Roman Reigns x Imani, 18+ MDNI, oral (m recieving), cowg!rl, creamp!e
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Imani loved weekend kickbacks. Time to chillax with her favorite people, and get her mind off of things. It was moments like these she waited for. Drinks and joints in rotation, and endless fun for hours to come. Jimmy, Jey, Roman, Trinity Talia, and Imani. She wishes that she was only thinking about the good vibes that circulated in the atmosphere, but she was focused on something else. It wasn’t like she was necessarily trying to focus on Roman, but it was inevitable when she could see him so clearly from the kitchen. She knew that having a crush on him could possibly mess up the bond that the group has, but he was so gravitating, He was perfect in her eyes. She basically textbook described him when Trinity and Talia asked her to describe her dream man: Tall, muscular, sweet, absurdly attractive, charismatic, humorous, dedicated. God, she could go on to name every single one of his attributes that she loved. She tried to brush it off as a mistake at first, but there was no part about this that was a mistake. He had a tight grip on her, and he wasn't even aware. She wonders what would happen if he felt the same way. If those pretty brown eyes she daydreamed about would reciprocate the love she was anxiously waiting to give him. She could only imagine all of the things she could do for him, to him, and provide him. If she had him all to herself, how they would spend their nights alone. How it would feel to be wrapped in his embrace. How it would feel to get lost in him between the sheets for hours, and repeat it again the next day. If she had him all to herself.
“WE GETTIN TURNT!” Talia raised her glass in the air and yelled out to her viewers, watching her through the small rectangular frame. Jimmy came around the corner with uno cards in his hands as the six of us gathered around the table. Roman, Trinity, or Jey would pop into the frame to answer a couple of questions while Jimmy shuffles the cards and Imani gathers multiple bottles to bring to the table. “Mani! They have some questions for you!” Imani joins her party, sitting the bottles on the table and scanning through the comments.
‘Do you get to go backstage with the bloodline?’
“Yes! It's amazing, I'm not gonna lie.”
‘Please do a makeup tutorial!’
“Maybe, I don't have a youtube channel.”
‘Seen any guys that have caught your eye?’
“A couple, but they ain’t nothin’ important.”
“Oh word?” Talia and Trinity both look at her with curious faces, but Imani just giggles and goes back to answering questions. 
“Ooh this is a good one. Kiss, marry, fuck: Jason Momoa, Michael B. Jordan, and Roman Reigns,” Talia reads out loud. That question got everyone’s attention. Jimmy stopped fidgeting with the cards and Roman and Jey both put their phones down impatient for her answer. “Well?” Talia was definitely setting her up, and she could feel it. Thank god for her brown skin that covered her fastly spreading blush. “Do I have to answer this?” “Yes, you do. I'm intrigued now,” Trinity says, as Imani quickly takes a double take at the entire table to see them all staring at her. She sighs before surrendering and thinking hard about the question.
“I’ll… kiss… Michael B. Jordan, fuck Jason Momoa, and marry Roman Reigns.” She instantly regretted answering the question before Trinity pried at Imani to get out more information that everyone was itching to know. “Hmm, why marry Roman?” She quickly swiped her drink off of the table and took a long sip, hiding her face. In all honesty, she wanted to say that it was the easiest choice, but that would only make her sound suspicious. And that was not a conversation that she wanted to have in front of quite literally everyone. “I'm not interested in the other guys like that.” “So you’re interested in Roman?” ‘Wait- wait! Noo that's not what I meant!’
“No, I just wouldn't marry the other two men. It’s not that deep Trin,” Imani says, a failed attempt at dismissing the conversation. “You’ve never gotten this defensive before… don’t tell me that you in your feelings.” She could see Talia smirking at the corner of her eyes. She knew she had to stop this fast. “You’re reaching Talia,” Imani says, laughing to herself. “Oooooh Imani wants the Tribal Chief, huh?” Never in her life had she ever been more embarrassed. “Jimmy, for the love of god, please start dealing the cards,” Imani says, covering her face, her words muffled by her hands. Everyone laughs, finding amusement in her nervousness. She anxiously waited for Jimmy to start dealing the cards so this moment could pass.
