#and about how no action is without its effect

[letsdrinkcoffeeinhell]

Beginners deserve better advice, and writing should be more interesting than this.

1. Show don't tell is the most repeated piece of advice you will hear, and it's worthless. Showing is a tool, telling is a tool, deploy them where you think they're most effective. Telling the reader how someone feels is almost always faster than showing them, and sometimes its better to preserve the pace of a scene. Practice doing both.

2. Head hop as much as you want, whenever you want. Third person omniscient is a fun perspective to play with. Explore every feature of your writing to find new techniques and tools to help tell your stories. Practically, you'll probably want at least a paragraph break between "heads," and starting the new paragraph with either the character's name or a lead-in sentence to ease the reader in is usually wise. 3. "Infodumping" is just inelegant exposition. Be elegant with it. If you find yourself having to rely on dialogue for something as foundational as exposition, considering working to strengthening your prose.

4. OP is a coward. If blade runner can start with exposition, so can your book. It's challenging to make that interesting and engaging, yes, but learning how to do that is the entire point of learning how to write. Those are the skills you're trying to gain and improve.

5. If suspense is the only force driving your reader to turn the next page, you've wasted every page before it. They should be invested in your world, your characters, and your story enough to want to continue without you constantly jangling your keys in front of them like the subway surfers gameplay under a tiktok. Discworld doesn't have chapter breaks, and Terry Pratchett is one of the best writers the English language has ever produced. This advice is useful if you're writing a thriller, or if you need to rely on it for the first few pages or chapters while you're still getting people invested. Otherwise, your chapter breaks should serve whatever structural purpose you desire.

6. Subverting expectations is advice for comedians and disgraced game of thrones tv show writers. Sometimes you just want to set aside a scene to describe something beautifully, or to set expectations in the first place. Choose which events or sequences you summarise cautiously: you are erasing opportunities for style and storytelling.

7. Arriving late and leaving early is great if you're wasteful in your prose. Describing a character preparing for and leaving an event does not need to be exclusively a description of just those things. The way characters do things matters, actually. You don't need the pace of your story to be as fast as possible all the time. It's your story.

8. Epithets can tell you as much about the person using them (based on the perspective you're currently occupying) as the person they're used for. If you plan to use multiple perspective characters you can use different epithets to describe the same person. You can do the same thing from the same character's perspective as they progress through their character arc. Like everything else, they are a tool for you to use wherever you find appropriate.

9. Characters are allowed to be aimless if that's what their character arc calls for at some points, and having them shift back and forth from being aimless to having a set goal can be interesting. It's up to you to decide how driven any given character is at all times.

10. If you think a scene is required by the story but you don't think it'll be something you'll enjoy working on, try to rework the scene into something that achieves the same effect but is more engaging for you to write. (I don't disagree with OP on this point, I'm just wording it to be more actionable.)

0. Writing is an art. Be an artist. Don't feel pressured to follow another artist's advice exclusively because they seem more "successful" than you are. Seek out artists who make the kind of art you are inspired by, and try to learn from them and their art.

my 10 holy grail pieces of writing advice for beginners

from an indie author who's published 4 books and written 20+, as well as 400k in fanfiction (who is also a professional beta reader who encounters the same issues in my clients' books over and over)

show don't tell is every bit as important as they say it is, no matter how sick you are of hearing about it. "the floor shifted beneath her feet" hits harder than "she felt sick with shock."

no head hopping. if you want to change pov mid scene, put a scene break. you can change it multiple times in the same scene! just put a break so your readers know you've changed pov.

if you have to infodump, do it through dialogue instead of exposition. your reader will feel like they're learning alongside the character, and it will flow naturally into your story.

never open your book with an exposition dump. instead, your opening scene should drop into the heart of the action with little to no context. raise questions to the reader and sprinkle in the answers bit by bit. let your reader discover the context slowly instead of holding their hand from the start. trust your reader; donn't overexplain the details. this is how you create a perfect hook.

every chapter should end on a cliffhanger. doesn't have to be major, can be as simple as ending a chapter mid conversation and picking it up immediately on the next one. tease your reader and make them need to turn the page.

every scene should subvert the character's expectations, as big as a plot twist or as small as a conversation having a surprising outcome. scenes that meet the character's expectations, such as a boring supply run, should be summarized.

arrive late and leave early to every scene. if you're character's at a party, open with them mid conversation instead of describing how they got dressed, left their house, arrived at the party, (because those things don't subvert their expectations). and when you're done with the reason for the scene is there, i.e. an important conversation, end it. once you've shown what you needed to show, get out, instead of describing your character commuting home (because it doesn't subvert expectations!)

epithets are the devil. "the blond man smiled--" you've lost me. use their name. use it often. don't be afraid of it. the reader won't get tired of it. it will serve you far better than epithets, especially if you have two people of the same pronouns interacting.

your character should always be working towards a goal, internal or external (i.e learning to love themself/killing the villain.) try to establish that goal as soon as possible in the reader's mind. the goal can change, the goal can evolve. as long as the reader knows the character isn't floating aimlessly through the world around them with no agency and no desire. that gets boring fast.

plan scenes that you know you'll have fun writing, instead of scenes that might seem cool in your head but you know you'll loathe every second of. besides the fact that your top priority in writing should be writing for only yourself and having fun, if you're just dragging through a scene you really hate, the scene will suffer for it, and readers can tell. the scenes i get the most praise on are always the scenes i had the most fun writing. an ideal outline shouldn't have parts that make you groan to look at. you'll thank yourself later.

happy writing :)

[hexcodewisteria]

i love how shisui's actions at the end of vol. 4 haunt the rest of the story even if she's rarely ever mentioned by name. her actions and plan first of all are what causes the entire paradigm shift in the series— ending the power of the shi clan and warning jinshi while also effectively forcing jinshi's disguise in the rear palace to end.

and then the effects follow maomao throughout the rest of the story— the obvious stuff with maomao grieving her when the appropriate mentions come up and looking into markets for the hairstick and then in vol. 5 maomao even figures out the locust/grasshopper mystery because of the clues shisui left behind and then there's the one moment in— i think volume 10 or 11? where maomao touches jinshi's scar and tells him he's not immortal, that he can be scarred and brought low— that scar wouldn't have been there without shisui doing so in the first place (admittedly this is a very little thing compared to the rest but it's still significant because its part of the whole cascading events at the end of vol. 4). every action she made and the relationships she created even if it was under a false identity still deeply mattered and her presence is felt even when the scene isn't about her or the shi clan but because her actions and character were so momentous, even if her total time in the story proper was barely two or three volumes.

[mypizzawizard]

I just felt like I had to share my experience rewatching rots in cinemas cuz it was so precious.

This has been my favorite sw movie since I first watched the movies nearly ten years ago. It’s from my favorite trilogy with my favorite characters who I feel most connected to, and I have always felt sad I never got to experience it on the big screen, the other day I was given that oppurtunity.

But what was equally as impactful as seeing Obi-Wan and Anakin battling it out on Mustafar, was also to see my best friend experience it for the first time and her reaction to it.

We talked about seeing it together for a month, she never had any interest in watching star wars but was up for it for my sake.

The weekend before she watched The Phantom Menace, thought it was okay but not without its flaws, the same with Attack of the clones although she seemed somewhat more invested in that one.

However she was mildly curious going into the cinema, I told her nothing of the movie or the plotlines or how great i and everyone else thought it was mainly because I wanted her to experience it for herself.

