#don't use them to write your novel for you PLEASE

[earlgreytea68]

Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

[bethanydelleman]

Honestly, the thing that bothers me the VERY MOST in the Jane Austen or any classic lit fandom is when someone says, "I'm really struggling reading these novels, it seems like a different type of English, any tips?" And there are always a few comments like:

Austen is modern English

I read these books in high school

It's not that hard

Which I hate because

This is the internet. They may not be a native English speaker. They may be one of the dozens of people who don't live in the US!

Yes, Jane Austen uses modern English, but she has a massive vocabulary, some words she uses have meaning drift or are out of fashion, and having a knowledge of British history can really help in understanding her texts

This is not the time to brag about your reading level in high school, you pretentious, precocious, know-it-all, prick! If you actually want people to read the classics maybe try helping them instead of making them feel like idiots

Helpful things to say would be:

It is hard, though it tends to get better once you get used to her writing style

Try watching an adaptation first or using an audio book, which can help you follow the story

Feel free to ask for help if you have difficulty with a particular passage (and then don't be a dick about it)

Try Northanger Abbey first, the language there is a bit easier

Once I watched Reddit assist a reader all the way through Emma as they struggled with passages and it was beautiful! Please do not shame people for asking for help or struggling! The community will only get smaller. This is not the place to brag about your freaking reading level in your youth

[barleyo]

Frostbitten, Forbidden.

Hector Condicionado X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: another one shot with my favorite cretin. he's so lovely, i just want to eat him in one bite. hope you enjoy reading this!

Tags: dub-con, p in v, creampie, lots and lots and lots of dirty talk, sensory deprivation (eyesight)

Wordcount: 1.1k

Hector would do anything for you. He made it abundantly clear. From the moment you met him, or rather, from the moment he saw you, he knew he would make any sacrifice, any oblation, just to make you happy. No, he didn't want to make you happy—he wanted to keep you happy. A constant state of pleasure and contentment, all due to his own efforts. 

If you were tired, he would build you a bed frame with his bare hands. If you were bored, he would come up with a story to rival the telling of Shakespeare on the spot. Sad? Paw at his vent and tell him all about it. 

Fuck, he would slice his own palms and use the blood to write one of his novels for you if you wanted to do some light reading.

The only thing he couldn't do for you right now was turn up the heat. His only purpose, his one job, he simply couldn't do. Whether there was some sort of blockage in the air filters or a malfunctioning motor, nothing seemed to be working. 

Dead winter and not a single puff of air to ease your pain. 

It tore him up inside more than you would ever know, watching you toss and turn in bed, layering yourself in blankets that hardly helped. He tried for days to fix it himself. He borrowed tools from Tony, but hell if he knew what he was doing. Bang a wrench against the grate? Plead with the thermostat to co-operate? 

He felt like mold. Worse, actually. At least mold gave the world penicillin. What was he giving his beloved? Hypothermia? 

Your poor, freezing legs kicked under the thin covers in discomfort. He knew he had to do something, and he had an inkling of where his mind wanted to go, but it just seemed risky.

Then again, he'd take any risk to satisfy you. 

Your body was shaking inconsolably at this point. You were miserable. Days of straight ice and still air were starting to get to you. Truly, you were convinced it was colder outside your home than in it, but you wouldn't run the chance of finding out. You wanted nothing more than to drift into sleep, but it was too cold to even hope for a good night's rest. 

Just as you began to give up, you felt the bed dip beside you. That wasn't right. You lived alone. 

You tried to scream, but a quick hand covered your mouth. Was this the end? Jesus, why you?

"Hush, my love, it is I."

Oh. 

You slacked in Hector's grasp. You had heard his voice many times, and although it sounded a bit different outside of the vent, you still felt its comforting tones wash over you. That didn't change your confusion. Why was he out of the vent?

As if he could hear your thoughts clicking, he answered, "I couldn't stand to see you like this. Suffering, when I can do something about it."

You hummed against his palm in understanding. Your eyes flicked across the wall in front of you as you laid on your side. You wanted to flip over and see him. You tried to resist the urge, to respect his privacy, but your body acted on its own.

Hector quelled your movements sharply, firm hand turning your head to face the wall again. 

"You know I cannot have that." His calloused hand covered your eyes instead. He cupped his palm over them to keep you both literally and metaphorically in the dark about his appearances. "Don't focus on anything but my warmth. Let me help you, amor."

He hastily fidgeted with his belt, popping the buckle with overly eager hands. 

"Let me make everything up to you. Please."

"Don't you know what it does to me to have this power over you?" 

Hector had gotten much more into this than he thought he would. Obviously, a chance to get this close to you, to touch you, was heaven, but to have complete control?

This was the stuff of fantasy. 

Total domination, zero vulnerability. An opportunity to act on all the depraved things he had said to you in the vents without the fear of being judged for his looks? Sign him up.

"To have you at my mercy? To have all of your trust?" He bottomed out, pushing your face into your pillow. Gentle, as to not hurt his precious girl. "I've wanted this for so many moons. So much wasted time—god—if I knew it could be like this..."

You moaned a strangled little noise into the fluffy pillow. He hated not being able to hear the full extent of your pleasure, but there would be time for that another day.

"That's right," Hector said, voice syrupy and warm as he spoke to you, "I would've taken you much earlier."

His hands gripped your hips and forced them upwards. He dreamed about this. It nearly felt like deja vu, seeing as how he thought of bending you into these nasty positions many times before. It was almost too good to be true. 

"Maybe I would have snuck out of the wretched vent early in the morning to visit you." 

What a tease.

"Or maybe late at night. Late when you think nobody hears you, touching yourself in the dark." His hips stuttered. He didn't want to cum yet, not until you did. He wouldn't forgive himself if he messed up yet again. "I hear you. I hear every sound, every little noise you make. I turn the air up. Make it nice and loud, so nobody else gets to enjoy the show you put on."

Despite the slight uncomfortableness of the angle he put you in, you could see why he did it. He was hitting deep. Deep and purposeful. It was too much for you to handle, especially with his teasing. 

"If only you would have asked me for help. I would've been out in a heartbeat." 

A sexy, but flagrant lie. The sweet vent-dweller took to hiding deep in the vents when you masturbated, stroking himself recklessly while trying to silence his breathing. He was far too nervous to actually do anything about it and far too ashamed of eavesdropping. 

"Next time you need pleasure," he choked out, feeling your gummy walls flutter around him, "call for me."

If he had any shame in the current moment, he'd be horrified at how quickly he came after you. He was simply waiting for your body's permission before he blew.

"I'm always here for you, love."

[thatdeadaquarius]

About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".

Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.

If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM

I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.

Comment if any missed, please.

☆

FULL STOP.

THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO

You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever

and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)

can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??

id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)

also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭

the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy

(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)

(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)

dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.

endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)

the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it

speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.

Alhaitham.

sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,

Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature

and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))

(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)

On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)

Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular

like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol

(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)

Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,

but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol

(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)

Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao

(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)

(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)

ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao

Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol

Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)

Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,

Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions

THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO

Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao

and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)

You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa

from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed

(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)

Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol

that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.

Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not

(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )

oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹

◇

OMFG

ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-

the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO

like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)

STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)

for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP

IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA

that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀

(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)

Also yes.

Cyno is a fanboy.

(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)

(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)

…

(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :0

ok but real talk…

wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!

i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)

but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o

ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)

Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily

[domzoknem]

(EN) SIMS 4 Monster High Legacy Challenge!!!

Hi guys! First post on tumblr, kinda excited. For a long time I've been struggling with attempting new Sims 4 legacy challenges, as I couldn't find any that also go into newer packs. I've played Not So Berry a bunch of times (never actually finished lol), and it inspired me to go into a rabbithole of legacy challenges. Before we start, this challenge was inspired by a Sims 3 Monster High challenge made by simmingsamantha.tumblr.com. I took A LOT of inspiration (especially in the beggining) when making this challenge, so please, make sure to check them out. <3 This challenge was made inspired by my fav characters from Monster High. You don't need to make your sims look like the dolls, there's specific color suggestions but also - you don't need to follow them. Play the challenge the way YOU are going to enjoy it! If you're planning on picking up the challenge don't hesitate to share it and make sure to tag me so I can see! Tag: #domzoknem #domzoknemMHLC

NOW ONTO THE BASIC RULES! 1. Normal lifespan, 2. No cheats, unless stated otherwise, 3. I suggest using the color combos provided to make the game look more interesting, 4. Every generation is supposed to complete their career and aspiration (unless stated otherwise). 5. For two legacies I am using mods to expand the occult gameplay - they're going to be linked next to the generations. You don't have to use them.

GENERATION 1: Frankie Stein traits: clumsy, lovebug, insider career: Engineer -> Mechanical Branch aspiration: Reneissance sim (don't finish it) • Max the robotics and cross-stitching skills • Get 5 additional skills to level 5 • Master the Mechanical Branch of the Engineer career • Create a Servo and befriend them • Have 3 good friends and 2 best friends • Have a dog, name it "Watzit". Give it age down treats every time it becomes an elder, until you become an elder • Have 5 rats throughout your life and name them "Gwen, Gaga, Green day, Girlicious and Ghostface Killah" • Have only one kid via adoption! colors are black, white and neon blue

GENERATION 2: Draculaura traits: vegetarian, cheerful, romantic career: Actor aspiration: Soulmate

• Max the writing, acting and romance skills • Reach lvl 10 of your career • Be a good vampire! • Only eat plasma fruits - never dine on sims! • In school, join drama club, later cheer team • Marry your highschool sweetheart who is a werewolf • Play guitar and write romance novels • Have a black cat names "Count Fabulous", dress it in pink clothes • Have many kids colors are pink and black

GENERATION 3: Clawdeen Wolf traits: creative, non-commital, hot-headed career: Style Influencer -> Stylist aspiration: Admired Icon (teen), Romantic Explorer • Max the writing, painting and dancing skills • Master the Stylist Branch of the Style Influencer career • Be a werewolf and join a werewolf pack • Have a good relationship with your siblings • Tame the inner beast, aquire "Lunar Resistance" trait • Never marry! • Once a week go thrifting and clubbing • Have one kid only colors are purple and gold

GENERATION 4: Deuce Gorgon traits: active, bro, paranoid career: Athlete -> Pro Athlete aspiration: Party Animal

• Max the selvadoradian culture, cooking and fitness skills • Master the Pro Athlete Branch of Athletic career • Be human (cheat for that if needed) • Become a football team Captain • Have a basketball team • Always wear sunglasses (even to bed) • Complete the fossils collection • Date a snobish sim • Have a bad relationship with your mother, but a great one with your aunt and cousin, visit them often in Selvador • Have a pet rat named "Perseus" color is green

GENERATION 5: Lagoona Blue* traits: outgoing, child of the ocean, loves nature career: Diver aspiration: Beach Life