11:27 pm
Several rounds of uno and spades passed, and the guests were slowly starting to make their way out. She noticed Talia, Trinity, Jey, and Jimmy momentarily texting throughout the night, which would probably explain why the four of them were explaining the consequence of Imani losing a couple of rounds. “Sooooo we thought of something. Don’t be mad! It’s just a punishment for losing so much,” Talia says, sticking out her tongue. “Your punishment is that you have to ask Roman to fuck you.” ‘ASK ROMAN TO WHATT!?!?’
Her surprised face told them everything they needed to know. “You'll be fine. Uce will probably be down to fuck either way,” Jey says. Imani gave Talia a death glare, making Talia laugh. “You’re trippin’ girl. Just approach him with the right energy and make him want to stay with you. I guess this answers the question of if you have a crush on him or not.” Before she could defend herself, Roman walks in from the restroom and the four of them are gone in the blink of an eye. ‘These trifling’ heifers’
“Guess they all left. I should be on my way out then. Thank you for the food and dr-” She steps in front of him, stopping him from exiting out the front door. He looks at her with confusion. “You okay?” Her heart was beating fast. She didn't fully think out what she was going to do after she stepped in front of him, but it was now or never. 
“Fuck me.”
“...what?”
“F-fuck me.” She couldn't look him in the eye the second time. The pressure weighing on her shoulders was too much. But the thing that was racking her brain the most was how close they were. She felt like this was a disaster taking place in real time. She hears a soft chuckle, looking up to see him lightly smiling at her. “Was this your punishment for losing?” She nods, and his smile stays fixed on his face. “Do you want me to?” 
‘...did he say what I think he just said?’
Her mind is searching for an answer, a reason to say no. But she can't find any. As embarrassing and confusing this was, she had daydreamed about this moment. Maybe he was just being nice and would give her a quick fuck to fulfill the punishment. That idea became her leading thought. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomf-” “Do you want me to fuck you Imani?”
‘Shit he’s not joking.’
She slowly nods, which prompts him to lock the front door behind you. Her head was spinning, trying her hardest to maintain her composure. “Ask me again.”
“Fuck me, please,” She says nervously, eyes returning her shiny tile floors. “I don’t believe you sweetheart. Ask me again.” His hand gently grabs at her chin, making Imani look at him. Once they made eye contact, she knew that she was done for. She was already feeling weak from just looking at him. She took a deep breath before finally saying, “Please fuck me Roman.”
He wasted no time pulling her into a heated kiss. Not that she minded. This felt like a wonderful dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Only this wasn't a dream, it was real life. She finally got to feel the body that she had been drooling over. Right now, he was hers, and she was going to make the most of it. 
Her curious hands creeped along his captivating body while they explored each other’s mouths, dragging her hands up his torso from underneath his shirt. He pulled away from her soft lips to trail wet kisses from her cheek to her neck. “Not shy anymore huh?” She couldn't be shy. Her desire for him had completely taken over. “I really need you right now Roman,” She pants out. 
“Bedroom?” She nods and takes his hand in hers, leading the way to her bedroom. The sway of her hips only made Roman more aroused, as he silently admired her body from behind.
They enter her bedroom and she doesn't get a chance to close the door before being pulled into his arms again, temporarily hoisting her in the air to lay her on the spacious bed. He pulls her into another messy kiss, setting his focus on getting rid of their bothersome clothes. He quickly tore his shirt from his body and she did the same with hers. Their lips connected again, moving in harmony. He started to make his way down her body, but she squeezed his shoulders, signaling him to stop. “I wanna make you feel good first.” Roman was surprised to say the least. He kissed her tummy and replied, “Are you sure?” She gives him a confident nod, with those big doe eyes and her beautiful smile. “Alright, what do you want me to do?” “Let’s switch places.”
She scooted to the side, giving him room to lay down on the bed. She crawled down to his waist, tugging both his sweatpants and boxers down. His dick springs out of his pants, finally free from cloth restraints. Her eyes locked with his before lowering down to lick the underside of him; from his balls to his mushroom tip. A wad of spit drips from her mouth and lands on his length, using her hand to lather him up. His soft hums let her know that he was feeling good, and she was determined to make him feel a whole lot better. 