All she knew was that it was my favorite movie, I was jealous of her cuz she would see it for the first time on the big screen, and it was about how Anakin falls to the dark side and becomes Vader. Thats all she knew and I said nothing further about it, playing it cool and casual.

Now when the movie starts she probably doesn’t have that high expectations and she just quietly watches it, and she does have some sceptical reactions about Anakin executing Dooku.

We go forward with Ani's Visions, Palpatine's tale about Plagueis where she gave me a long look when she finally understood, watching Obi-Wan Vs Grievous with more interest and then the same with Windu Vs Palpatine.

This is where she gets REALLY into it when Anakin joins along and she looks at me several times obviously seeing my distressed reaction too, constantly asking if Anakin will kill him, then we obviously see him being declared as Vader while she is so stressed about his actions, not wanting him to turn to the dark side.

Once Order 66 is executed i can see she is completely blown away by it, and the movie and seeing her reaction on Anakin marching on the temple and order 66 was priceless. By this point she had curled up in her seat, gripping it while she watched in shock and sometimes slapped me on the arm when something shocking happened and giving me long glances.

AND HER REACTION TO THE YOUNGLINGS.

It was fr dead quiet in the cinema and up there on the back she audibly gasped "no", dropping her jaw conpletely on the floor while she just stared large-eyed at Anakin's actions.

We go forwards to the battle of the heroes, we see Obi-Wan duel against Anakin on Mustafar while Yoda takes on Palps, where she was so worried for Yoda and constantly asking if he was dead and so on.

At the end, she cried when we saw Padmes funeral, Anakin becoming Vader, and the twins being hidden away.

Once we got on the train she yapped constantly about the movie and Anakin's actions and she immediately asked me what will happen to him and I said thats what we see in the next trilogy where we follow Luke and Leia, and we talked about it more and she was so keen on knowing whether Anakin redeems himself.

One touching thing she said was that before she had an idea what star wars was about and that she thought it was just space battles and the usual, but she was so shocked it was really a love story, and how that just blew her away.

When she got home she called me and demanded that I give her an entire list of all sw media ever produced in chronological order so she could watch it, and she actually begged me quite stubbornly multiple times lol when I forgot it.

I just thought this was such a precious reaction for people who have never seen SW before and how great of a movie ROTS truly is to give such an effect.

Mind you, she can be quite picky with loving movies and shows, but I have never seen her actually get so into a movie before and I love how this experience and ROTS being the great movie it is, having made a new fan to the franchise and yeah im so glad its back in theatres cuz theres so many people out there who gets to experience it for the first time! :)

[rocaillefox]

ppl reading repent harlequin said the ticktockman bc of the blorbo poll.... my influence hehehe

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[corellianhounds]

I know we (rightfully) give Attack of the Clones a lot of grief for Obi-Wan just being able to show up unannounced and for him to just be given the literal biggest state secrets possibly of the entire war, in addition to how this cloning operation has been going on for like a decade without anyone knowing anything or any documentation crossing Mace Windu’s desk, but considering Sifo Dyas or Dooku or whoever was able to somehow erase an entire planet from (allegedly) every known bit of data collection or documentation, it could be argued that maybe Dyas and Dooku were just master forgers and had fake correspondence and reports going between them and the Kaminoans for over a decade now.

It’s not that far of a leap to say they got their hands on some heavily encrypted software on some very expensive computers and were able to imitate different speech patterns and documents and handwriting and official stamps or even holograms and holocalls. As far as the Kaminoans know, all of their contacts are fully aware and in the know about this clone army (because as far as they know, Sifo Dyas is alive and had to have been in communication recently)— When Obi-Wan shows up, it just happened to be at the exact time Dooku was the one supposed to be there in person himself that day. The Kaminoans did greet him as Master Jedi and said he was expected.

Obviously that could have only worked in the movie if Dooku had shown up and we saw him having to keep his cool/sneak around when some other Kaminoans tell him his “assistant” has already arrived, would you like us to escort you to him?

Internally Dooku’s thinking “WHOMST??” but externally he’s keeping his chill while searching the Force for whoever else might be— is that OBI-WAN KENOBI??

It’s soooooo tasty for Qui-Gon’s master and Qui-Gon’s apprentice to meet under these circumstances. Both of them know the other shouldn’t be there right now. They’re both having to play it cool in front of the Kaminoans, and this is even besides the fact Kenobi was there to find the bounty hunter assassin in the first place.

“I didn’t think you… were still as active in the Order,” Obi-Wan says slowly and diplomatically, knowing for a FACT that Dooku left the Order a long time ago.

“I… retired from active service,” Dooku says, equally diplomatically. “I act as a… consultant from time to time.”

“It’s soooo funny how I’ve never heard anything about that or this clone army the Jedi ordered,” Obi-Wan says, making direct eye contact with Dooku and probably trying to read his mind (to no avail). “The one they ordered ten years ago before there was ever any thought of the Jedi being actively involved on the frontlines of what isn’t a declared war. What would the Jedi want with a military in the first place?”

“How old are you, young one?” Dooku deflects in that fake kindly condescending grandfatherly voice. “How long have you been on the Council— Oh you’re just a Kniiiiight, that’s right, okay I see. How interesting. How much information are you actually privilege to, Obi-Wan?”

And this is all happening even before Obi-Wan Nancy Drew’d his way to Jango Fett’s private quarters!

Obi-Wan KNOWS he can’t go rogue right now when he’s that far from his ship on a city surrounded by an ocean and a literal army of clones soldiers (of that one super efficient bounty hunter, whenever it is he finds that out) all apparently under the command (?) of someone who definitely definitely super should not be speaking or doing or ordering anything under the name of the Jedi Order.

Count Dooku (who he doesn’t even know is a Sith yet) could very easily accuse him of being an impostor and have him detained or attacked or killed on sight. Zam Wessel was already established to be a shapeshifter in this movie, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility for Obi-Wan to not be who he says he is (which is kinda true?? since he WASN’T the Jedi ambassador for the Temple there to pick up his to-go order of a quarter-million identical men, with a million more on the way??). The Kaminoans might not even know much else about Jedi and Sith aesthetics besides “Wears robes” so if Dooku pulled a red lightsaber it might not even faze them, since he’d be able to provide more information and correspondence proving he’s the ‘actual’ Jedi anyway

Like can you imagine a fight breaking out not just between Kenobi and Jango, but a team-up of Jango and Dooku against Kenobi? That would have jumpstarted some of this clone army business a lot earlier in the movie and actually addressed what should have been the biggest conspiracy, coverup, and militaristic move of the MILLENNIUM

[dykedvonte]

you make really good points, I think I used the term karmic wrong sorry. I think of it more as not how I personally think he deserved all that happened to him (which thinking back os exactly what karma means, I messed up sorry), but as his fate being directly tied/parallel to anyas. I handnt noticed the toxicity of jimmy and curlys relationship, from the first playthrough I watched and the first interactions I had w fandom I saw so many ppl just. dismiss the terror Anya went through and focus too much on him as the "ultimate victim" and that just didn't sit well w me. I really dislike seeing ppl go "oh well nothing could've been done" I think it's much more complex than that. also I forgot to mention in the last ask that I really appreciate you bringing the point that this game isn't just about the harm of patriarchy but also very very critical to capitalism, I haven't seen too many ppl touch on this. I hadn't thought too deeply about how it makes "he deserved to become disabled as punishment" come up and I agree that's really messed up. I'll try watching a playthrough again with all of this in mind. but either way thanks! I really appreciate your answer 🫶🏼

I guess this is just part of being in a fandom like this. I've noticed a lot of people don't actually see posts outside of their curated view. So some people only get like anya posting or jimmy or curly and it can make it seem like that is what is saturating the conversation.