• Max charisma, wellness and mermaid skills* • Live in Sulani and become a mermaid! • Live on a houseboat or in a beach shack • Complete the seashells collection and collect postcards • Date a Kelpie* and have a bad relationship with their parents • Have a pet fish called "Neptuna" • Have a PlantSim baby (you can cheat - also mod, see Venus gen) • EXPLORE THE MERMAIDS EXPANDED MOD!* colora are sea blue, black and pink *I reccomend downloading the Mermaids Expanded Mod for better experience! LINK: https://www.patreon.com/posts/expanded-mod-2-0-78685209

GENERATION 6: Venus McFlytrap* traits: green fiend, party animal, recycling disciple career: Civil Designer -> Green Technician aspiration: Evo Innovator

• Max gardening, logic and herbalism skills • Master the Green Technician branch of the Civil Designer career • As a second aspiration choose Freelance Botanist or Friend of Nature (MOD)* • Be a PlantSim (you may cheat)* • Clean Sulani • Complete the Axolotl collection • Have many failed relationships due to you being a PlantSim, finally settle down with a loyal sim • Your home is full of recycled or fabricated stuff • Have an agressive looking dog named "Chewliah" • EXPLORE THE PLANTSIMS EXPANDED MOD!* colora are neon green with pink

*I reccomend downloading PlantSims Expanded Mod for better experience! LINK: https://www.patreon.com/posts/expanded-mod-112231972

GENERATION 7: Abbey Bominable traits: self-assured, adventurous, socially awkward career: do odd jobs only aspiration: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer

• Max rock climbing, skiing and snowboarding skills • Live in Mt. Komorebi and alwats go to festivals! • Always throw Christmas parties and invite family • Complete the simmies collection - have at least 1 gold simmy! • Have only one friend (besides your partner) • Marry a hot-headed sim from Sulani • have a fluffy pet called "Shiver" colors are pastel blue with white

GENERATION 8: Ghoulia Yelps traits: geek, genius, bookworm career: see below* aspiration: Goal Oriented (teen), Academic

• Max programming, video gaming and logic skills • Earn at least one University degree (of your chosing), that's your job!* earn most money by hacking • Have no friends until High School • Become a chess team captain! • Complete mySims trophies collection • Collect microscope and space prints • Always take part in GeekCon GamingTest and Hackathon • Die and get ressurected at any point of your life (that's how you become a zombie) colors are red, black and blue

GENERATION 9: Spectra Vondergeist traits: loner, kleptomaniac, nosy career: Social Media -> PR aspiration: drama llama (teen), seeker of secrets

• Max charisma, thanatology and medium skills • Max PR branch of Social Media career • Make friends ONLY by using Social Bunny • Collect all tarot cards • Become a ghost, complete your bucket list! • Become a landlord, spy on your renters and steal from them! • Romance Grim Reaper?! • Have a ghost pet called "Rhuen" • Have two (human) kids colors are purple and magenta

GENERATION 10: Cleo De Nile traits: snob, self-absorbed, materialistic career: Politician aspiration: World Famous Celebrity

• Max charisma, gemology and nectar making skills • Become the world leader and be 5 star famous! • Have a strained relationship with your sister • Find your soulmate in High School, break up after graduating. Date around as a young adult - never anything serious. Recconect as adults • Never decline an invitation • Throw a party every week, enjoy your life! • Complete the crystals collection • Have a polar opposite BFF • Have AS MANY sphinx cats as possible!!! colors are gold, blue and brown

That's it for the 10 generations legacy challenge! Excuse any spelling and grammar mistakes - it's really late when I'm finishing everything up. :)

Have fun! Domek

[momo-yandere-writings]

Hi I really LOVE your works literally so much😭, I just wanted to request, it may be weird, what about a witch reader who has social anxiety or just don't interacts with people, so when she would feel lonely she would bring her daily objects to life for company and turn them back into normal again, but one day one object manages to hide so reader isn't able to turn him back, and this object just feel absolute devotion to reader, bcs reader quite literally owns him

I haven’t really done a request in forever, but I absolutely adore this idea! Adore adore adore. Thank you so much, anon ❤️❤️

Yandere Head Canon: Prized Posession

Yandere Gargoyle x Fem Witch Reader

TW: Yandere content. You should know by now the content I write

You were often lonely in your cabin tucked away deep in the mountains. Your only living company was the animals that lived in the forest. Life was easier this way.

Humans terrified you due to their unpredictable and chaotic behavior. You appeared human for the most part, but you were a witch. And you never knew if they burn you at the stake if they found out, so you decided to live as far away from civilization as possible.

It did not help that you were incredibly, socially anxious, so you’d likely hiccup and reveal your identity anyways. So you decided stay in this forest in this old, abandoned gothic manor for the rest of your days.

You often wondered if the old master of this house with some kind of nobleman or maybe even a vampire. Regardless, this place was yours, and you could do with it whatever you pleased.

Yet, you were lonely. Painfully lonely. So you often used your magic to re-animate objects around your house for company.

It started off innocently. You would bring the teapot and the tea cups to life and they would be a happy little family as I talk with you about their mundane lives. You never realized how objects can hold memories… each object sharing memories with you until you ultimately returned them to their original form.

You began to grow bolder and bolder with the objects you brought to life until you finally stumbled across to gargoyle above the front door. It’s monstrous form crouched, menacingly above the manor to keep trespassers away. It’s large bat like wings spread out intimidatingly.

You decided to bring him to life. Your eyes widened when he flew down to stand before you. He was almost 7 feet tall and pure muscle. He was somewhat humanoid, but still obviously a monster. He stood on two legs his fingers and toes had sharp talons. His face elongated into the snout of a vampire bat.

His voice was deep, masculine, and gravely, like he had been a smoker for most of his life. Yet the gargoyle was very polite.

Out of all of the objects you brought to life, the gargoyle was the best company. He reminded you of those gentlemen written in romance novels with his manners and patient demeanor. It was only his monstrous appearance that startled you.

He would sit with you and stare at you with those piercing gray eyes, almost as if he was studying you like a specimen. He would hang on your every word, as if you were the most interesting creature in the world.

You weren’t used to such attention, especially not from the opposite gender. Yet he always made you feel special. Like a lady…

He would pull your chair out for you before he poured your tea, and then he would sweeten it exactly the way you preferred. You were both flattered and a bit frightened with how much knowledge he had of your habits…

The gargoyle would also dance with you under the moonlight, his hands were cold stone. Sometimes his hand would sneak around your waist and he’d pull you closer like you were his lover. A chuckle would always escape his lips when you’d gasp.

“ I want a name.” He whispered in your ear as he sat beside you as you read a book next to him in your study,

“A name?” You softly asked him. “Hmm… what about Grim?”

His face turned up into the slightest of smiles. His clawed hand took yours.

“Grim… my name is Grim.” He planted a kiss on the back of your hand. A shiver rolled up your spine from how cold he was. 

Since that day, Grim wouldn’t let you turn him back into a lifeless gargoyle. He would hide from you every time they broke.

“You’ll be lonely during the day if you don’t have somebody.” He would insist. Yet you couldn’t help the feeling that bubbled in your gut that something wasn’t right with him. Why was Grim so insistent on being by your side? Weren’t gargoyles always meant to be silent watchers over the home?

Sometimes, when you wake up from sleep, he would look through your spell books. Yet he didn’t even feel shame when you caught him. He would just give you that signature ghost of a smile as he held the book close to his chest.

“Good morning, mistress. I’m just studying these pages to see if I can find something to further deepen our bond.”

You hated confrontation, so you didn’t correct his behavior. A mistake that would haunt you.

A week later, and he became more and more animated. It began to scare you since he was no longer cold to the touch like a sculpture… no. He was warm like a body. He felt like a living creature.

You gulped when you felt a pulse. He wasn’t supposed to have one of those… this is why your instructors back in a day always warned you to never leave an object alive for too long. Objects could learn sentence and eventually become their own being… and now you had the full attention of a century old gargoyle. One that would never let you go.

He began to spin your body around in the daily waltz you always danced with him. His snout borrowed into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent greedily.

“I’m so happy I can finally smell your sweet scent, mistress. I was so lonely for a century in this manor. But you brought me to life. You listen to me and talk with me… I want to always be with you. Please… won’t you be mine as I am yours?”

You felt his bat like wings pull your body closer to his as he pressed his lips to the top of your head like a lover would. “I wish to be your one and only, mistress. I want to be your prize possession and you be mine. So won’t you stay with me?”

You sighed and wrapped your arms around him. It was not as if you had a choice. You had a responsibility now, and it was to keep this creature content. Even if you had to be his prized possession.

[jade-len]

Tired, 39 year old Shen Yuan is constantly nagged by his parents about giving them grandchildren. At a certain point, they were done with begging for him to marry a nice lady and just skipped to pleading for grandkids.

While the idea of having a child does make his heart yearn in a way that will definitely be dangerous if thought about for too long, he just doesn't have the time! No way! And what kind of father would he be, secretly reading cheesy, terrible webnovels in his free time? Which, mind you, is rare nowadays. He'd like to spend that valuable time getting rest via napping, thank you very much.

So what if Shen Yuan's heart swells when he sees his students run up to their parents with adorable, toothy grins? So what if he treats his class like they're his own children from time to time, spoiling them silly and proudly wearing the badge of "Best Teacher!" every year? So what if he wants a child to call his own!?

To love and care for a child, Shen Yuan has accepted that it would simply be a privilege he'll never experience.

...Think, think! Don't get so mopey now, Shen Yuan! Try to outweigh the baby fever with the pessimism you (slightly) obtained from your mean older brother!

How about this: There'll be no time for himself, none at all! Just more and more work. Come home from his job, dealing with a bunch of rowdy kids to find your own permanent little monster running around the house! At least he's getting paid for the first one!?

Shen Yuan had seen those videos and posts of kids accidentally exposing their parents embarrassing tendencies. Knowing him, his hypothetical child would have piles upon piles of blackmail on the Shen family's youngest son! Leave this old man alone, alright? Non-existent dumpling, theoretical baobei, please don't be so careless with your father's reputation...

(It would be careless too, to become a gaping hole in the heart of his child. Wouldn't it be selfish to have one, only to die a few years later?)

Over a decade ago, believe it or not, this esteemed Mr. Shen had gone by the shameless persona of "Peerless Cucumber" on the internet. He'd been an infamous anti-fan of the male power fantasy stallion web-novel series, Proud Immortal Demon Way and would leave scalding essay-length comments and posts ranting about its terrible plot point and flaming the author for his awful characterization and overall writing. That era of his life was when he actually had the time to stare into the digital sea of texts and write entire documentaries as replies for twelve hours straight. Fortunately or unfortunately, Shen Yuan doesn't have the same luxury as of now.

Despite the constant hate spewing from his younger self, present-day Shen Yuan is honestly very impressed by the constant thousand word updates every day. Honestly, looking back, how did that man accomplish that? Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky, dear author, are your hands okay? Youthful Shen Yuan's hands cramped all too much from simply typing up angry comments, now imagine PIDW's author??