Her juicy lips start at his tip, giving small kitten licks before taking the tip in her mouth. Her warm mouth felt so good on his dick. He didn't know that Imani was this nasty. She gives him kisses up and down his shaft before taking him in her mouth again. 
She didn’t waste any time trying to tease him. He was big, and filled mer mouth well, but it’s nothing she's never handled before. Before she continued, the warmth of her mouth left him once again. “Can you record this?” Just when he thought she couldn't get more nasty. 
“Record?” She nodded her head. “Only if you’re comfortable.” “I’m more than comfortable,” Roman says, while reaching into his sweatpants pocket. He grabs his phone and opens the camera app, pressing record. “It’s recording, baby.” 
She smiles at the camera, curling her fingers around the base of his dick and tapping him against her tongue. She takes him in her mouth again for the final time, keeping her hand put at the base. She bobs her head slowly, swiveling her head from left to right. 
She keeps moving slowly, making sure to fit all she can in her mouth. Her hand that stayed curled around his base, moved in juxtaposition, stroking the rest of him that her mouth couldn't get to. “Goddamn baby, that mouth feels so good. I need that mouth around my dick all the time.” She moans in response, giving him vibrations that made him feel oh so good. She had him moaning and groaning. She didn't mind that at all. She got a big ego boost that he was so vocal from her mouth working its magic. She took note of every moan, every twitch, and any reaction he made. Right now, she was focused on his pleasure. 
His grip on his phone tightened, trying his best to keep his composure. She moved her head faster, still bobbing up and down, and using her hand to stroke his remaining inches. “Ahh s-shit mama, you keep sucking my dick like that and imma cum in your mouth.” She looks at him, already staring at her every move while she’s giving him euphoria like pleasure. She moans around his dick again, feeling her panties dampen. Her other hand massaged his balls lightly. Her slurping sounds made him close to coming. 
He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Those innocent eyes staring into him as he recorded her doing such lewd things. He tried his best not to tangle his hands in her hair and fuck her mouth full of him. But her mouth felt so good, and he wanted nothing more than to cum in her mouth. He couldn’t help himself when his hands disappeared into her hair, planting his feet on the bed and fucking up into her mouth. She put her hands behind her back, letting him use her as he pleased. His thrusts were quick, but soft, his balls slapping against her chin. “Oh fuck! I’m coming mama, ooh I'm comin’.” He kept her head steady while coming deep in her throat, and she accepted with jubilation. 
She bobbed her head a few more times, trying her best to overstimulate him the most she can, until his hand grabs her chin, lifting her up. “Slow down princess,” He says, ending the recording. She crawls up to meet him, giving him a quick passionate kiss. “See how good you taste?” Roman chuckles at her boldness. “Your turn. Lie down,” He says, trying to sit up, but fails due to her pushing him back down on the bed. “I need that dick right now daddy.”
“You don’t want me to eat that pussy?” She runs her hand through her messy hair. “God yes I do, but I need you to fuck me right now.” Her eyes did more pleading than her words. 
“I wanna record this too,” she says, looking down at his chest, tracing the intricate tattoo. He feels around the bed, finally grabbing the phone and reopening the camera app. “Can you prop it up somewhere? I want you to be able to touch me.” “Already on it baby.” He climbed back further on your bed, propping the phone up against the lamp on the nightstand. While he did that, she slid off her shorts and panties, throwing them behind her. He pressed record again, and instructed her to adjust herself so the camera could capture everything. 
His hands landed on her ass as they both observed themself. His hands felt so good kneading her ass, and she saw his eyes drinking in every part of her body. He couldn't keep his hands off of her curvaceous body, and he didn't want to. “You like it?” Her soft hands massaged his shoulders, making him groan softly. “I love it baby, love this ass.” An unexpected slap to her ass made her jump. “You sound so good, daddy.” His hands move her hips along his dick, grinding her body against his. 