I mainly just follow the general tags and look for anything new because I'm like obsessed but I know some are only looking for what they want or believe to be the case and can get weird about other ideas.

Sorry if I came off mean its just a last few of the asks have been like circular conversations like this and its not draining per say but seeing all the nuance and details get overlooked to fit a straightforward and basic narrative really sucks cause there's a lot to explore character and theme wise.

[overly-hubristic-mad-scientist]

ok so given everything went well the the Bride’s Reanimation what exactly did Dan decide to do? Because while he did agree to her creation with the agreement that she would be his replacement Meg, she’s not she has a different brain and based on what we saw a different personality what will Dan’s reaction be if she’s not what he originally wanted? Will he get discontent and look for happiness elsewhere like he did with Herbert? Will he resent her for not being Meg? Even if she was similar enough for him there’s no guarantee that she would love him back, which is extremely understandable since he is essentially her parent. What if the Bride just isn’t into Dan at all and just wants a dad? Will he leave? Will he blame her? Will he blame Herbert? Will he just lose it and try to inflict harm (he’s not emotionally stable especially not when it comes to romance) I’m kinda curious to know what will happen

[snekdood]

ik we talk about "karma" in the sense of "whatever you do will come back to bite you", but in a more realistic sense it just means action. every action has a reaction, etc. which is why its incorrect to blame your god/gods for the way you're mistreated in life bc 1. everyone has free-will and 2. they dont have control over the wheel of karma (at least not in hinduism), so when you're mistreated, you shouldn't ask "what have I done to accrue karma in the form of mistreatment" you should ask "why do these people suck so much", lol. it's not your god/gods punishing you, its other people exercising their free will and choosing to use it in a way that makes them suck as human beings 🤷 dont let people get off the hook by blaming the gods or some sort of nebulous "karma" you cant pin down, blame the people for being pieces of shits, dont let them think they're not actors in this and are just dutifully mistreating you on behalf of the laws of karma, bc they aren't, thats not how karma fucking works.

[fozmeadows]

there is no ethical consumption under capitalism

Years ago now, I remember seeing the rape prevention advice so frequently given to young women - things like dressing sensibly, not going out late, never being alone, always watching your drink - reframed as meaning, essentially, "make sure he rapes the other girl." This struck a powerful chord with me, because it cuts right to the heart of the matter: that telling someone how to lower their own chances of victimhood doesn't stop perpetrators from existing. Instead, it treats the existence of perpetrators as a foregone conclusion, such that the only thing anyone can do is try, by their own actions, to be a less appealing or more difficult victim.

And the thing is, ever since the assassination of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson, I've kept on thinking about how, in this day and age, CEOs of big companies often have an equal or greater impact on the day to day lives of regular people than our elected officials, and yet we have almost no legal way to redress any grievances against them - even when their actions, as in the case of Thompson's stewardship of UHC, arguably see them perpetrating manslaughter at scale through tactics like claims denial. That this is a real, recurring thing that happens makes the American healthcare insurance industry a particularly pernicious example, but it's far from being the only one. Because the original premise of the free market - the idea that we effectively "vote" for or against businesses with our dollars, thereby causing them to sink or swim on their individual merits - is utterly broken, and has been for decades, assuming it was ever true at all. In this age of megacorporations and global supply chains, the vast majority of people are dependent on corporations for necessities such as gas, electricity, internet access, water, food, housing and medical care, which means the consumer base is, to all intents and purposes, a captive market. We might not have to buy a specific brand, but we have to buy a brand, and as businesses are constantly competing with one another to bring in profits, not just for the company and its workers, but for C-suites and shareholders - profits that increasingly come at the expense of workers and consumers alike - the greediest, most inhumane corporations set the financial yardstick against which all others are then, of necessity, measured. Which means that, while businesses are not obliged to be greedy and inhumane in order to exist, overwhelmingly, they become greedy and humane in order to compete, because capitalism encourages it, and because there are precious few legal restrictions to stop them from doing so. At the same time, a handful of megacorporations own so many market-dominating brands that, without both significant personal wealth and the time and resources to find viable alternatives, it's all but impossible to avoid them, while the ubiquity of the global supply chain means that, even if you can keep track of which company owns which brand, it's much, much harder to establish which suppliers provide the components that are used in the products bearing their labels. Consider, for instance, how many mainstream American brands are functionally run on sweatshop labour in other parts of the world: places where these big corporations have outsourced their workforce to skirt the already minimal labour and wage protections they'd be obliged to adhere to in the US, all to produce (say) electronics whose elevated sticker price passes a profit on to the company, but without resulting in higher wages for either the sweatshop workers overseas or the American employees selling the products in branded US stores.

When basically every major electronics corporation is engaged in similar business practices, there is no "vote" our money can bring that causes the industry itself to be better regulated - and as wealthy, powerful lobbyists from these industries continue to pay exorbitant sums of money to politicians to keep government regulation at a minimum, even our actual votes can do little to effect any sort of change. But even in those rare instances where new regulations are passed, for multinational corporations, laws passed in one country overwhelmingly don't prevent them from acting abusively overseas, exploiting more desperate populations and cash-poor governments to the same greedy, inhumane ends. And where the ultimate legal penalty for proven transgressions is, more often than not, a fine - which is to say, a fee; which is to say, an amount which, while astronomical by the standards of regular people, still frequently costs the company less than the profits earned through their unethical practices, and which is paid from corporate coffers rather than the bank accounts of the CEOs who made the decisions - big corporations are, in essence, free to act as badly as they can afford to; which is to say, very. Contrary to the promise of the free market, therefore, we as consumers cannot meaningfully "vote" with our dollars in a way that causes "good" businesses to rise to the top, because everything is too interconnected. Our choices under global capitalism are meaningless, because there is no other system we can financially support that stands in opposition to it, and while there are still small businesses and companies who try to operate ethically, both their comparative smallness and their interdependent reliance on the global supply chain means that, even if we feel better about our choices, we're not exerting any meaningful pressure on the system we're trying to change. Which means that, under the free market, trying to be an ethical consumer is functionally equivalent to a young woman dressing modestly, not going out alone and minding her drink at parties in order to avoid being raped. We're not preventing corporate predation or sending a message to corporate predators: we're just making sure they screw other worker, the other consumer, the other guy.

All of which is to say: while I'd prefer not to live in a world where shooting someone dead in the street is considered a valid means of redressing grievances, what the murder of Brian Thompson has shown is that, if you provide no meaningful recourse for justice against abusive, exploitative members of the 1%, then violence done to those people will have the feel of justice, because it fills the void left by the lack of consequences for their actions. It's the same reason why people had little sympathy for the jackass OceanGate CEO who killed himself in his imploding sub, or anyone whose yacht has been attacked by orcas - it's just intensified here, because where the OceanGate CEO was felled by hubris and the yachts were random casualties, whoever killed Thomspon did so deliberately, because of what he did. It was direct action against a man whose policies very arguably constituted manslaughter at scale; a crime which ought to be a crime, but which has, to date, been permitted under the law. And if the law wouldn't stop him, can anyone be surprised that someone might act outside the law in retaliation - or that regular people would cheer for them when they did?