Aaah, yes, the former hater Peerless Cucumber had long forgotten about PIDW. The author mysteriously disappeared one day, leaving Luo Binghe out on his own for more wives to dual cultivate with as Shen Yuan had realized his passion for literature (and critique!).

With a newfound, realized passion in his heart, Shen Yuan went off to actually pursue the college education his parents had very lovingly saved (and were ecstatic he was actually using) and became a literature teacher! NEET 21 year old Shen Yuan would be quite astonished to see this dignified Mr. Shen now, yes, very much so indeed.

Now, Shen Yuan.. doesn't quite remember PIDW all too well. He begrudgingly admits that it holds a dear and special place in his heart, but in all honesty, Shen Yuan can remember merely a handful of the wives and plot points. Ah, this is what happens when you actually get a life, interesting! Clap it up!

The most Shen Yuan remembers is the stallion novel character, Luo Binghe. His favorite, and - he really can’t stress this enough - an absolutely wasted potential of a character. Shen Yuan may be an older and wiser man who doesn't waste constant time on the internet like before, but that only means he actually has a degree to be critic. Serves all of those self-righteous, questioning commenters right from all those years ago! Look at him now!

Importantly however, Shen Yuan also remembers just how badly he wanted to coddle the protagonist, blackening or not, pre-abyss, post-abyss, even as a demonic tyrannic emperor! Can you believe that none of Luo Binghe's wives wanted to squeeze his cheeks and kiss his forehead!? Master Airplane, throw in some fluff, will you? Spare the poor boy from all of these succubi (metaphorically and literally) and let him take a nap! Ahhh, who really cares if Luo Binghe has a kingdom he needs to take over? Throw a blanket on him! Cranky, old Mr. Shen knows the feeling of being terribly overworked, so imagine how the protagonist feels!? Shen Yuan nods his head approvingly at the thought.

All of those mistresses flocking over to Luo Binghe... If Shen Yuan were his guardian, he would kick them all out without a second thought in place of good family bonding time.

Women, power, sex... really, what's needed is a loving father who'll coddle and take care of Binghe when no one else can!

So, Shen Yuan guesses he shouldn't be surprised when he wakes up in the body of Tianlang-jun.

[httpsserene]

Hello hello! How are you?

I wanted to request a Yuki Tsunoda one-shot before you close your inbox.

I was thinking of a GN!Driver!Reader (if possible) and Yuki going out for a stroll after the Japanese GP in which the reader got P1. Yuki is showing them around, local places to dine and such... Seeing them be so interested in his ramblings he starts to realize some stuff and decides to act on it!

Please and thank you! Have a nice day! ☀️

why don't we go there — 𝐲𝐭. 𝟐𝟐 yuki tsunoda x gn!driver!reader (reader's race/ethnicity/appearance is not described but, they're bi-poc < 3) 2.7k words. requested! by @anicega 🤎 oneshot & smau. yuki pov. fluff. feelings realization. pre-relationship. explicit language. alcohol consumption. flirtation. author's never been to suzuka, i apologize for anything that's incorrect or inaccurate.

synopsis: yuki's private tours include exclusive features, just for you.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. serene returns with a yuki fic/smau she was hoping to post in celebration of him being promoted to RB...have this as consolation instead. belated happy holidays and happy new year, 2025 will be all you wish it to be x

title inspo from one direction's why don't we go there (miss u liam🕊️) they were my #3 artist of 2024 and i'm not ashamed to admit that. when i read this request for the first time i instantly thought of this song and it just had the vibe of realizing you're crushing on somebody.

in other news, my 3k followers celly will serve as my v-day special this year and will last the entire month of february (this is how u properly celebrate black history month) !!! so, trying to finish writing the last of my requests so i can focus on doing the 3k celly requests :) more fics and info coming soon but in the meantime, enjoy reading xxx

⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

twitter • april 7th, 2024

Yuki watches your expression bloom with awe as you take in the endless sprawl of Sakura trees within Suzuka Flower Garden. Your hand grasps his forearm gently, tugging happily and exclaiming in delight as pink and white petals float through the sky. The flowers (while not as novel to him as they are to you; he’s seen many Sakura seasons growing up in Japan) make him feel nostalgic, memories of his youth—before F1, before karting—tingling somewhere at the back of his head. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Your mouth remains open in amazement until you end up sputtering around a mouthful of blossoms, and Yuki laughs. 

“Take a picture of me, please?” Yuki accepts your phone, not complaining as you make him take hundreds of photos before you find two or three that you deem acceptable. 

Yuki remains silent during your stroll underneath the trees. He allows you space to inhale the vanilla-like scent, to marvel at the image of graceful, falling petals. Every so often, the comfortable silence is interrupted by a passing fan sharing congratulations. They smile kindly while praising your first-place finish, but grin wildly while cheering for Yuki’s first home-race point. 

“She sounded happier about your point than she did about my win,” you remarked, not offended or annoyed, but charmed. 

Yuki denied the idea, but his pink cheeks undermined his credibility. The earlier silence is absent, but not missed as Yuki begins to explain the significance and traditions of cherry blossom season in Japan. 

“The sakura is our national flower. It symbolizes Spring—the time of renewal, life and death, beauty and violence, the fleeting nature of life. The blossoms only last for two weeks, which tells us to appreciate what we have,” Yuki relays, recalling what he was taught in elementary school verbatim.

“We have cherry blossom parties,” he grins at your envious gasp, “—called hanami. The translation is ‘watching blossoms.’ It can be just a walk like we’re doing now, but we also have picnics under the trees with family, friends, and even colleagues. There is also something called yozakura, which is doing the same thing but at night. My middle school held a hanami every year.”

You come to an abrupt start, turning to look at him with pleading eyes, “Let’s do a yozakura! Can’t we have dinner here? I want to see the trees at night—it must be beautiful! ”

Sympathetically, Yuki frowns, “We don’t have enough time to have dinner here if you still want to make it to the shrine before it closes.” His resolve weakens at the growing pouty downturn of your lips, “…I guess, we can have a snack here before leaving.”

He lets you drag him to the closest takoyaki cart, pleased to see the vendor’s patience as you order in choppy Japanese. While the food is being prepared, Yuki tasks you with finding the perfect tree to sit underneath while he stays near the cart.

“The two of you make a cute couple,” the vendor comments, smiling adoringly.

Yuki chokes on his exhale.

The two of you are far from resembling anything near a couple. Or, at least, Yuki thinks so. He thinks of you as a close friend but, do you see him as a friend? What if you view him as a colleague, or worse: just another annoying, backfield, competitor? Banishing his spiraling thoughts, Yuki considers there is no need to correct the kind lady. She doesn’t seem to recognize him. And, if she did follow Formula One, she would know you two aren’t a couple.

“Arigato gozaimasu,” he utters after a beat, reaching for his wallet as she begins plating the snacks.

She refuses to accept payment, ushering him to grab the small plates, “You’ve earned this meal; for your point and their race win—it is free.”

Yuki nearly exhausts himself expressing his gratitude to the vendor as he thanks her and deeply bows. When he finds you sitting underneath the chosen tree, he realizes he forgot to correct her assumption about his relationship status. Instantly, he forgets again, as you reach toward him to tuck a blossom behind his ear with a smile.

“Kawaii, Yuki-chan~,” you tease, grabbing your takoyaki dish off his stunned-still hands. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he flusters eventually, cheeks burning at the sounds of the word cute and his name leaving your mouth in quick succession. Even if the grammar is incorrect and it’s nothing more than a joke.

Yuki practically swallows his snack in one bite. He didn’t know he was terribly longing for authentic street food until his first bite. Not wanting to rush you to finish, he busies himself by searching for the most unblemished flower he can find on the ground.

Yuki waits for the perfect moment when you're distracted by brushing away the petals clinging to your clothing and tucks the near-perfect blossom he picked behind your ear.

“Now we match; kawaii desu~,” he chirps, his grin deceptively innocent. “Close your mouth, it would be a shame if you swallowed more petals.”

Yuki snorts at your offended gasp and dodges the soft punch you throw out as you both dispose of your trash and head back to the car. 

The drive to Tsubaki Grand Shrine is filled with anecdotes about his childhood mischief on these very streets you're passing by and questions about shrine etiquette. He didn’t realize you were so concerned about acting respectfully in the temple until you forced him to quiz you on appropriate manners and the important steps. Your dedication to having the perfect etiquette makes him think you’re one of the kindest people he’s ever known. It’s characteristic of you to be mindful of different cultures and kind overall; the fact that you willingly chose to celebrate a win by letting Yuki show you around Suzuka is telling. 

Yuki parks smoothly, and soothes your worries calmly, “You have no reason to panic. It sounds like you have it memorized—and if you forget anything, that’s what I’m here for. I would be a terrible tour guide if I let you fuck around and get cursed.”

With a healthy amount of side-eye, you quip, “I will write an extremely negative review and give you one star on Yelp. If you decide to fuck around, be ready to find out! Is this your intricate plan to get me cursed with bad luck so I don’t win another race this year?”

With an appalled expression, he earnestly denies, “If I had to pick any driver to win besides myself, I would pick you,” Yuki sees your eyes soften sweetly and he swallows nervously, needing to deflect the attention, “And, maybe Pierre. Only because he would be mad if he found out I chose you over him.”

The soft tinge of your stare remains even as you roll your eyes at him and giggle, “Of course! I could never compare to your lil’ boyfriend Pierre.”

He shrugs, the two of you exiting the car and making your way to the entrance. Feeling devious, he speaks loftily, “Hey. we both know there’s nothing little about Pierre.”

Yuki can admit he deserved to be deafened by your shriek of disgust. His ears continue to ring as you adamantly state that you don’t need any image of the Frenchman in your brain besides the view of his car shrinking away in your mirrors.

The distraction was effective, your earlier panic about proper manners is nowhere to be found as you confidently navigate purifying yourself at the chozuya, only looking toward Yuki once for reassurance. While you’re busy being awestruck by the architecture and natural beauty, Yuki carefully makes sure you don’t stray into the middle of the pathway and finds himself taking candid photos of you. He knows you’ll be disappointed that you forgot to take any, but he doesn’t want to interrupt your reverence. Hopefully, his idea of what makes a beautiful picture satisfies you. He pauses at the thought, wondering if it’s odd that you’re in the forefront of all the images. 

You’ve always been attractive—photogenic, to him.

The two of you reach the shrine and Yuki lets you pay your respects first. He offers you a handful of coins to choose from, reminding you that the amount doesn’t matter, any coin will do. You decided on a 5-yen coin; Yuki’s certain you’re unaware of the belief about that coin increasing your chances of finding a significant other. Although, he is aware that it’s an urban legend. It doesn’t stop his chest from tightening when he thinks about you in a relationship, with somebody who isn’t him. He tosses a 5-yen coin in the offering box to match.

He doesn’t believe in the myth, but if there’s any chance it helps him get together with you he’ll take it.