“How long have you been thinking about this?” She shies away from his gaze, a sudden flash of embarrassment runs through her body. She had forgotten about all of her feelings of distress and nervousness and realized that she was running on arousal and adrenaline. “A-a couple of months.” He lifts her hips and grabs his length, rubbing the tip along her slit. A few rubs up and down her slickness before impaling her on his dick. They moan simultaneously, relishing in the mind numbing pleasure. “You been thinking about taking this dick baby?” She gives him small head nods, still captured by the feeling of him inside of her. His hands cupped her chin, turning her head to the direction of the phone, steadily recording them. His hands were full of her ass, moving her up and down his shaft slowly. His unsteady breaths and her elongated moans were harmonious. “Go ‘head then. Bounce that ass on my dick.”
Her eyes focused on him as she steadied herself, her hands placed on either side of his head. She throws her ass back, his thighs catching it every time. His eyes were still glued to the phone, watching her beautiful body on top of him. But it wouldn’t be long until he faced her again, her soft titties hanging in front of his face. She had daydreamed about fucking Roman, and she was finally doing it. It gave her confidence knowing that he couldn't keep his hands off of her body. Her facial expression told her exactly how she was feeling. It was almost overwhelming how sexy she was. Beautiful smile, sexy body, paired with addicting moans that made him want to fuck her all night long. 
“Mmm~ look at you taking daddy’s dick. You’re doing so good,” Roman pants, grabbing at her breasts. His gentle praises and gruff voice was enough to make her cum. His dominating presence, his words, his touch. This man had her mind running laps. Even though he wasn’t putting in any effort, he was hitting all the right spots.
Her words were slurred, eyes rolled back, mouth wide open spewing salacious moans. Her hips slowed down, the constant rhythm created by her ass and his thighs meeting no longer lasted while she hid in the crook of his neck. Her body was decorated with a sheet of sweat that didn’t take away from her golden hue. “Look at me.” She rested on her elbows, locking her eyes onto his. Their faces were laced with lust, an unsatisfied want for each other. 
His strong arms caged her in, preventing her from squirming or escaping. She was still catching her breath while Roman planted his feet on the bed again. He places a tender kiss on her cheek before fucking up into her. She grabbed on to any part of his body that could, her eyes fluttering shut. A harsh slap to her ass makes her scream in pleasure. “I said look at me,” Roman says, demanding her full attention.
“Ohhh- my god! You feel so fucking g-good!” Roman loved watching her unravel. How she screamed for glory while he fucked her. God, he could make this his favorite hobby. Making her cum over and over again. “Mhm- fuckk- keep talking to me baby.” Her mind was foggy. She could only focus on one thing right now, how good he was dicking her down. Roman was making her feel so good. She looked at his phone propped up on the nightstand again to see their reflection. Her ass rippled from his hard strokes. That sight alone had her ready to cum. “Shhit! I’m finna cum on that big ass dick!” “Yeah? You finna cum?”
Her nails dug into his broad shoulders, feeling a knot build up in her stomach. “Cum with me Imani, let me feel you cum around my dick.”
Her eyes shut as she came, her orgasm hitting like a dam breaking, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. His hips slowed down, but still gave her deep strokes, coming deep inside her. High pitched moans and deep grunts filled the room. His hands lazily grab her hips, allowing her to move again. She reached to grab the phone and ended the video, dropping the phone somewhere as she laid limp against his chest. His thumbs worked small circles as they both caught their breath. “I’m gonna take a shower when I get up, wanna join me?” Imani hears him chuckle, still working small circles into her hips. “Nah, we’re not done. I gotta eat that pussy, Imani.”
If these were the punishments she got for losing in spades, maybe losing wasn't so bad after all.
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🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2
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centrally-unplanned · 4 months
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For a bit of a left-field materialist moment, people have been mentioning recently (due to an ACX post) the fact that people in the ancient world did not have PTSD from war. I think this result is quite robust; war was a nigh-universal part of life for many people, writings about war and its aftermath were the most popular topic of writing around, and we have robust documentary evidence about every other negative impact of war that people did experience. Certainly someone in the ancient world had some equivalent, but if it was at all as common as it is now it would have been discussed, and probably even named and addressed as part of martial culture. Instead its a complete ghost.