[whateveriwant]

Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(

I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.

Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.

But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.

So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.

While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.

Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.

It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.

Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.

It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.

His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.

Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.

In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.

The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.

In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.

You'll have to remember for next time.

[etaleah]

I think a lot about the fact that the real genius of Hbomberguy’s plagiarism video was not just the exposé aspect of it but the fact that it so effectively demonstrated WHY plagiarism is bad.

When teachers warned against plagiarism in school, they made it seem like the reason it was bad was because it got you out of doing work. Plagiarism was bad because it was lazy. And that is (1) not a very strong deterrent to students who are only taking this class and writing this paper because they’re forced to and therefore don’t care about the work, and (2) missing the real harm behind the action.

On some level, yeah, plagiarism is bad because it will prevent you from learning how to write well on your own. There’s a real fear that a generation of kids won’t know how to write (which means they won’t know how to think) because they’ll be so used to having an “AI” machine do it for them that they’ll be helpless without it. That is very much a concern. But it’s far from the only issue. Harry laid out the other problems really well:

1. Plagiarism is enshittification. When you have to reword stuff to hide that you’re stealing it, the writing will be clunkier, wordier, more awkward, and less natural-sounding. This makes the piece worse, which isn’t good for anyone. Who needs more bad writing in the world?

2. Plagiarism spreads misinformation. Again, stealing stuff usually requires having to reword things to get around plagiarism checkers. That can make it very easy to (accidentally or purposely) rewrite a sentence to now be false instead of true. This is made worse by the fact that hiding the source of the information makes fact-checking impossible.

3. Plagiarism is anti-educational. If the audience doesn’t know where something came from, they can’t go visit that source to learn more about the topic. They’re prevented from finding any additional knowledge, which makes research—and therefore progress—difficult.

4. Plagiarism makes it impossible for creators to earn a living, thereby making it impossible to create. Funnily enough, this means less material for plagiarists to steal from, so the whole scam is really just a snake eating its own tail. Like all scams, it can’t last long. When plagiarists can make huge profits by stealing and putting out content faster because they’re stealing, the real creators who actually do the work have no chance. They can’t compete because they can’t create as fast as a plagiarist can steal. So they don’t make as much money, which means they can’t live off their work, which in turn means they can’t create anymore. This keeps going until all that’s left is stolen garbage.

There’s a lot to love about that video, but this part in particular is my favorite by far.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader

「 "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」

— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.

— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!

the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.

in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.

red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,

( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),

and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.

"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.

"nnno. m'not going with you."

"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"

"i already told you... i have a husband..."

your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."

archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?

"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.

definitely not your husband.

idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.

then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.

"night, this husband of yours loves you."

strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?

that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.

and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.

you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"

childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."

you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."

the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.

there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.

childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."

"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"

"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.

panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"

"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."

he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.

"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.

as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.

"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."

ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.

it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.

like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.

it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?

"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.

ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.

"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.

"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"

your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"

"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."

"i don wanna."

"..."

"just... one drop?"

"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."

"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"

ah. "...what's his name?"

"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."

"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.

"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."

just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.

"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."

(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds

tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):

@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima

[weirdmageddon]

i was thinking about this since i posted earlier about us needing to address the trend of gen z men being pulled into alt-right pipelines might have contributed to the outcome of this election.

i think contrapoints is really smart, and from what i’ve seen, has been way more effective at getting people out of harmful ideological pipelines than i’ve seen from the majority of leftists online who instead berate and drive a greater wedge of antipathy (though i understand why! and it can be very hard to have empathy for the people who see you as a threat). that antipathy makes the right more radicalized because they don’t feel like they can talk about anything without the “crazy lefties” who won’t even engage with them. where did these issues come from?

what i’ve noticed, and i’m even guilty of this, is that people don’t interact with groups of people whom they refuse talk to, which makes realities more hypothetical in the minds of their opponent since they aren’t open to seeing reality from their perspective. this is true on both sides. from what i’ve observed, it seems to originate from hypothetical perception of the opponent, but when people treat those perceptions as though they are real, it becomes real with their actions, which then makes the antipathy justified to someone. again, on both sides.

what makes contrapoints so successful at breaking this down is that is that she creates these socratic dialogue skits that represent real people and ideologies, has a sense of humor, isn’t afraid to discuss these things, reframes how we see these things by introducing nuance to both sides. she’s a leftist, but she also knows how to engage without ripening division, of meeting someone halfway and being completely humble about it. she is able to soften extremes.

she is able to get into the mind of people who aren’t aligned with her views, understand the nuance and rationales from a realistic perspective, breaking down a big block of “this is all bad” into “ok, some of this makes sense…”, what this does is create a space for self-reflection that doesn’t feel ham-fisted (which could otherwise cause people to double down on their beliefs instead of opening up to other perspectives outside of their bubble). while also being entertaining and well-produced on top of it.

what she is doing is creating these scenarios and socratic discussions that SHOULD be happening in real life but aren’t in this polarized social climate.

i graduated from new college of florida this spring, the small liberal arts college that was in headlines across the country for ron desantis’s board of trustees hostile takeover and exodus of professors.

new students and student athletes from conservative walks of life were being basically incentivized to go there who were taught to fear the lgbt boogeyman growing up in their conservative communities. but once they actually interacted with lgbt students there, many of them they felt like they understood them, and they weren’t as bad as they were told they would be. new college of florida was also famous for getting derek black (child of the man who created stormfront, and godchild of the kkk grand wizard david duke) out of white nationalism. their peers at NCF called them out but also interacted with them, invited them to dinner. black wrote a book about it.

now of course some people are too far gone and you shouldn’t waste your time with them, like derek’s family for example. but i also think a lot of people who voted for trump are not informed, are operating off of emotion and knee-jerk mentality because it’s easier than thinking, and they are not seeing the discussions that need to be had to change their mind because fuckin…nobody is doing them.

and we feel this visceral disgust to people of the opposing party because of its associations. i just want to know how it happened and how we got to be like this. i think social media is partly to blame and also the algorithms that take people down dangerous pipelines and sharpen them, insulate them.

i myself understand the vitriol you might have for anyone that voted for trump. i feel so disappointed that half the people of this country voted against our collective benefit. and i’ve seen a lot of sentiment from the left today saying “every single person who voted for trump is dead to me. i disowned you”.

you can see the reality of trump’s demagoguery, and it’s so obvious, but what i want to know is: what do they see? why did they vote for him? emotion and entertainment travel faster and have more reach than reason. and it’s that’s why i think contrapoints’s videos are exemplary at tackling this ideological divide. this is something i’ve been thinking about for months before today and i thought now was a better time than ever to give my two cents on it.

[justagirlswrld]

So wrong

a/n: accidentally deleted🫤. was gonna scrap this but @tiramissyoucake dilf!omni mark blurb gave me the motivation to finish it. (link here if you’d like to read it) feed back welcomed!

summary: if sneaking around with nolan is wrong why does it feel so right?

warning: porn w plot. slight breeding kink? cheating. age gap(reader in 20s, omni man is old asf). unprotected p in v. forgive me if it’s ooc but we need some omni man fics.

The first time you’d fucked Mr.Grayson- Nolan (it felt too weird to call him that now) was an accident.

You were driving home from a terrible date, ranting to yourself about how the guy was an asshole and how (sexually) frustrated you were when your car decided to break down. You hit the steering wheel in anger when you realized you were in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t afford a tow. You cursed yourself for going to an out of state college as you scrolled past your parent’s number on your phone.