Burning incense at the temple comes without any more romantic realizations. Buying omamori, on the other hand, has Yuki thinking that what he feels for you is more than a simple crush. He forces himself to not stare at your selections and focuses on his purchases. An en-musubi (for finding love) for himself, and he’s chosen two for you: kotsu-anzen (for safe driving—he thinks it’s a little ironic) and katsumori (for success and victory—he knows you don’t need it).

On the way to dinner, Yuki notices your shuin and asks needlessly, “Is that to remind you of visiting?”

He can feel your gaze as he watches the road in front of him, hearing you ponder over your response, “Of visiting the shrine with you? Yes. Um, I don’t know if this is weird but, I bought you a couple of omamori, if that’s okay?”

Your tone is bashful and when he spares a glance, you avoid eye contact, fiddling with the shuin anxiously. 

Yuki sighs giddily, relieved, “It’s not weird because I bought you a couple too. We can exchange at the restaurant?”

He sees the shock on your face from the corner of his eye, as if you weren’t expecting him to do the same. It angers him slightly, his previous obliviousness. If you didn’t ask him to show you around tonight, he never would have been aware of his budding feelings for you, nor the feelings he thinks you already reciprocate.

You’re overwhelmed with the number of choices at the hole-in-the-wall sushi establishment Yuki chose for the night, eventually slamming the menu shut and asking him to order for you. He sits up straighter at the responsibility, rattling off the plates he’d like to the server, mindful of any preferences and dietary restrictions you have. 

A flight of sake samples is brought to your table, and Yuki finds it fitting that you enjoy the sweetest flavor because it compliments you. The alcohol loosens the tension gathered in him, helping him maintain a semblance of a regular conversation while he refrains from thinking about the shape of your lips, your attentive shining eyes, the length of your neck, your inquisitive questions as he recalls his childhood, the dip of your waist—Yuki doesn’t take another sip after he feels his eyes straying. He’s enamored with your undivided attention and it makes him feel hotter than he was in Qatar last year. 

He asks to see the omamori you’re gifting him before you can comment on the flush spanning from his cheeks down to his collar. Receiving kotsu-anzen (for road safety) and katsumori (for success and victory) from you only serves to make him redder. He thinks about asking for your hand in marriage when he reveals he’s bought you the same and your flush blooms to match his. 

With impeccable timing, the server begins to deliver the endless amount of plates Yuki ordered and the moment passes without being addressed. He almost whimpered aloud when your eyes fluttered shut at your first bite of food, moaning appreciatively at the taste.

Desperate to distract his hindbrain, he stutters, “W-What was I talking about before?”

Yuki feels like you know what he’s trying to hide, your eyes omniscient. He spots the corner of your lips tilting upward into a smirk, but it vanishes before he can be sure and you remind him, “You were talking about beating Natori in Motegi to win the F4 title in 2018.”

The rest of the meal remains lighthearted, intrigued chatter flowing around bites of food as you compare and contrast your junior careers and hometowns. It carries to the final stop Yuki brings you tonight, Isozu Beach. The vast, dark ocean is bathed in moonlight, the salty breeze cooling the air, and the coastline is lit up with buildings. The sound of waves crashing against the shore melts away as the heart-to-heart you’re sharing becomes his sole importance. He’s holding both pairs of your shoes in one hand, listening to your occasional giggles as the tide slips high enough to wet your feet and tickle your ankles. Your lilted and somewhat slurred speech tells Yuki you’re tipsy, but you’re insistent on simply linking your arm with his to prevent yourself from stumbling as you continue to walk the length of the shoreline. The stroll resumes and you slowly lean more of your weight into him; your head nestled on his arm, hand wrapped around his bicep, and Yuki feels you shiver at the next wind gust.

Like a gentleman, Yuki pulls off his sweater and helps you into it when your arms prove to be too clumsy to manage on their own without ending up stuck. Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure after you bury your nose into the collar of his sweater with a pleased hum. 

“Okay,” he says, sounding strangled, “Let’s get you back to the hotel—you’re more drunk than I thought.”

He suffers quietly during the short trip to the hotel you're staying in. The way you’re humming quietly as you play with the hem of his sweater has his grip tightening around the steering wheel, stopping him from reaching for the handbrake to halt the car and leaning over the console to kiss the tiny grin on your lips. Yuki escorts you to your room door, making sure you arrive safely.

He takes the keycard from you and unlocks the door after you fail at your first few attempts.

The door clicks open and Yuki speaks, “This was…nice. It’s the best celebration I have had in a while. We should do it again, sometime.”

You smile shyly, agreeing quietly, “I think so too. Thank you for showing me around.”

Nervously, Yuki’s voice wavers, “But, next time, I want it to be a date.”

“I think…I think I would like that,” your small smile grows into an unrestrained grin, pupils wide with infatuation.

He exhales roughly, the tight pressure in his chest lightening as it sounds like you like him, want him, too, “W-wait—really?”

Yuki looks on as you hold onto the door for stability as relieved-sounding laughter overwhelms you. Your amusement quiets when you straighten up to meet his eyes once more, probably seeing how he’s honestly shocked at your returned feelings.

“Yuki, babe—” Oh. He’s going to sing in the shower when he gets back to his hotel room. “—I tucked a cherry blossom behind your ear and called you kawaii. I know the 5-yen coin has that myth about relationships, and I bought an en-musubi omamori for myself because it’s for finding love. Obviously, Yuki—I would like to fall in love with you.”

Lost for words, and with his mouth gaping, stunned, he says, “...You do?”

You’re kind enough to spare him with a roll of your eyes, “I do.”

“I bought the en-musubi, too,” he reveals for no other reason than not knowing what to say.

“I know, babe,” Yuki’s heartbeat skips, “I saw it in the bag during the drive back here.”

“When is your flight scheduled?” He asks suddenly, a plan beginning to form in his mind.

“Tomorrow morning?” Your brows are furrowed in confusion at the change in topic, glancing down at your phone screen to confirm, “—Or this morning, I suppose, since it’s the next day already.”

He swallows, eager again all of a sudden, “Is it too soon if I ask you to cancel your flight and spend the rest of the week here with me?”

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, selenagomez and 652,113 others

yourinstagram missed my flight because i got lost in suzuka. not because i got hammered 👍🏽

view comments

user1 when i put "two f1 drivers start dating e/o" on my 2024 bingo card, i meant for it to be lestappen… happy for you though haha...

user2 WHERE HAVE YOU BEEEEN ???!!!

user3 BEDS EMPTY 😡 user4 NO NOTE 😵‍💫 user5 CAR GONE 😫 user2 i was going quoting rihanna but this works too LMAO

danielricciardo well well well

yourinstagram are YOU doing well 🤨 danielricciardo i’m not the one who told their team that they needed to reschedule their flight bc of food poisoning yukitsunoda0511 it’s me! i’m food poisoning 😁🙋🏻‍♂️ user6 YUKIII PLS 😭😭😭

user7 no shot u missed your flight when u told your team to be ready for it on the radio 🤡

yourinstagram do as i say, not as i do—is the phrase, i believe :) user7 okayyy mother gothel since u know what's best 😝

oscarpiastri hey you never gave yuki his sweater back, in case you forgot 😀

yourinstagram oscar please stfu i’m never telling u anything again landonorris hey don’t speak to osc like that…he’s just a boy :( yourinstagram lando u can stfu too? tf ??? these hands are rated e for everyone 🤺 user8 the threat of violence almost distracted me from the sweater exchange…keyword being almost

user9 no post about the race win and no tag for yuki on the last photo…

-yourinstagram hey i won the suzuka gp in case anybody forgot :p -yukitsunoda0511 hey i’m in the last photo in case anybody didn’t know :3

instagram • yukitsunoda0511

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, nicorosberg and 739,926 others

yukitsunoda0511 i do private tours 🇯🇵🍣⛩️🌸🌊🌖😚🥇

view comments

pierregasly no point in asking who took that last photo 😏

yukitsunoda0511 your mom did pierregasly yuki please yukitsunoda0511 is what your mom said last night user10 your honor, my client pleads: boy best friends

user11 that’s a lotttt of emojis yuki-san

user12 he graduated from the charles leclerc school of emoji usage with honors 🧑🏻‍🎓 charles_leclerc i am a very good teacher 😊 user12 chuck legleg responded i can die happily now

yourinstagram do you have any tours available in shanghai next week?

yukitsunoda0511 there’s a spot open at a discounted price! yourinstagram how much will it cost me 🥴🤧 yukitsunoda0511 five or six kisses should cover it :) yourinstagram payment is on its way rn 🏎️💨💨💨 user13 this could have been a private whatsapp message… user14 going to say taylor swift sucks on twitter so death comes faster

visacashapprb when you tell your driver to have some decorum and he decorates his caption instead 🫠🫠🫠

user15 WAITTT WHY WAS THIS ACTUALLY A FUNNY JOKE💀💀😭 user16 when you tell your driver to score a point and he decides to score a date as well 🫠🫠🫠 pierregasly when you tell your driver to stop harassing pierre and he cyber bullies him instead 🫠🫠🫠

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Writing Advice From Various Authors!

Writing fiction isn’t easy but it can be fun and rewarding once you get the hang of it. It’s helpful to look at the advice of popular authors to find your groove. Here are various writers and their advice on writing:

Ernest Hemingway

“Write drunk and edit sober?” I never said that. Do both drunk, wimp.

William S. Burroughs

Just goddamn write and don't damn censor yourself or you should be hanged like a twink what's set aflame as he’s hanged on rope made of the lies and deceits of the city, the cursed city, the lugubrious city.

Yukio Mishima

You cannot capture beauty in words. Instead, die very painfully on someone's office floor, in that alone there is beauty.

Stephen King

Write six pages a day and don’t cut anything, even if everyone says “Stephen, for the love of god don’t write that, the rest of the novel is great but please don’t include that, what are you thinking?”

Cormac McCarthy

do whatever you want dont even use punctuation then people will think youre brilliant for some reason for each writer is the writer of all writers who suffers the sins of all men

J.K. Rowling

It’s critical to teach tolerance, understanding, and compassion in your books. Then and only then will people believe you when you tell them to hate and harm the people you tell them to.

E.L. James

Put your pen to paper so hard it can poke past that thin membrane page and plunge hard into your imagination. Write with strokes gentle and firm that make the reader soaked in their own gratification and struggle to close the book back up again, so hard did they break its spine in the throws of their perusal.

Hunter S. Thompson

The hell are you asking son don’t you dare YOU GET OFF MY PROPERTY! I invited you? Maybe but it won’t make you less dead THIS IS THE TIME WHEN THE WORD IS MADE FLESH! Republican meat needs no salt.

Ari Bach

Writing fiction isn’t easy but it can be fun and rewarding once you get the hang of it. It’s helpful to look at the advice of popular authors to find your groove. Here are various writers and their advice on writing.