I do feel like reaching towards "martial culture" as the explanation is a bit weird though? It plays a role, for sure, I do agree that a society that raises someone to know that killing and fighting is Good, Actually, is going to be better mental prep for said activities. But a lot of societies today, and way more within "modern war" memory, had martial cultures! Virtually all societies fighting in WW1, where PTSD was first widely observed, had very similar values to the Romans; fighting is noble & good, and it is right to kill for your country. Those values just broke down in the conflict itself. And I think this too is giving the past too much monoculture; wars like the Second Punic War or the Thirty Years War had intense levels of population mobilization, which meant they were tapping manpower from every sector of society, and a lot of those individuals or communities had their own values that were less martial (think Jewish communities in Europe, for an example). And those wars don't show much new evidence. That evidence could be lost, its the kind of evidence that would be lost ofc, but it still points in that direction.
And its weird to point to culture when technology seems like the way bigger cause? Its why we called it shell-shocked after all! War in the older days was very concrete and typically concentrated. You marched at more-or-less peace for months, saw an enemy, arrayed for battle, and fought right up against a guy in front of you. If you won it was on your own strength against dudes in eyesight swinging metal; if you lost you ran away or were dead and so don't get PTSD. I can see how this isn't a recipe for flashback triggers, it wasn't that different an environment from your day to day 99.9% of the time. Meanwhile modern war is massively loud explosions, people randomly dying next to you, and in contexts like trench warfare or counterinsurgency its constant levels of awareness for the idea of metal cracking your skull in every direction. And we do get reports of PTSD-style symptoms from earlier WW1-style conflicts like the Russo-Japanese War. I think war-based PTSD is in some part a literal noise issue, and modern war is much louder.
Both probably play a role, but I think technology is the main one. War is now a factory for breaking one's sense of place in the world, almost by design (that works better for killing the enemy), so it really isn't even that surprising.
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eastgaysian · 1 year
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okay here's one post i have to make. Finally racism confirmed real in succession. other people have talked about this before but it is a huge blind spot of the show not to acknowledge the intersection between racism and capitalism, and the excuse that the characters are the 1% and the 1% are vastly white is pretty weak. the fact that the show sidelines its existing characters of color while every now and then broadly gesturing towards race makes this worse, especially as the show more directly focuses on fascism and just Doesn't bring race into it. like i don't even think race is totally absent as a concern of the writers but it's clearly not a priority. i think a lot about how mo's widow is a filipino woman
anyway. ken and rava's conversation in this sense doesn't really qualify as, like, revolutionary in terms of succession's commentary on race esp since it's a discussion between two white parents about their brown daughter without her present. the point of interest to me really is that kendall completely fails to recognize racism as a systemic issue, much less that he works for and is trying to sustain a company that actively works to perpetuate that hegemony. his questions are why was sophie on the street? why wasn't rava there? in the same episode where he calls matsson homophobic for saying the numbers are gay. socially aware king
it's not particularly revelatory to say that a rich white man doesn't grasp the concept of systemic racism LOL but i do think it's more than that for kendall, and i also think this trait is something his siblings don't share. it's like how he doesn't realize he's in a position of power over anna and she was pressured into attending the recny with him, and his adoption of a faux-feminist stance in s3 while continuing to treat women like shit. kendall's whole concept of Everything, including systemic social issues, goes back to logan. there's no system outside of dad. the doj doesn't find the cruises evidence compelling? that's because they're scared of logan. logan's the source of the evil in the world, therefore opposing him is inherently progressive, leaving kendall with even less of a coherent moral framework after his death. and he's completely unable to process the idea that he could be participating in and benefiting from the greater racist or sexist system, because that's fundamentally incompatible with his logan-based idea of his own identity.
i don't think roman or shiv or even connor share this particular nearsightedness. roman 'we do hate speech and roller coasters' roy knows what's going on but he doesn't really care and he doesn't believe it can be changed (or, maybe more accurately, that there's any point in trying). he doesn't buy into fascism on the ideological level, exactly, but the spectacle appeals to him and he does believe it's profitable to align with it, so he's perfectly happy to do so. i think he's the most similar to logan in this regard. and shiv and connor have actual political ideologies, even if they're far from being meaningfully opposed to fascism, which requires a base awareness of the fact that We Live In A Society and That Society Has Systems In It. for kendall it really boils down to logan and logan alone
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gamora-borealis · 29 days
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my roman empire is dan's internet cult leader branding. I don't think we talk about this enough. he's always been self aware about his strange amount of influence among his audience of fellow phreaks, and it's carried through the renaissance??? like they mention the internet cult leader thing in his bio on his management's website and he literally just called us all his sheep while speaking at a church about his self-help book. obviously we aren't a literal cult but. idk it's hilarious to think about from an outsider's perspective.