You did the sensible thing and called your best friend, Mark. Your face dropped when his phone went to voicemail before quickly deciding to call Mrs.Grayson to make sure Mark wasn’t with his girlfriend or saving the world. It ended up being the latter but she’d reassured you that she’d send Nolan.

You should’ve just payed for the tow.

“Thank you so much, Mr.Grayson. I’m sorry for making you come out so late.” You greet him when he arrives, pulling your short skirt down out of respect. The action seemed to have the opposite effect as his smoldering gaze flicks to your barely covered skin then back to yours, running a hand through his bed head before flashing a breath taking smile.“Couldn’t leave a pretty thing like you stranded.”

To your surprise the comment had you turning from him to a hide a blush, confusion written on your features. The words echoed in your mind and you couldn’t help but admire the man as he tinkered with your vehicle, the way his shirt sleeves had to stretch to accommodate his biceps and how good his butt looked in grey sweat pants. Had Mr.Grayson always been this hot? The question rung in your head, You weren’t even sure hot was the right word, more like a silver fox.

You’d never thought of Nolan in a romantic way until that night. He’d always just been your best friend’s dad, totally off limits and old but as you watched him begin to jump your car you couldn’t help but to imagine it being your bones instead. These new feelings confused and kind of grossed you out but the lust wins over the adverse feelings, You didn’t shy away the next time his heated gaze turned to you- you’d never admit it but you sent one just as steamy back.

You’d stood by your drivers door as you prepared to say good bye to Nolan, a smile on your face to hide the nervousness you felt when he looked at you with his cerulean eyes. “Thank you again. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” He’d approached you then, slowly, like a lion not trying to scare off a gazelle. Before you knew it you two were chest to chest, his hulking frame looming over yours. Your breath hitched when you realized his proximity had you pressed against the car, the cold door a contrast from his breath warming your skin.

He’d placed a strong hand against the driver door to make sure he had you efficiently trapped, you’d learn later that Nolan loved to make you feel and look small, not that it took much. He’d looked down at you through dark lashes, a smirk fighting its way through his thick mustache,”Where are you running off to?”

Somehow, against your better judgment, you two ended up in the back seat of your car a moment later. You with your knees digging into the leather of the seats as you sunk onto Nolan, your soft hands using his brawny chest for purchase as he gripped the fat of your ass hard enough to cause bruises. You thanked whoever invented tinted windows as the car rocked on the side of the desolate road.

It was meant to be a one time thing, a mistake. A dirty secret that you’d both act like never happened. So, you were very surprised when Nolan called your phone the next day, words raspy and breathless as he tells you how he couldn’t stop thinking about your body writhing on top of his.

His honeyed voice had you squeezing your thighs together but a pool of shame made your stomach turn. “Nolan, we can’t-“ You’re not sure why you’re trying to explain something he was already aware of, so you’re unsurprised when he cuts you off. “You ever been to Italy?” Nolan crackles through the speaker of your phone, “I know a beautiful hotel there.”

You force yourself not to think of his chiseled abs and square jaw as you try to have a little dignity and remind him of his family, of your best friend. He takes your mention of them completely wrong or maybe he just doesn’t care, “It’s fine. They think i’m in space already, we’ve got all day.”

Your finger hovers over the red ‘end call’ button as you purse your lips.

Ultimately you can’t resist his temptation and you’re flying high in the sky, wrapped in his strong arms thirty minutes later.

A day turned to days then to months and the thing you kept telling yourself was a one time occurrence bloomed into something so much more, an actual affair. You hated calling it that- an affair, it made what you and Nolan were doing too…real. But with all the secret rendezvous there wasn’t a better way to describe it.

You knew sneaking around with Nolan was wrong. More than wrong, so unforgivable you couldn’t stand looking in the mirror after he made you shudder and cum on his cock. But..there was something about him that kept pulling you back for more.

Even though it made you feel shameful…dirty at times, like there was a neon sign that said home wrecker flashing above your head. You felt a mountain of guilt whenever you were with Mark, smiled in Debbie’s face or simply even thought about the Grayson family…especially when you thought about the irrevocable damage you were causing to it.

With these emotions swirling around in your head you decided to end….whatever you had going on with Nolan. When he asked you to meet last night you decided to just drop the news on him, you figured it was like ripping off a bandaid.

There was no fake small talk and absolutely no sex, you knew if he got his beefy hands on you you’d probably be ensnared in his trap once again. You didn’t even let him pass the threshold of your apartment as you broke things off with him. Nolan had taken it pretty well, his blue eyes and calm demeanor not betraying any emotions. Not that you expected anything different. It was just sex, the only feeling involved was pleasure.

“Can I come in one last time? I have to leave for a mission tonight. Not sure when i’ll be back.” He’d propositioned, nodding with a small smile when you sternly shook your head no. You were sure he thought you’d change your mind and fall in bed with him (not that you didn’t want to).

When the conversation was finally over and you were watching Nolan’s hulking frame retreat down the hall it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. And with Nolan being out of your life and off the planet you didn’t blow off Mark when he invited you to dinner with his mom and Eve a the next day.

When you walk into the Grayson’s home, bottle of sweet red wine in hand, your smile fades and it feels like you’ve been dunked in ice water when your eyes met the azure pair staring at you from his place on the living room couch. His strong bicep around his wife’s neck as she waves you inside with a smile.

You pick your jaw up from the floor, quickly smiling to hide your flabbergasted state before greeting Mark’s parents. You feel wrong as you hug Debbie, you and her husband eyeing each other during the entire exchange. “ I haven’t seen you in so long! Nolan and I miss you around the house.” You felt like you might throw up in the poor woman’s face but you manage to swallow it down and smile uncomfortably in return.

You discard the wine onto the counter before taking the stairs two at a time to get to Mark’s room and away from his father’s unwavering stare. You couldn’t believe he was here (even if it was his house), as you walk down the hall you couldn’t help but think about the mischievous glint in his eyes.

You knock loudly and wait a moment before announcing yourself, pushing the wooden door open with your eyes closed as the sound of frantic shuffling meets your ears. You’d walked in on Eve and Mark before and once was good enough. “We’re decent, you can open your eyes!” Mark says from his place on the bed, his chest is heaving and his lips are red and raw from what you assume was kissing and it takes everything in you not to gag.

“Ew-but hey, Eve.” The red head greets you cheerfully as you sit at Mark’s desk before spinning around to meet her evergreen eyes, “Could you help me with my physics homework? It’s killing me.” As Eve tutors you your thoughts can’t help but wonder to places they shouldn’t, mainly to why Nolan had lied about going to space. You wondered if he’d been lying to you as well as his family these past couple of months.

“…Oh yeah- I thought your dad had a work thing?” You ask Mark as nonchalantly as possible once you and Eve finish, keeping your eyes on the text book you were stuffing into your bag. “He did. Said he had to take care of some stuff here.” He shrugs but never turns away from the half dressed characters fighting on the TV screen.

A hour later you’re in the kitchen getting some water, the smell of whatever Debbie was cooking wafting to your nose. You’re going to peek in the oven when the sound of a booming voice has you jumping out your shoes. The sound sends a shiver down your spine- you know that voice too well and you’re not surprised when you turn around and you’re met with Nolan, leaning against the kitchen island and unabashedly taking in your form.