[gold-onthe-inside]

asylum

n. def. the protection granted by a state to someone who has left their home country as a political refugee

who? spencer reid (s7) x analyst!reader summary: a few months into dating spencer, you become peeved by penelope's boyfriend's constant presence at the apartment, and spencer offers a quick and easy solution. content warnings: none word count: 0.9k a/n: this was a quick little 1am fic, please enjoy

You liked your dates with Spencer, quiet little affairs, huddled in the corner of a cafe as you both swapped stories from work. You’d do your best to make your work sound more interesting than it was, and he’d do his best to limit the gore you were exposed to.

Finding quaint bookstores and hunting rare books, or buying secondhand books for the other to read. You’d always fancied more contemporary books, he liked the older classics, so trading meant expanding horizons. He had been horrified at your habit of annotating books for about five minutes, then telling you all about how Mark Twain used to do the same thing, writing in the margins of his books.

Going to foreign film festivals, Spencer whisper-translating the trickier dialogues for you, his hand laced in yours, smiling to himself when you’d nestle your head against his shoulder. This was the new normal. You were his girlfriend. He was your boyfriend.

After an awful week trying to catch a sadistic killer, Spencer was eager to spend Saturday curled up on the couch. He changed into his ‘old-man pyjamas’ as you liked to tease him, half-asleep on the couch with one of your novels propped up on his lap, when he heard you come through the front door using his spare key.

"I've gotta move out," you complained, dropping your bag on his coat stand and toeing off your sneakers before walking over to the couch. "I mean, seriously, Penelope's been bringing Kevin to the apartment almost every day, it's so weird," you said, flopping onto one end of the couch as he sat up.

“Tell me they’re not being loud,” Spencer said, grimacing a little.

"I don't want to find out," you groaned, collapsing onto his shoulder. "I really didn't think Kevin would be such a permanent fixture." It had been two weeks into dating that Spencer had found out about your distaste for Penelope’s boyfriend — knowing your best friend and roommate deserved better than some unkempt, disheveled, unhygienic (and to you, very unattractive) analyst.

"He's not that bad, is he?" Spencer asked, gently maneuvering himself to pull you onto his lap, and you let him, more than okay with physical intimacy.

“I mean, he makes her happy, I guess,” you said, pursing your lips as Spencer’s hand trailed over your arm. “And he can keep up with her intellectually, but… I dunno, I just feel like she’s settling for him.”

Spencer’s hand drifted down your side, absentmindedly rubbing your hip. “Settle is a strong word, don’t you think? I mean, she obviously loves him.”

You chewed your bottom lip. "I suppose," you agreed, reluctantly. "Either way, being around him is just... uncomfortable. And Penelope keeps telling me it's fine if I stay, but like... I don't wanna walk into the living room and see them making out... or worse." You shivered slightly at the thought of it.

Spencer chuckled, and his hand wandered back up to your midsection, massaging lightly. "Well, you are more than welcome to stay here," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "I have plenty of room."

You peered at him. "Just so I'm clear... Are you asking me to move in?"

There was only the slightest hesitancy in Spencer's voice when he finally responded. "If you wanted to. No pressure or anything, of course. But, yeah, I thought it might be nice. Living here, I mean."

You wet your lips, thinking about it. "Are you sure? I mean... we've only been dating a few months."

"What, you get sick of me already?," he asked, feigning hurt. This was a big deal that he was offering, and he desperately wanted you to say yes, but he wouldn't push the subject if you resisted. He was terrified of moving too fast.

"No! No, of course not, it's just... It's a big step, I don't want to rush into it," you said quickly. "Have you thought about it?"

Spencer smiled at your immediate denial. You didn’t have to reassure him so vehemently, but it was always nice to hear it nonetheless. He relaxed into the couch cushions a bit more, his hand moving over to play with your hair. "I have," he admitted. "I'm not necessarily in a rush, either, I just figured... it was an option."

You hummed, thinking about it. You did like the vibe of his apartment, and it was a lot closer to the station than Penelope’s place, and you always ended dates wishing you had more time with him. And you liked the mundanity of your dates, even the simplicity of lacing your hand through his while you both traipsed around Quantico’s greenery on a lunch break. The potential of moving in flashes before you — lazy Saturday mornings, breakfasts together, going to the farmer’s market on Sundays, sleeping with him more often than you did now.

“Okay,” you agreed, looking at him with a soft smile. “I wanna move in with you.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Spencer realized that you had said yes, and his shoulders slumped with relief, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah? You're sure?" His voice was hopeful.

"Positive," you murmured, kissing him gently. Spencer returned the gesture with fervor, pulling your body a little more on top of his, his hands moving from your sides to rest on your waist. He pulled away, breathless, and leaned his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes.

"I'm moving in," you repeated, breathlessly.

"You’re moving in," Spencer agreed, his eyes bright and excited.

[earlgreytea68]

I get that doing fic for free comes from a place of privilege that I have a job that makes me enough money to live on. I TOTALLY get that. What I want people to consider is that that's how jobs SHOULD be and there's a problem with the world generally that we all can't get that. And it's a bigger problem with the world that capitalism wants to reach its greasy tentacles into every moment of our lives (I was going to say every waking moment but I bet they'd find a way to sell ad space in our dreams if they could). Anyway I say it constantly but PLEASE WRITE FANFICTION BECAUSE IT'S FUN AND YOU ENJOY IT AND YOU LIKE IT.

I have been a published author. In fact I'm always supposed to be publishing more lol and I'm SO BAD at it because once I *have* to do it it becomes more like work and I don't want it to be work! I want to have fun! It's okay to have fun!!!!!! I remember when I published my very first novel and I was trying to make friends with the other novelists (allll of my best friends come from fandom, I thought of course these people would want to make friends!!) and I suggested we write Advent drabbles in December like I have been doing for fics forever, and their response was, "Why? Do you have data on how that spurs sales?" I was like, .....no, we would do it because it's fun?????? And then I was like, maybe publishing isn't for me lol

ANYWAY fandom has already become so much more commercialized than it used to be. I blame social media influencer culture with the way it's made everyone thinks everything you do with your time needs to be a side hustle that makes you money. In the old days nobody took a commission for fic. If someone wanted a particular fic, you wrote it and you gifted it to them. Wow, that makes me sound impossibly old but I promise you, kids, that's what we did. A lot. Really often. We'd be like "give me some prompts!" And then we'd fill the ones that inspired us. That was a very usual thing to do.

So I know we old people sound pathetic when we beg you to do something in your life just for fun and don't bother doing fandom if you don't enjoy it (and for God's sake stop loudly watching videos and having FaceTime conversations on your phones in public). It's okay. In twenty years I will accept your DMs on Tumblr being like, "egt, you were right, the things we do for fun to bring us joy are the most important things we will ever do in our lives." You, too, will get old like me.

[xetlynn]

Twilight Imagines- Jasper x Fem! Reader

I Am A Fool

[other imagines]

Requested by: @raviolisblog

Summary: Reader is a nurse in the military which is how she meets Jasper, they fall in love and plan a future together but unfortunately Jasper gets moved to another base and they are separated. Which is where he turns and disappears, his writing to Reader stops and she doesn’t understand why. Only to go into her own demise, turning into a vampire. She searches for her love for over a century.

"[Name]!?" A voice calls after me as I clean my medicine station. I turn around to see my only friend, Esther. Both of us started training to become military nurses at the same time. We stuck around each only each other in the beginning and then that's eventually how it stayed. "Yes?" I respond with a tiny smile upon my face.

"Did you hear the soldiers and us will be eating lunch together this week?" She asks, her eyes sparkling with joy. I only chuckle at her question, getting back to what I was doing before she came into the tent. "I did hear. It doesn't matter though, I'm stuck with cleaning duty this week." I sigh out, annoyed. I didn't really care either, getting to know the soldiers who treat us nurses like dirt. As if we aren't the ones who take care of them whenever they get injuries that range from the tiniest splinter to gunshot wounds.

"Oh, [Name], you have to join me. I'll help you get your work done." She grabs my hand, forcing me to look at her once again. I raise a brow at her. "Please, I would like to get to know them. Maybe... we won't be as lonely." She whispers, glancing around but there was no one else but us there.

I knew she had another motive though. She wanted to fall in love. It was something she always talked about. Wishful thinking. All because of these romance novels she read before becoming a nurse.

"I don't mind being lonely, Esther. Besides I don't think I could handle the stupidity that reeks off of those men." I take my hand back from her grasp. Finishing up my cleaning.

"[Name], I will only beg this of you for the rest of the week." She tells me in a sharp tone. "That's only 7 days. I shall live." I grin cheekily, sitting down as I write down things I need from the utility room.

"[Name], join me one day at least. Please." She pleads with me, dropping down in front of where I sit. I place my clipboard and pencil down. Staring at her for a moment before throwing my head back. "One day, Esther. That's all I give you. No more begging after that." I point a finger in her face. Her expression beams with happiness, she stands up from the ground, grabbing my hands once again. "Thank you, thank you. You will not regret it!" She squeals, kissing my hands as if I had saved her family member from death or something. I shake my head, with a tiny smile that I couldn't hide even if I tried. "I better not." I mutter in a joking voice.

And the day after that conversation is the day she chose for me to join her to lunch. Lunch with the army men that chatted with every woman that they could. Multiple coming up to us. I sat silent during most conversations. Esther enjoying every moment. I quietly ate my food. Observing how the nurses almost dumb themselves down for all the men that come their way. It was embarrassing. I felt embarrassment for them. Even though I know they couldn't care less how they're perceived unless it is by the said men.

I stand up abruptly to throw away my empty tray. My best friend doesn't even notice I had left. I shake my head with a small laugh. She would've been fine without me, if only she had known.

After throwing away my tray I stand there for a moment, deciding on if I should go back to my seat or go start on some cleaning. My thinking was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. I stand up straighter, mentally preparing myself for a horrible, short conversation. I turn to see a longer haired blond.

He looks familiar as well. I glance down to his empty tray. "Sorry, am I in your way?" I ask, stepping to the side. "Only a little bit." He gives me a curtly smile, his dimples forming immediately. "My apologies." I bow my head, I go to walk away but he clears his throat. "May I ask what your name is?" He speaks up once again. "I guess you may." I joke before answering him. "[Name] [Last Name]." I tell him.

"That's a beautiful name." He compliments me and I feel my face begin to heat up. I stammer for a moment, attempting to calm myself down before speaking. "Uh, thank you. I uh I better get going." I start to walk backwards bumping into a table. Apologizing to it like an idiot before hurrying away to start on cleaning tasks.

"I looked like a fool Esther!" I cry out, hiding my face in my hands. "I'm sure you didn't." She disagrees with me, I could tell she wasn't paying attention though. Her eyes looking off into the distance as we were supposed to be doing tasks for the day. Cleaning the sheets from the men's beds. "Oh but I did. I bumped into a table and said sorry to it as if it were a human." I ranted to her anyways. "Oh wow." She mumbles.