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hannieehaee · 2 months
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SERENDIPITY (teaser)
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18+ / mdi
summary: jungkook, god of love and son of venus is given the task by his mother herself to rid the world of you, known as psyche, as your beauty begins to rival her own. unfortunately for all parties involved, jungkook becomes enamored by you upon accidentally pinching himself with his own arrow.
content: cupid!jungkook, psyche!reader, an extremely simplified and smutty version of the og story, afab reader, side character deaths, mentions of attempted suicide, the dialogue is not super fitting of the times, angst(?), fluff, smut, they have sex where she doesnt know who he is multiple times but its consensual, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), etc.
(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)
wc: 841 (teaser); 8.6k (full fic)
release date: may 3rd
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a/n: i decided to do my first jungkook full fic in celebration for hitting 4k followers!! i hope u guys enjoy<3
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"Why did you call for me, again?"
"Jungkook, pay attention!", hissed his mother, holding her fingers to her temples in stress as one of her many servants walked in with the fruit she'd requested, "I need you to use your arrows on someone."
"What? Why? I thought you didn't like me meddling with people's love lives."
"This is different. This one needs a little help," Venus frowned in sheer annoyance, "She is known as Psyche by many, Y/N by her loved ones. She has become quite a figure among the Roman population. Some have begun to worship her beauty. They pray to her, they bring her offerings, they kiss at her feet, completely disregarding the true Goddess of Beauty."
"And where does this concern me?", Jungkook was beyond bored by his mother's ramblings. On a usual day, he would be out and entertaining himself with the many mortal maidens found around Rome, always guaranteeing himself a partner for the day.
Venus shot Cupid a look as her servants fed her by mouth, making him straighten his back and begin paying better attention. Even as the Goddess of Beauty, Venus was known as one of the most menacing Goddesses to exist, holding far too much power among all Gods and Goddesses. Jungkook couldn't help but feel intimidated by her, even as carefree as he was known to be.
"She has far too many admirers. Even Gods are beginning to show interest in her, yet she is lacking in suitors thus far. I need you to shoot your arrow and tie her off to the most hideous creature you can muster. She may seize from being a disturbance this way."
"Okay, so you want me to doom her to an eternity with a monster?", Jungkook tilted his head in curiosity.
Despite being considered the most beautiful entity, Jungkook knew Venus to be one of the least amicable creatures in all of the land. Mortals were blissfully unaware of her cruelty, thinking her to be the most perfect among all Goddesses. However, Cupid, as her son, knew of the misery that awaited anyone who crossed the Goddess of Beauty.
Venus halted her movements in frustration, scaring the servants nearby before turning to Jungkook in annoyance, "Cupid, my son, you will obey my order without question. I gave you those wings, I gave you that bow., and I gave you that arrow. I don't care how cruel you may think me to be, this is an order. You shall not utilize your powers for your own endeavors until you finish your task," she demanded, "Now, go rid me of that wench before I find someone else to do the job."
With a sigh, Jungkook nodded in defeat, fully aware of the type of punishments his mother could deliver should he disobey her orders. Walking over to the window through which he had originally entered, he pulled his bow and arrow from his back, beginning to fly off with his wings as he embarked on a journey to seek out the mighty Psyche that had his mother so worried.
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"Y/N, there's another letter from one of your admirers," announced Psyche's mother, placing the letter on the huge pile of gifts provided by the many civilians who came visit their castle with the hope of getting a glimpse of the beautiful girl.
"Mother, what shall I do with all these? There's so many letters yet not a single suitor," you sighed, frustrated at the lack of prospects you'd had so far, "My sisters have both married, yet I am left alone with no one to seek my heart."
"Child, you should be grateful," said your mother, "You are admired through all the land, vied for as if you were a true Goddess. Someone will come for you one day, rest assured," affirmed your mother, petting your hair as she landed a soft kiss on your forehead and took her leave once more.