“Did I catch you being naughty?” His tone is playful but his is gaze stern.

“Leave me alone, Nolan.” You set the glass of water down to place a hand on the counter, pouting your lips despite his words causing your heart to speed up. “I think I like Mr.Grayson better.” You scoff before rolling your eyes and crossing your arms defensively.

He goes to speak again but you cut him off quickly, “Why are you here?” You ask in a hushed whisper. A thick eyebrow raises and a smirk tugs at his full lips, “I live here.” Nolan says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No- you know what I mean. You said you’d be gone.” He pushes off the island before stalking over to you, you back away from his steps until your butt hits the warm stove.

Nolan’s breath is minty as he licks and nips the perspiring skin on your neck, his dark mustache scratching against the soft skin as your eyes dance between the stairs and the man in front of you.

His chest is against yours, you instantly mold against him. You’re like putty in his hands, if you weren’t so turned it’d be scary. This is a turn of events you definitely weren’t expecting and Nolan uses your shock to take the opportunity to push his large hand down the front of your yoga pants. Your breathing turning uneven as Nolan starts to pet you through the lace material of your panties.

“Wore these for me?” He says in a husky whisper. You want to tell him he’s delusional but with the way his lips tickle your ear and his free hand gropes your breast over your shirt, you have to harshly grip his bicep (the same bicep that was around his wife a moment ago) to steady yourself.

Your hand tugs on the wrist in your pants but he doesn’t budge. “You said you wouldn’t be here.” Your words are soft as you look up at him with a slight pout on your full lips, desire pooling in your stomach when you see how glazed over his eyes are.

“You stopped answering my calls so I didn’t go.” You want to argue, you’ve told him a thousand times not to prioritize you over the world but your breath hitches instead, his fingers dragging across your slick lips as he pulls your panties to the side.

You almost snap out of your stupor when your eyes meet Mark’s- not the actual Mark but his happy, brown eyes in the family portrait on the counter not too far from you. Nolan notices when you begin drifting from him, he removes his hand from your breast and callously knocks the picture over on its face.

It lands loudly and for a moment time seems to stop and you swear someone’s going to come flying down the stairs. Luckily for you everyone is too preoccupied. Not that Nolan cared, his free hand creeping under your shirt to fondle your breasts again.

It’s like you gained super senses. Able to feel every touch Nolan was giving to you, able to hear every bump or noise coming from upstairs. “W-we talked about this yesterday.” Your fingers finding the tail of Nolan’s shirt when he sinks his thick fingers into your warm cunt. He groans as you squeeze around him, the sound making your toes curl in your shoes.

“No, you talked and I listened.” His pace is slow, tantalizing, like he had all time in the world and no one could walk in and ruin the moment at anytime. The way his callused palm grinds into your clit has you fighting to keep your eyes open and you curse your weak resolve as your hips grind back.

“Tonight it’s my turn-“ The sound of Eve’s laughter has you trying to squirm out of his hold but his strong body has you trapped against the oven, his hard cock straining against the material of his jeans as he lightly grinds into you.

Nolan’s hand leaves your shirt to turn your head to meet his heavy stare. His hold is wet with your slick and his eyes bear into yours as he makes his demands, “Tell me i’ll see you tonight.”

You wanted to say no, to stand on your word as a better woman would. But when the hand on your jaw drops lower to squeeze your neck and the fingers between your thighs drag across a particularly satisfying spot, one that has you biting your lip to keep from crying out, you’re nodding before you can stop yourself. A smile lights Nolan’s face before he plants a big kiss on your lips, when he pulls away he thumbs your glistening cheek.

He hears Mark’s light steps before they can reach your human ears and he’s sitting on the couch watching TV before you can blink. You only have time to wipe your chin and straighten your shirt before he’s down the stairs, boyish grin on his face. Your heart is hammering in your chest, when Mark looks at you. You’re hoping he doesn’t notice the tint on your cheeks or your slightly frizzled hair.

His eye brows pull together in confusion and his voice is hard when he finally speaks, “Isn’t the food supposed to be done by now?”

“You’ve lost your mind.” Nolan’s standing in the middle of your living room late that night, clad in his red and white suit. He has the nerve to look confused like he hadn’t suggested the most outrageous thing you’d ever heard. “What?! It’s not uncommon for Viltrumites to take more than one partner.”

You look at him incredulously after pinching the bridge of your nose, “We are on Earth not Viltrum. Besides you’ve been married to Debbie for twenty years. She’ll kill you and me.” You huff as you flop on your worn couch. This was too much for you to process. You assumed Nolan had come over just to get his dick wet but now he’s talking about feelings you didn’t know existed- and marriage?!

“She’ll come around.” Nolan says in a matter of fact tone as he sits down beside you, taking your feet in his lap to massage them with his gloved hand. You don’t try to stop him, figuring you deserved it after the crazy ass proposal he dropped on you. “This is the Viltrumite way, she’ll have to see sense -“ Your loud sigh cuts off whatever nonsense he was going to say.

You pull your feet from him now, folding them so you can sit on them instead. You take Nolan’s large hands in yours and try to look deep in his eyes, hoping that it’ll help him see reason. “Nolan, I can’t marry you. That would destroy Mark and Debbie.” His grip tightens around yours but it isn’t painful, “I didn’t even know you felt this way about me….but you can’t- it’s too far. I thought we were just fucking.”

Nolan pulls a hand from yours to glide it through his greying hair, “…I didn’t know I felt this way either…then you broke things off.” His lips move like he wants to keep speaking but he doesn’t elaborate, he looks up at you through dark lashes, “No, marriage- okay. But we can keep..seeing each other?” Your lips form a straight line in frustration, it’s like everything you said went through one ear and out the next.

“It’s like you aren’t hearing me, Nolan. We can’t keep doing…this. Especially now.” You shake your head, trying to physically rid your mind of the fact that Nolan had just confessed his feelings for you. You didn’t even want to think about if you felt the same, even if you did the feelings would be shoved to the deepest, darkest pit in your brain.

“I can’t ruin your family.” Nolan huffs, like you’d said something so frivolous he can’t believe it. “Y/N…we already have.” Despite the scowl on your face he continues, “What would be the point in stopping now? Debbie is strong- so is Mark they’ll-“ You cut him off again before he goes too deep into his ramblings.

He watches as you slam your fist into the cushions on the couch, he almost smiles at your attempt to put your foot down. “Nolan! The answer is no- I can’t live with this-this guilt hanging over my me.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment but his face displays the internal turmoil Nolan must be going through. He starts that silent nodding thing and you think he might do something crazy until he starts to speak weakly.

“Can I taste you one more time?” You gulp audibly. The word no is on your tongue, it almost passes your lip until Nolan begins drawing circles on your knee with his thumb, something he’d usually save for after sex.

Somehow Nolan ends up on his knees on your carpeted floor, you didn’t bother moving to the bedroom, too focused on the man staring up at you as he pulls off your lounge shorts and panties.

“Just one lick.” It’s almost inaudible but Nolan was going to pretend he didn’t hear you anyway. He grabs a throw pillow to stuff under his head before waving you over to sit on his handsome face. You’re hesitant, biting your nail to calm your nerves like you haven’t been in this position one hundred times.

The sound of your name brings you back to reality, the way it sounds coming from between Nolan’s lips has your body flushing. You comply and move yourself over to his awaiting mouth, knees digging into the carpet. He licks his lips before he pulls you the rest of the way down by your hips.