"I feel as though you do care for what I am saying." I stop my cleaning, staring at her. "Mhm." She hums, she was looking around, outside of the tent. I roll my eyes. "Who are you looking for, Esther Anne?" I question her loud enough to snap her out of it. Her eyes widen as she looks at me. "I'm not looking for anyone." She shakes her head. Lying to me. "Right. What did I just say moments ago?"

She stays silent in response and I begin to laugh. "Ugh, I'm sorry [Name]. I just, I've been talking to one of the soldiers. His name is Ryan. He's perfect. He walked me to the tent after lunch yesterday and then found me later in the day." She excitedly informs me, going back to looking out of the tent where the men walk by. "He told me he'd look for me today." She smiles brightly. "I'm sure he will." I assure her, going back to washing the sheets.

"Oh I hope so." She quietly says under her breath. "So the man you talked to yesterday, was he cute? He had to have been if you called yourself a fool over him." She changes the subject and I glare at her. "I did not call myself a fool over him. It was over me bumping into a table." I argue with her, upset that she would even say that. Acting stupid over a man. I make fun of women like that all the time. I wouldn't go doing it myself. "You didn't answer my question." She sings.

"What question?" I furrow my eyebrows. "Was he cute?" She asks with a smirk. "He was..." I think back to his looks. His hazel eyes, his dimples that appeared when he smiled or even talked a little bit. His blond hair that fit him perfectly. I shake the thoughts out of my head. "He was all right." I shrug my shoulders. She stares at me for a moment with a disbelieving expression. "Yeah, okay."

I don't have the energy to argue with her this time though. Moving on from the conversation as we put all the sheets into baskets, heading out of the tent to hang them up to dry.

Esther begins to talk about Ryan again, describing his features and physical beauty. I stayed quiet only responding when there was a pause of silence.

As we hung up the sheets I felt a couple of presences pop up behind us. I turn around to see the man from yesterday along with two others.

"What can we do you for?" I ask, wondering why they came up to us. Esther notices them and her eyes widen. "Oh Ryan, you found me." She grins, hooking up one last sheet before going up to him. "I told you I would." He smiles gently. He was on the shorter side but he genuinely matched her so well.

"This is Jasper, a friend of mine. And this is John." He introduces his friends. I stare at the ground as they talk. Esther shaking the other men's hands. "Nice to meet you two." She sweetly says. "You as well, I have to get going though. Just wanted to see the pretty girl he won't shut up about." John messes with Ryan before walking away. Ryan rubs the back of his neck embarrassed but Esther only grins ear to ear hearing that.

Suddenly she snaps out of her trance and pulls me forward. "This is [Name], she's my best friend I told you about." She tells the two men not knowing that Jasper is the man I told her about. "Pleasure to meet you." Ryan nods his head to me and I do the same. I look at Jasper who already has a smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, again." He says to me and I give a short smile. Esther has a shocked face but then smirks.

"I was going to show Ryan something on one of the trails, you two should get to know one another." Esther grabs the shorter man by the arm, beginning to walk away. "What? But- Our other chores!" I call after her. "We have time to finish them later." She smiles, turning away and ignoring my other protests.

I give up and turn to the man in front of me. "Hah, so... Jasper is your name." I awkwardly say. He chuckles, nodding his head. "Jasper Whitlock." He sticks his hand out. "Whitlock." I repeat quietly. It's familiar. I take his hand but I don't let go as I try to remember who he is.

"I've taken care of you before." I tell him suddenly. My grip lessening on his hand but I still don't let go. Not even realizing I'm doing it. "That is true. I got sick with a common cold." He says. I stare at him, scrunching my nose. I glance down to see our hands still holding and I let go quickly. "Right, glad to see you're feeling better." I grab the baskets from the ground, stacking them so it's easier to carry.

"Thank you, let me help you." He begins to take the baskets from my hands and surprisingly I let him. We go to the tent to put the baskets away. "Thank you." I say softly, he smiles. His dimples forming even more. I feel my body stiffen and I don't know what to talk about with him.

"Would you want to join me on a stroll in town?" He asks me suddenly and I go to talk but he speaks up once again. "Not today, maybe during the weekend. When you've finished your tasks." He finishes, he seemed nervous and I still stay silent. Not knowing how to respond without stuttering or making myself look like an idiot in front of this beautiful man. "You don't have to, it would be as friends." He assures me, the word friends disappoints me though. I smile. "I would love to join you." I begin to walk out of the tent. "Even if it was more than friends." I tell him.

"I have to go to my higher up, maybe I will see you in the evening?" I ask him, turning to look at him as he still stood in the tent. "Maybe I will look forward to it." He responds and I break out into a smile before walking away.

Days pass, Esther has been busy with Ryan along with her duties so we haven't seen each other much. Only before we go to bed and attempt to catch each other up on everything that has been happening. Jasper comes to find me every day. Even for a short minute it's only to talk to me. Making sure I'm still up for our stroll on Saturday evening, today. He will be seeing me outside of my uniform. Unfortunately he will still be in his. I don't mind it though, I rather enjoy him in it.

I finish up with my tasks for the day, changing into a frilly black skirt and a light pink long sleeved shirt. Tucking it into the skirt. I go to the mirror, checking out the outfit before putting my boots on. It's rare I ever wear these types of clothes. Only being in my uniform lately. It was a nice change. My hair was curled as normal, styled in a certain way that was a little different than what I do for work.

I was happy with how I looked. I head out of the bedrooms and go to the dining hall where he told me to meet him. To my surprise he was already standing there. He didn't notice me walking up to him so I try to stay quiet before loudly saying "boo!" His body jolts up and he looks up at me. "Oh my goodness." He clutches his chest. I laugh, apologizing. "That was too good!" I clap my hands together.

"That was good, but just know there will be payback." He tells me and I smile. "Oh really?" We begin to walk. "Mhm, you'll never expect it." He looks ahead, leading me to the horse stables.

We take his horse into town, I hold onto him the whole time. Maybe more than I have to but I don't hear him complaining.

Once he gets to a spot to tie the horse to I let go of him so he can get down. I watch as he ties the reins to a pole. He pets the animal before his attention goes to me. He lifts his hand and I take it. I swing my leg over and make sure my skirt won't slide up.

I then panic on how I'm going to get down. "I have never really been on a horse before." I tell him suddenly. He furrows his brows. "You got on with ease though?" He reminds me and I smile awkwardly. "I just watched how you get up and I hoped for the best." I tell him and he begins to laugh.

"Just jump down." He tells me and I look at the ground and it feels higher up than it actually is. "I'm a little fearful, Whitlock." I admit to him. "I got you darlin, I promise." He says, but it's still not enough. "What if my skirt rides up?" I pat down the fabric that I am wearing.

"I won't let that happen." He assures me and I sigh out. I was still holding his hand. "here." He lets go of my hand and then both of his hands grab my waist. "Jump off, I got you." He nods for me to do it and I grimace. I close my eyes and then do as told. I let out a little noise but he puts me down gently and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"See, nothing to worry about when I'm around." He nudges me and I smile. "Sorry about that." I frown, holding my hands together. "You're quite alright, darlin. It was a cute moment I will cherish." He takes my arm and we begin to walk. "Darlin a new name for me?" I tease him, moving closer to him as I hold his arm. I look up at him to see him smiling. "If you'd like it to be." He looks down at me in the corner of his eye instead of actually turning his head.

"I don't mind it." I answer, looking forward.

The rest of the day we talked, he bought me little treats throughout the stroll. Telling me it's to support local businesses.

It was a wonderful date that I want to do for the rest of my life. Especially with Jasper. It has only been a week and I think I've fallen for him. In a way that's almost painful when we're apart. I take in every minute we have together.

Weeks pass and it seems we only fall for one another harder than the day before. Our lips haven't even locked but the passion between us is something I've never felt before. We talk of the future. The ending of the war and building a life together.

At least that's what we did until he got told he was leaving to another base. He ran immediately to me to tell me. "Maybe I can leave too, you guys will need nurses." I say in a hopeful tone but he frowns. "I was told they already had their nurses at that base." He was gripping my hand as if I would go away. "I can still ask. We have to be positive." My chest began to move up and down. Panicking. You never know what is to happen in the war.

If this will be our last moments together. I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing Jasper ever again. "Hey, my darlin. It's okay. It's okay." He places a hand on my cheek trying to soothe my thoughts away. I lean into his hand.

"I will write to you every day." I tell him, letting go of his hand to pull him into an embrace. His arms go around me, holding my waist tightly. "As I will do the same." He whispers, kissing the top of my head. We let go and I stare at his lips. One of his hands was still on my waist.

A tear fell from my eye. "Don't cry, darlin." He kisses it away. "I'm not." I lie.

He lets out a small, pain filled laugh. "Can I kiss you?" I ask. "You don't have to ask, my love." He tells me and I put my hand on the back of his neck as I pull him into a kiss. The touch of our lips leaves shivers down my spine. Igniting a fire within me and I never want it to go out.

I never wanted this feeling to go. Even when he left, I saved every letter he sent me. I waited for every letter to come. Writing back immediately.

Then a week passed where I got nothing. Then it turned to two weeks. I couldn't sleep, knowing there was something wrong. He wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn't stop writing to me for no reason. His last letter filled with love and affection. He couldn't have just lost that feeling with me. Something had to have happened. I ran to Ryan not knowing who else to go to.

Esther and him were eating together when I showed up. I looked like a mess. My hair hasn't been kept together, my clothing wasn't as neat as usual. The eye bags under my eyes showing how much sleep I haven't been getting. "Have you heard from him?" My voice was raspy and hoarse. Ryan's eyes faltered and I didn't know what that could mean. Anxiety filled me.

"Have you heard from him, Ryan?" I repeat myself. Esther stared at me sadly. Did she know something I didn't? Did everyone know something I didn't? "Ryan?" I ask.

"They can't find him." He tells me and my body straightens. "What do you mean they can't find him?" I ask.

"He was doing a stroll, he was by himself and hours passed. He never showed back up. I just got word from my Lieutenant. He hasn't been seen for two weeks. His horse came back but not him." He explains to me and I begin to feel dizzy. I grip on the wall beside me. "He could be found. They can find him." I say, it was mainly to myself. I started to spiral. Clutching my chest. "He might've um, he must've gotten lost. The horse possibly flung him off." I say to the two in front of me. "Running off without him, you know? Right?" Eyes filled my eyes as I look to them for reassurance but their faces don't give me what I wanted.

I lose it and begin to sob. Seconds later arms hold onto me. It was Esther. She tried to give me comforting words but nothing works. I soak her shirt as I cry.

I cry only to feel numb. The numbness growing as more weeks pass and nothing new is brought to Ryan or to I. He's officially a missing soldier. They want to call him a dead man but I won't let them. I won't let anyone call him a dead man. He's alive. I know it. He can't be dead.

I ended up getting moved to a new base, Esther and Ryan also were coming. There's been cases of animal attacks here. Draining blood from the bodies. It's incredibly strange. Us nurses are working hours on end, even going into the next day. Helping the villages around the base as we've been instructed to do.