It was easy for your parents to grow used to the love and admiration you received. Endless people would come and dedicate themselves to their servitude if it meant as much as receiving your blessing – which was absolutely worthless as a mere princess in a land filled with mystical deities.
Your elder sisters had both been married off months back, finding old yet respectable husbands to take them away and care for them as any and all husbands should. You, however, remained alone with your parents, always hoping that a man would be brave enough to court you.
It was unfortunate, really; the way in which your beauty prevented you from receiving any suitors. You had not chosen to be blessed by Venus herself, nor did you ever hope to become her contender in the title of the most beautiful entity in all of creation. Unlike you, she had found a God to sweep her off her feet, gifting her with the fruit of love himself – her son Cupid. Oh, how you wished he'd shoot his arrow and allow you some rest from this endless search for a husband.
...
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alwynwitch · 10 days
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Raglan James, Marius de Romanus and Daniel Molloy's memory loss
Okay, this sounds insane and I could be very wrong... but I still think it is possible that Justin Kirk plays Marius. Hear me out.
Obviously, Raglan James is a real character and I think AMC is going to use him (for later iwtv seasons and maybe for their talamasca show as well). But in season 1 Rashid was also really Armand... and Rashid is now a real character with a role in the story as well. The same could be true for Raglan James.
So, why would Marius be impersonating Raglan James?
Mainly, because he feels protective and responsible for Daniel. I think Marius played a role in Daniel's memory loss and recovery as a person after the first interview (and possible chase/love affair with Armand). Armand and Louis left him broken and confused and needed someone to help and take care of him. Enter Marius.
Biggest clue:
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Roman Weiss Publishing House? Like, come on. No publishing house is called like that, unless it is connected to Marius de Romanus. Also, this is Daniel's memoir, his other books are published at a different (normal) publishing house. But the memoir that is connected to his memory loss is published by Roman Weiss.... hmmmm....
Don't forget: in the books it was Marius who helped Daniel recover after he lost his mind. Daniel stayed with Marius for years. Marius loved Daniel and loved taking care of him.
(And yes I think AMC!Armand can know at this point that Marius is alive, because I think Lestat will tell him out of spite before Armand throws him off the tower. And Marius's painting is in the Dubai Penthouse.)
I think the Talamasca really has a stake in the interview and sent an agent, Raglan James (who I suspect still works for them at this point). But Marius interfered and kidnapped Raglan James and threw him in his basement.
He wants to help Daniel with his memories. He could be annoyed at Armand and Louis that they are toying with Daniel now, after all he did to take care of Daniel. And he is invested in the bigger picture of the vampire world. He is still taking care of Those Who Must Be Kept and will be aware of the great conversion, because it impacts them (and Amel). He might not like the idea that the Talamasca knows too much about this. And he might know Raglan James is a bad person and he doesn't want him near Daniel (and Armand).
So in this new role he can help Daniel and as a double agent he can keep Raglan James and the Talamasca at bay.
(The Talamasca seems to have a more active role in the AMC Universe than in the books, see also Mayfair Witches. So vampires might also engage with them more actively.)
Are there clues that Raglan James is not who he says he is?
A few. He speaks weirdly. He articulated his name in a weird way and Daniel immediately asked: "Got a real name?" Like he doesn't believe it. It is a clue for the audience: something is going on and we need to pay attention.
And he seems to be bad at his job. Raglan James was not bad at his job, he was just reckless because of bad character. He was actually a genius, but bored and distracted easily. He got kicked out of the Talamasca, because he was using his paranormal powers and knowlegde for personal gain. He lied to the Talamasca and robbed them. David says in ToTBT: "He deceived us with elaborate fabrications and counterfeit records on a scale you wouldn't believe. He loves that sort of connivance." And: "With his gifts he should have been able to deceive us forever."
And look at his interaction with Daniel:
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Raglan James says awkwardly (and too loudly): "I will stop looking at you now." And pretends to have a phone conversation. At the end, the whole restaurant is looking at them and listening.
Does that look like a genius secret agent who could have deceived the Talamasca forever? I don't think so. A good agent would have the situation under control. Something is off. Is it Marius? Pathetic, nerdy, vain and controlfreak Marius who thought he could play a secret agent and failed miserably? Maybe.
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