Nolan is sloppy when he eats pussy. His nose bumping into your clit with every hard lick over your folds, before his tongue takes its place, gently flicking against the swollen bud. His eyes are closed, long lashes resting on his cheek bones, he seems relaxed while you’re already a moaning mess on top of him. You grab his inky locks as you move against his tongue, he moans as he grabs your hips tighter to assist you, rocking you slowly back and forth as he fucks you with his tongue.

Your painted toes curl when his soft lips wrap around your swollen clit and harshly suck. His name leaves your mouth in a gasp, hips bucking as a large hands moves from your hips to squeeze your ass, then creep up your stomach to rub your hardened nipples.

You can’t help but watch the show below you with lidded eyes. Nolan’s cheeks are dusted pink, his eyelids just as heavy as yours. Your thighs shudder around his legs as you feel your release approaching, “Fu-fuck, i’m gonna cum.” Nolan doesn’t let up and after a well timed flick of his tongue on your clit, you’re whimpering from the white-hot pleasure that surges through you. Nolan continues to lick and suck through your orgasm and doesn’t stop until you’ve pried him away by his mussed hair.

You’re unsurprised when you’re bent over the arm of your couch with Nolan’s hand tangled in your hair. Nolan’s thrown out everything you’d said before. He’s bending down to whisper in your ear, voice hitching as he tells you you’ll make such a pretty wife, how beautiful you’ll look once you’re round with his babies. Your brains so foggy from the tip of his cock hitting the spongy spot deep within you over and over again, that you can’t do anything but moan and babble nonsense.

His thick cock drags against your contracting walls as he watches himself push in and out of you, toes curling into the carpet when he notices the creamy white ring around himself. The squelch of your arousal and your melding moans can be heard over the TV and you’re sure you’re going to get complaints about it in the morning.

Nolan’s hand leaves your hair to smack your cheek, the skin already red from the previous abuse on your plump ass. You shudder as he begins leaving open mouth kisses on your back. “Pussys so wet…” It sounds like he’s talking to himself more than to you but you can’t help to whimper in response. “I could fuck you all day.” His speech is slurred as he pistons into you, one foot leaving the carpet to find its place beside you on the arm rest.

His hand leaves your neck as he fucks you into the couch, moving to spread your ass and lips open as he begins thrusting in an upward angle. You cum around him with a cry, hands fisting the pillows thrown haphazardly on the couch as you spasm around his cock.

Nolan pulls himself from you with a light groan, when you look over your shoulders you see he’s still rock hard, covered in your slick and his precum. You don’t have time to think before he’s grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder, you whine and he shushes you before palming your bare ass.

He kicks open your bedroom door like he owns the place before throwing you onto your unmade bed. You bite your lip as he crawls between your legs, kissing you from your feet to your thighs before pushing your legs back as far as they can go.

You’re sore when he sinks back into your heat but that doesn’t stop the pleasure from curling in your gut. Nolan lubes his thumb with the slick from your gushing cunt before he begins rubbing hard circles on your clit.

“You’re mine.” His voice is raspy but you hear his words perfectly. You whimper in response, you’re so far gone you can’t decipher whether if it’s in agreeance or disapproval but it’s enough for Nolan who drops his head into your neck, his hips never stilling.

Nolan’s sweaty body engulfs yours, your hard nipples rub against his chest as your hand finds its place in the pepper strands of his hair. When he raises his head and kisses you it’s sweet, a contradiction from the way his hips slam into your pelvis.

As you wrap your legs around Nolan’s thick waist you can’t help but to think that being a second wife can’t be too bad.

[visionsofmagic]

❝screaming another man’s name while being fucked by him❞

including: zoro, luffy, sanji, shanks [opla versions]

―❛ nsfw, brat!reader, f!reader, possessive behaviour, chocking (kinda), licking, different positions, daddy kink, swearing, pet names, spanking, angry sex, humiliation, begging, fingering, oral > f receiving, marking, claiming, mentions of voyeurism, hair, ‘is all  I suppose. ✸ wc: 2.3k ✸ posted only zoro’s version but didn’t appear on tags, so, I repost that part with others’ parts too. tried to stay in characters. enjoy!

⭑ ZORO

“oohhh - sanji!”

you moaned, not aware of your own moans until he asked, voice deep, sending radiations of danger.

“what did you just say?”

hands on your waist freezing, the pressure still on there yet it doesn’t continue pulling and pushing your body, stopping fucking you - the sudden silence in the room fills up with heavy breathing.

he holds you by the neck, raising your body up, he makes your back touch his bare chest, back arching - his cock twists inside your walls.

“I asked,” he says, warm breaths hitting your ear as his voice reaches every part of your body as if it's a poison - and he is the only cure for it. “what did you fucking say.”

it wasn’t intentional - you didn’t mean to moan another man’s name in the middle of fucking, but, it came as an instinct.

“z-zoro - I - didn’t mean to - aggh -!”

“didn’t mean to what? moaning another man’s name?” he chuckled, far away from entertaining, just pure annoyance. “moaning sanji’s name while my dick inside you, breakin’ you into half, hm?”

you can’t answer, you can’t even comprehend what to do because you don’t understand why you moaned sanji’s name. however, zoro knows you more than you do, and owns every knowledge about the hidden meanings behind your actions, words, and looks - he isn’t dumb, he knows how you close your thigh around sanji whenever he cooks, watching him from the corner of your eyes as you bite your lips without even noticing it.

it is not that zoro doesn’t get jealous, he does and he will prove it right away yet he wants to satisfy you in every way he can - he can see the truth behind the whole thing; you want the full attention that you try to make him angry with all these acts, and you have no idea that you’re doing all that only for him - for zoro so that he can get possessed around you.

he’s a pleaser though, for you, and he will plan your little game, giving what you want.

“maybe I should call him,” he says, and whimpers when your pussy clenches around his length on its own - pure instinct, pure satisfaction. he smirks, pride runs in his veins, he really knows you - each hit point, each desire, everything. he leaves your body, bending it over again, ass getting higher.

he begins to fuck you so slow that you swear you will lose your mind anytime soon as his cock goes out of your horny clit until his tip touches your folds, only to shove it in again with a hard yet effective thrust.

weren’t his hands holding you by the hips, you would hit the wall in front of your face - moaning louder than before, afraid that the crew will hear you as you get fucked by furious zoro.

“ohh, I definitely should call him. wanna make him watch your pretty face as I fuck your hungry pussy for my cock,” he says, thrusting faster each passing time, making your hands grip the sleeves under you. “would you like that?” he asks, balls hitting every right spot of your ass cheeks, thrust begins to mixture of both pain and pleasure.

“ohhh - zoro - zoro -!”

“that’s right baby. roronoa zoro,” he kneels down, abdomen touching your back, dick reaches the end of your pussy, a hand grips your hair, pulling it harshly, “scream my fucking name louder, wanna hear it, wanna everyone hear it as well.”

“‘m sorry, zoro, ‘m so sorry -“

“oh please,” he mocks you, leaving your hair, only to hold you by the neck this time, pushing you onto the mattress lower, cries rush onto your face. soaking, you moan his name over and over again. “you’re not sorry at all. you’re just a slut, aren’t you?” his fingers play with your ass hole, sending a new sense of satisfaction into your body, “a slut only for my cock though,” he whispers into himself, slapping your ass, earning a scream out of your pretty parted lips.

then, he turns you around, and the cock swifts inside you - standing above you, he puts one of his hands beside your head, and the other one grips your neck completely, making you look up to his face - he finds the pace that he knows that will make you see starts.

eyes sparkling with lust as you look at him, half-closed, blurry already, dry tears on the cheeks, chest raising up and down rapidly while his cock fucks your abused clit harder, and deeper. “yes my slut,” he says, possessiveness can be heard through his voice, “look at who’s fucking you right now. not luffy, not that shitty waiter sanji either. just roronoa zoro. who’s fucking you? whose pussy is this? say it.”