I was told to go to one with Esther, and two other nurses. A few soldiers were guarding the village, Ryan was luckily one of them for Esther. They were the lucky couple. Somehow always getting put together. I was envious. Wishing that could've been Jasper and I and we never would've been separated. He never would've gone missing.

It was a late night and Esther and I were working the shift tonight. Working with children that had lost their parents. I was tired, holding a toddler in my arms. Esther was reading a story to the older children to get them to bed. The toddler I held was fast asleep. His slowed breathing only made my tiredness worse.

And eventually I accidentally fell asleep.

Waking up to the sounds of screaming outside of the tent. My eyes shot open, the toddler I once had in my arms was now in a crib beside me. I look around to find Esther but I couldn't see her. I count to make sure all the children were there and it seemed like one was missing. Maybe they were going to an outhouse is what I thought to calm myself but when I remember I woke up to screaming I go to the exit of the tent. Hearing another scream.

I look back to the sleeping children. None of them even flinching to the scream. I poke my head outside of the tent and see something run in front of me. I gasp, getting back into the tent.

I back away not knowing what to do. It was fast. Faster than a human, faster than any animal I've ever seen.

I look around and find a metal stick that's to control fires. I step outside of the tent. Hearing a scream again. This time I realize it's Esther's screams. A child crying with it. My heart begins to race and I run towards the sound. Staying quiet.

I look up to see smoke, along with light further in the village. I grip the stick and head towards the fire. It was a stupid idea but I couldn't just let Esther die. Along with that poor child.

As I get closer I see Esther holding the child. There were people standing around her and she was cornered. I didn't know what to do. I stood there like a coward. Like a fool.

I am a fool.

I didn't even notice the man that stood behind me. The man who grabs me, covering my mouth as he bites into my neck. I let out a muffled scream. I feel my blood draining from my body but it stops and my body drops to the ground. I see a woman attacking the man who just bite me.

I feel immense pain growing in my neck. I sweat from the pain. I groan, gritting my teeth together. The woman comes over to me and I stare at her in fear. Her eyes were red and she wasn't a woman. She seemed to be a teenager. "Who-" I grunt trying to speak but she just shushes me. It seems like she's about to kill me but a man shows up behind her. "Hold." He says.

"She's a strong one." His eyes were wide as he stares at me. I sit myself up, leaning on the wall, still breathing heavily from the pain. "Who are you!?" I scream out, still holding my neck. The pain growing throughout my body.

"Shh." He puts a finger to his lips. I glare at him, confused on why they are shushing me. I'm confused on why a bite from a man is hurting so badly. Burning my insides.

"What is happening to me?" I beg to know.

I don't get an answer though. I don't get an answer, I never do. Three days of agonizing pain. They left me in an empty village that was killed off.

I sat against a wall the entire time. The only sight I see is the body of the child I never saved along with Esther who still held that child. Even while dying. And the man that attack me with no head beside me.

The sky changing was the only thing that kept me going. Begging that this would pain end eventually.

And when it did I stood up. A strong smell filling my nose. The smell of blood but stronger than usual. I felt feral.

I walk towards the smell, it was coming from the children's tent, the one Esther and I were in three days ago. The night it happened.

I enter inside, seeing the bodies of the dead children. I cover my mouth and nose, smelling their blood. Making me weirdly hungry. I felt disgusted with myself. I felt like I was stopping myself from doing something I know I shouldn't do.

I hear a small voice and I groan out, the feeling getting stronger. My eyes shoot around the tent needing to know where it's coming from. I see movement beside a crib and I go over to it in a fast motion I didn't even know I could make. I see a woman lying there. I worked with her. She's one of the nurses. She seems to be waking up. Her eyes open and look at me as I stand over her. "[Name]?" She mumbles and I just stare at her not knowing what to do but I know that my urges are to suck on the blood from inside her body.

"[Name] are you okay?" She asks me, starting to sit up, my nostrils flair. I start to breathe out of my nose heavily. "You're acting weird." She holds her head and I try to back up but it feels like my body is stuck in place. I see blood from the side of her forehead.

She goes to speak to me again but in a quick motion I'm biting on her neck and draining the blood from her body. She tries to scream but she can't. I feel someone behind me but I don't care enough in this moment as I feel like I've been starving.

Hands wrap around my body and pull me away from the woman that I can't remember the name of. "You've drained her completely, hun." A gentle voice tells me and I glance up to see a blond man with golden eyes staring back at me. "Who are you?" I push him away from me, he grunts but doesn't seem to be surprised by my response.

"My name is Carlisle. I just want to help you." He tells me but I hold myself, backing away from him. "Help me with what?"

"Don't you want to know what you are? Why you just fed off of a human?" He questions me and I glance from him over to the woman's body on the ground.

"You're a vampire. You're not human anymore." He informs me. I snort out a laugh. "Those are myths." I shake my head.

They were myths, but I guess they actually exist. Carlisle told me everything I needed to know. He taught me how to control my hungry and only go after animals. Controlling my thirst around humans.

We learned I have an ability. He told me how some have them. I turned out to be one of them. I can make people forget what they're thinking about in that current moment. Make them forget things that happened ten minutes ago and replace their thoughts and memories with something different. We found it out when we were caught eating off an animal by a hunter. We didn't want to kill him and I somehow focused on him and I was begging him to forget everything. Somehow it worked.

Now we've been practicing on random people.

Carlisle has truly been the biggest help in this whole weird thing.

I told him I wasn't staying with him though. I needed to find what happened to Jasper. I told him about Jasper, about how he was the love of my life. I never told him his name though. I wanted to keep my human life private. It was nothing against the man that saved me but I just wanted to keep certain things to myself. And Jasper was mine. He wasn't for everyone to know about.

And after both Carlisle and I knew we were okay on our own we went separate ways but I told him if he ever needed me I'll be in this area. I gave him my name so he can always look me up. I'd be there to help him with whatever it was.

I spent decades, over a century trying to find anything about Jasper but it was like he disappeared off the face of the earth. No one saw him. I couldn't find anything about him. Nothing about his death. I searched everywhere. Even going into oceans to see if his body was dropped in them. Lakes, the desserts around to see if he was in small areas no one could find him.

Nothing. No trace.

It was the 2000's and still nothing. I had given up at one point. Once it hit 1982. It had been over 110 years since my love went missing. A part of me hoped he became what I have. The selfish part of me. The other hopes he's in heaven, getting everything good that he deserves.

I still traveled, hanging out with random covens for a couple years before moving onto the next thing. That's how it's been for years.

Until I got a call from Carlisle Cullen. The man who saved me from damnation. "Have you heard what's happening in Seattle?" Was the first words out of his mouth. "Yeah, I thought the Volturi would've taken care of it by now." I answer him, crossing my arms as I stood outside of an alley in Chicago Illinois.

"We thought so too. But it looks like they're coming to Forks. We have a human they're after." He tells me and I furrow my eyebrows confused on why they would be protecting some random human. "I'll explain when you get here. We need your help." He says and I stiffen, licking my teeth.

"I'll be there in a couple hours." I tell him before hanging up the phone. He didn't need to explain anything. I'd help him with whatever he asks me to do. Even if it was against my morals. It's Carlisle.

And then I was on my way to Forks, Washington.

I pull up to a beautiful house, lots of glass, doesn't really hide anything. It fits Carlisle though. And his wife Esme. I met her once when I bumped into Carlisle. She had just turned. She was a lovely lady. Only got a few days to know her though.

She matched him perfectly.

I park my car and get out, Carlisle, two men, Esme and the human girl were standing on the porch. I raise my eyebrows. "A welcome party, oh you shouldn't have, Carlisle and Esme." I comment cheekily, walking towards them.

"Anything for you [Name]." Esme smiles to me and I grin back to her. "This the human girl we're fighting newborn vampires for?" I cross my arms,  observing the brunette in front for me. She was nervous but she was observing me back. One of the boys pushes her behind him.

"Who are you?" I ask with a smirk. "This is Edward. That's Bella, his girlfriend." Carlisle explains to me. "And this is Emmett." Esme points over to the other boy. "Got yourself a little family now, cute." I hum quietly.

"There's others as well. Let's go introduce you." Carlisle says and they lead me into the house. There were three other people standing in the living room. A man and two women. We get closer and the three turn to me. My eyes widen when I see the mans face. He looked exactly like Jasper...

I walk closer to him. Eyebrows scrunched together. It looked like he recognized me as well. "Jasper Whitlock?" I say the name that almost seemed foreign at this point. "Darlin?" He smiles back and my face falls before pulling him into my arms rather harshly.

"Jasper Whitlock!" I squeal as he lifts me up, I grab his face kissing him aggressively, my legs wrapping around his waist.

"I thought I'd lost you!" I cry out, no tears coming out of course. All he does is hum in response, kissing me once again. "You have been with Carlisle Cullen for how long!?" I jump down asking him. "Since 1953." He tells me and I close my eyes putting my head down.

"I've been searching oceans for you for over a century and a half." I tell him. "And you've been with one of my closest allies for 50 of those years." I whisper. "I could've been with you for 50 years." I lay my head on Jasper's chest.

I then turn to everyone who was just watching the scene confused. Except for Carlisle.

He was the only one either of us told each other about and he didn't even know it was about one another. I didn't let go of Jasper the entire time they told me about what was happening.

Having to reconcile with my lover after the explanation. I got introduced to Rosalie and Alice. Alice was a nice girl, she was super excited for Jasper and I. She kept going on and on about how amazing it was until Carlisle pulled her away so we could catch up on everything.

And when it was just the two of us, I look at him. My eyes piercing into his. "I never thought I'd see you again." He tells me earnestly. "Where did you go?" I ask, my voice breaking slightly. "I stopped getting letters, no one could find you." I tell him and he frowns.

He explains how a vampire named Maria turned him, forcing him to be her right hand man. He told me about his abilities which led me to tell him about mine. About how and when I turned. I told him about Esther and Ryans horrible fate.

How for the past century I literally searched bodies of water for him along with the desert he disappeared at. He told me how he heard about the base attack and heard I was there. He thought I was dead this whole time.

"I am never leaving your side ever again." I tell him with a serious expression.

"I would never want you to." He pulls me onto his lap, kissing me on my lips.

"I love you, I'm such a fool for not calling out your name to Carlisle." I lay my forehead on his.

He kisses me once more. “I am a fool as well, darlin.”

—————————

This was 6000 words. 😕

It took me almost all day.

I hope you enjoyed is all I’m going to say right now.