“roro - ohhhh, shit - roronoa z-zoro!”

he nods with such pride that he smirks, still furious, but enjoying this so much that he decides to fuck you in every position he can until the whole crew knows you’re getting fucked by him in his damn room, crying only his name. “that’s it my pretty slut, you will never forget it. from now on, I will dig it into your dizzy head so that your legs will open on their own whenever you see me.”

“please, yes, yes, zoro!” going all mindless, you let him do what he wants - after all, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?

“pretty slut. gotta make you know who you belong to.”

⭑ LUFFY

“fuuuck - usopp!” the words - the moan comes out of you without your control, making his head higher up.

“huh? say somethin’ baby?” he asks, not stopping eating you from the back, fingers joined, brows raised, curiously looking at you.

“‘m so sorry, luffy - I - I wasn’t thinking straight- I - ohhh!” you try to say but your words are cut by his fingers scissoring inside you.

“oh,” he says, sounding not surprised but excited, chuckling even as he adds, “I didn’t hear it wrong then. you really moaned his name - while my tongue is deep inside you, fingering this beautiful pussy that I thought clenching because of how good I am fucking you.”

between your loud whimpers mixing with moans, you begin to say how sorry you are. you weren’t aware of it until the moment usopp’s name left your mouth. you knew it was luffy who was making you week on the knees, who’s have your legs wrapped around his bare shoulders, your pussy wide open, hands on his curly hair as you pull them whenever his tongue and fingers reach your g-spot - only he can fuck you like this, you know it! but why you moaned usopp’s name, why you pictured him in your mind beside luffy are the questions you have no answers to.

“I don’t know what happened to me - ohhh - luffy, ‘m so sorry - fuuck!”

both moaning with pleasure and crying with pure guilt, you try to hide your face from luffy, a hand positioned on your half of the face, not looking at him, afraid that you made him upset and disappointed yet luffy is there to prove you wrong when he leaves your pussy, gets up, holding you by the chin as he lowers down, making both of you hit the bed underneath you.

hovering over you, he makes you see his smiling face, lips shining because of your soaking, eyes sparkling.

“oh, pretty baby, look at me,” he says, caressing your chin, “I am not mad. not at all. if you want to bring another man into the bed -“

“no, no - I don’t - I really don’t!” you protest, so shy at the thought. you only want luffy, you know that, and you want to apologize to him for being such a greedy girl, “you’re my one and only luffy. I only want you.”

he chuckles softly, shaking his head, fingers finally finding your aching pussy again, playing with it as he says, “‘s okay. if I am the only one you want, then, let me fuck you that your whole body remember I am the one and only for it.”

he keeps his promises, fucking you until the only thing you have on your mind is him - nothing more, nothing less.

yet he doesn’t leave you without teasing you, giving you wet kisses, markings, and even slaps from here to there - enjoying seeing you all shy yet greedy for him.

⭑ SANJI

“oh yes, yes, yes, right there - so good so good - please more, zoro, please!”

“hm? what?” he asks in a surprised tone, hands stopping playing with your breasts, tongue staying on the hardened nipple without moving, eyes looking up to your confused face from where he stays on - your exposed chest.

he smirks, a bit of jealousy and entertainment at the same time, realizing you have no clue about what you said a second ago, legs push him closer - wanting his cock deep inside your warm walls to start moving again because you can’t understand why he has stopped fucking you.

“oh my beautiful madam,” he teases, “can’t even realize he moaned another man’s name while having my cock warm inside her pussy!”

your eyes widen after you comprehend the words he’s saying.

you swear lowly, hands touch his well-built chest, heat rushing all over your face, and you begin to feel guilt blooming inside your abdomen which has twisted.

“sanji - I am so sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t -“ he cuts you off, right hand finds your neck as long fingers caress your face.

his face so close to yours as he chuckles, “oh, did my pretty lady remember who’s fucking her? not zoro, eh?”

he can’t decide whether he should feel humiliated or amused. yet he doesn’t go hard on you, moving his hips, he earns low moans from you - hands trembling on his chest, the dilemma rises up inside the mind, thoughts about zoro shuts down by sanji, he shoves his dick into you slowly and in one go as if he’s trying to remind you that you’re under him - not zoro’s or any other man’s.

“please, sanji - faster, please!” your please now is filled with his name comes as prays into his ears, the pride increases, giving sanji a chance to play with your cute little mind.

“that’s right baby, sanji - say that again.” his movements become faster, harder.

“sanji, sanji, sanji - aggh, so good -“ with the help of the last decent you have, you moan his name louder and louder, wanna make him prove that you’re mind full of him, giving him the apology he deserves in a way he would like to get; being so noisy that everyone will acknowledge what you’re doing behind the doors.

“would make a mess out of you. you will leave this room barely walking because of me,” his possession is perceivable, burning you alive with the desire for more. hands grip your inner thighs, opening them wider, a painful breath leaves your lungs as you shut your eyes, giving sanji what he wants; devouring you to tame you.

“pretty lady needs a lesson, and I am here to give it.”

⭑ SHANKS

he doesn’t say much, chuckling or laughing would suit him better but he knows you should have known that no one can fuck you like he does when another’s man comes from you - moaning with it instead of saying shank’s name.

holding you from the waist, he takes control of you, not letting you ride him no more, sweats flow from your body into his.

the moment you hear his voice, memories of the past seconds rush to your mind, and you find yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, afraid that he will push you.

contrary to what you expect, shanks moves your hips slowly, forth, and back - his balls feel heavy under you, hair on his lower abdomen makes the pleasure double.

you hold your tears; blurry vision, soaking clit, reddened face, agape mouth - pathetic yet beautiful, he thinks. “daddy’s cock isn’t enough for you, hm, is this the case why you moan another man’s name like that even when you’re,” he takes your chin, making you look down, seeing the mess you’re creating, “cumming onto my cock?”

“it’s not it, shanks!” earn a spank on your ass.

“then what is it princess?” he asks, brows raised, fingers traveling on your body, “am I not fucking you good that you fantasize about another man while bouncing on my lap?”

he lets you say countless sorry words, cries inside his arms, explaining how you didn’t mean to do that, how he’s the only one for you yet he doesn’t seem satisfied, taking a deep breath, raising your body then lowering it down - cock thrusting deep and hard.

throwing your head, you begin to beg for him to forgive you, to fuck you.

“in that case,” he says, putting himself a glass of wine from the small table beside you while still sitting on his favorite chair that he fucks you onto. leaning back, he moves his hand in the air, “fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you can beg for my cock, then, I will forgive you and fuck your greedy pussy princess,”

he watches you going blank for a moment before beginning to bounce on him, moaning from the throat, hands traveling around your body to make a show only for his eyes.

he whimpers lowly, a smirk lightening his attractive face, eyes burning in fire, “give daddy a show. and when you’re done, I will call for him and make him watch as I fuck you good.”

❤💙

taglist • tagging: @snowprincesa1 ❦