[bethanydelleman]

idk if you are familiar with little women but your most recent post about the treatment of women throughout history reminded me of the beef I have with 2019 little women.

by that point we're in the victorian era and things are slowly getting better for women.

in the book jo manages to become a very successful writer and amy considers becoming an art teacher *if* she doesn't reach fame as an artist.

also by the very end of the entire saga (set around the very end of the 19th century) there are two female characters who want to become a doctor and an actress, and they are fully supported by everyone! there's also a conversation between a bunch of young characters where the male characters are totally pro women's rights and defend the girls'rights.

meanwhile the 2019 movie has jo not being taken seriously as a writer because of her gender while the whole conflict was about money and fame in the novel.

same for amy who has a whole speech about marriage being an economic proposition and women essentially not being able to do anything else to support themselves (when she had a back up job plan in the book.)

like that wouldn't be true anymore, the fact that two of the main characters can write & make art is proof of that.

all this to say how anachronistic this kind of view is, and how making such blank statements about a topic as broad and various as this one is never going to end up well.

like yes women did struggle! we already made that point, but how can you analyze that specific struggle if you don't understand the context behind it? because a woman in the victorian era would not have the same struggle as a regency woman, and let alone a 17/15th century woman.

also people always forget that class plays a huge role in this, because the gentry wasn't expected to work regardless of gender, and working class women had all the disadvantages of being a woman without the luxuries that nobility offered.

I used lw as an example because I know the saga by heart and those scenes always left a sour taste in my mouth, but I'm sure there are other examples, and I just wanted to add my own opinion and back you by explaining why you're right.

This question is in response to this post.

I am not super familiar with Little Women personally (I've read it but a long time ago) and I haven't watched any adaptations, so I'm not sure about these scenes. I know @thatscarletflycatcher has a beef with this movie so maybe she shares your frustrations. I agree with the frustrations as you have presented them here.

Things were looking up in the Victorian era, and women in the lower classes had less of an imperative to marry, but the Brontë sisters still published under male pseudonyms (though that was in the UK), so I'm not sure it was entirely normal or accepted for women to write. Just looked it up, even Louisa May Alcott herself used a pen name for her "sensational" works.

If anyone is more familiar with the novel series and 2019 adaptation, please chime in!

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || william killick x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || your husband sometimes gets carried away with his devotion to you...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3.7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || noncon/heavy dubcon smut (18+ only!!! rough sex, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, praise and degradation, dark but the reader is lowkey into it lmaooo), jealousy and possessiveness, yandere vibes?, gaslighting/manipulation, established relationship, alcohol consumption

"Heavens, you look stunning!" Gordon announced when he saw you, opening his arms wide as an invitation for an embrace.  You only went in for a quick hug, but he grabbed you tight and kissed the top of your head as you laughed delightfully.  "Doesn't she look ravishing?  Don't I have excellent taste?"

The other ladies nearby nodded in agreement, hanging off of him like they tended to.  That was the way Gordon was: magnetic, for his personality just as much as his looks.  Blonde curls with light brown eyes and that megawatt smile… as long as you'd known him, he'd never had trouble with ladies— he just made trouble for them.

"Aren't I the greatest literary agent you ever had?" he asked you, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're the only I've ever had," you reminded him.  "You represented me when I was a teenage girl trying to sell my assignments from secondary school!"

"Yes, so I win by default," he decided with a big kiss to your cheek that made you scrunch up your nose.

"But that makes you the worst I ever had, too, doesn't it?" you noticed as Gordon relaxed his embrace to just an arm around your waist.

"See?" he prompted the nearby women, "Didn't I tell you?  Can't get anything past this one— sharp as a whip, she is—"

As you shrugged in dismissal of the praise, you looked around the room in awe of all Gordon had done for you now.  He had a taste for the extravagant, clearly; truth be told, it was nothing like you'd pictured it, and nothing like what you'd asked him for when he insisted on throwing a party.

"So, please, drink up, be merry, all of that," Gordon instructed his ladies, motioning out towards the crowded room, "get properly sloppy if you must— all in honour of this lovely woman right here… a genius of writing, and one of my longest and dearest friends."

As they departed in search of free drinks, you turned to Gordon with a nervous frown.  "I'm not sure this is really all for me, Gordy," you sighed.

"Of course it is," he chuckled heartily, "I told you I'd throw something to celebrate another year of us working together— I wanted to have a gala for your novel's first publishing, but you were too busy on the honeymoon then—"

You smiled just at the mention of your honeymoon.

"All these people, doll, they're here for you," Gordon assured.

"The people, maybe; but the evening wear, the drinks, the music, the glamour?  That's for you, isn't it?" you smirked.

But before he could respond to the accusation, his eyes fell somewhere at the other end of the room, and he turned you to look the same way.  "Speaking of people here for you…" he trailed off.

You perked up when you saw William, slipping through the crowds of people, already approaching you with his hat tucked under his arm.

"You came!" you squealed with excitement as you jumped towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.  "Oh, dear," you sighed when you saw that you'd printed berry-red lipstick on his cheek, starting to wipe it off with your fingers.

"I couldn't miss it, of course," he smiled at you, his voice so soft you barely heard it over the hustle and bustle of the party.

"They shouldn't have let you in," Gordon said, making you both look back at him.  "It's black tie only, you know."

William smiled slightly with his lips pressed together.  "He's only joking," you realised with an awkward mumble.

"The uniform seemed to go over alright," William replied, sticking his hand out towards Gordon for a shake.

"Oh, don't be so formal," Gordon laughed as he yanked William into rough side-hug.  "We know each other, don't we?"

"Sort of," William answered under his breath as Gordon put a heavy hand— adorned with golden decorative rings— on his shoulder.  

"Though I've half a mind to rough you up for convincing my star author to publish her next book under her married name," Gordon continued with a haughty laugh.  "She's already so established with the maiden name!"

"I didn't convince her of anything, I only married her," William defended.  

"Never thought you'd manage to tie this one down," Gordon smirked, "independent as she is."

"She didn't put up too much of a fight," William winked at you, and you felt a little flushed as you blinked quickly.

Apparently tired with that line of conversation, Gordon stood beside you and flipped it back to the real topic of the evening: your writing.

“She’s quite a prodigy!” Gordon exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping an arm around you, then.  “You’ve read what she writes, haven't you?”

“Some of it,” William admitted with a nervous laugh, looking down for a moment.  “The rest is too sad for me, I’m afraid.”

“Her latest is a masterpiece,” Gordon assured.  “Forbidden love, secrets, affairs—”

“Sordid stuff,” William frowned, shaking his head.

“Sells, though,” Gordon winked.  “Men and women— we’re even selling copies in America!”

William only nodded, not seeming too convinced, and you deflated slightly as you reached out for your husband’s hand.  “Aren’t you proud of me?” you asked, sounding much more pathetic than you meant to.

“Of course, darling,” he smiled at you, “always.”

“You don’t mind if I borrow your lovely wife again, do you?” Gordon beamed.  “There’s some people over there she should meet— they might just sponsor the tour for her next novel.”

“All these book tours, I feel as if she’s hardly ever home,” William sighed.

“Well, we’ve got to keep her on the tours,” Gordon chuckled, “or that pretty face will go to waste!”

William’s jaw tightened as he nodded curtly in agreement, and you felt nervousness turning in your stomach.

“You should have a drink, soldier,” Gordon offered to lighten the obvious tension, handing William a wide glass of champagne.

He patted your husband a little too roughly on the back as he drank, before dragging you off to talk to some publishers or whatever— you glanced over to try to see your husband at the bar, hoping to catch him smiling at you, but you only caught his icy stare over the edge of his glass.

~

Enough liquor loosened you both up, and you managed to enjoy the party well into the hours of the night— it was almost one in the morning when you got home, yet you had a shocking amount of energy still coursing through you as you started to undress at the vanity.  It must’ve been all the people there, and knowing they were all celebrating you; it was electrifying, even as someone who preferred to be cooped up alone with her typewriter.

William leaned against the bedroom doorway as you shed your heels and stockings, then unpinned your hair.  When you saw him skulking on the reflection, you smirked to yourself, taking out one of your earrings.

“What’s the matter, love?” you asked sweetly, but he said nothing.  “Love?”

“I guess I’m not much of a partier,” he explained flatly.

You smiled a little, taking out your other earring and then reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace.  You didn’t even really notice the silence before it was broken.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” William said suddenly, and you scoffed— once you realised what he was talking about.

“He’s just that way,” you assured, “I don’t take it personally.”

“And all the talk of your genius, of your prodigious writing— that’s not personal?”

You shrugged slightly as you turned slightly and looked at him over your shoulder, smiling but knitting your brows together in confusion.  “Isn’t that why you married me?  I thought you liked the way people fawn over me.”

“But you know him,” William insisted again.  “You knew him before you even met me, you work with him— you spend long hours with him, when I’m gone—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you laughed, standing up, but he only glared at you.  You tilted your head as you approached him.  “William, you couldn’t really think—”

“Don’t patronise me,” he sneered, and when you reached out to touch his face, he snatched you by the wrist and yanked you closer.

“William!” you scolded, whimpering as he moved his face close to yours, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through them.  “William, please—”

“Look at me,” he demanded, grabbing your face with his other hand.  “Look at your husband, darling.”

You bit your lip to suppress its shaking, meeting his fiery— yet cold— stare.  “You’re hurting me,” you whispered, tightening your hand into a weak fist as he held it painfully tight.

“I can see, you know,” he told you sharply and quietly through his teeth.  “I can see the way you laugh at his jokes, and let him pull you closer.  His hand on your hip—”

“It’s nothing, William,” you breathed, and his hand moved down from your face to your neck, then your chest, where he brushed his fingers over the neckline of your dress.

“Wearing the dresses he buys for you,” he noticed with a sneer.  “God, he’s got you looking like his fucking whore.”

He shoved you back and you tripped to land on the bed, hiding your face in fear and shame as he stalked towards you.

“Now you want to play innocent?” William spat as he towered over you.  “I told you to fucking look at me!”

“I can’t!” you sobbed, fighting when he grabbed your arms and tried to pry them apart, attempting to force you to turn onto your back.  “I can’t, William, not when you’re like this!”

“You made me like this!” he accused, eventually getting you to turn over so he could pin down your wrists on either side of your head.  “You made me like this,” he said again, voice lowered from shouting to a soft growl.  “You let him put his filthy fucking hands all over you, didn’t you?”

“No, William,” you denied, crying weakly as you shook your head.  “Never.  I love you— I love you more than anything.”

“But you won’t tell me the truth,” he snarled.  “The truth, darling, not another story— not another one of your goddamn stories!”

“He kissed me!” you admitted suddenly, and before you could explain, William roughly slammed his lips onto yours.  You whimpered into it, struggling against his tightening grip, and he pressed you down into the bed with the weight of his body.

“Tell me how it happened,” he demanded, lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, eyes still piercing through you.

“I swear, Will, I told him to stop,” you breathed, “I pushed him away.  I told him I love you, William— and I do, don’t you know how much I do?”

“He kissed you,” William repeated, rage tinting his voice.

“That’s all, I swear,” you promised.

“And you didn’t tell me—”

“I thought you’d get angry,” you defended weakly.

“You didn't tell your poor, doting husband,” he groaned, “your heartbroken husband—”

“I’m so sorry, William,” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me, hm?  Because you love him?”

“No!  Fuck, no,” you cried.

“Because you considered it— because you thought about letting him make love to you?”

“No!” you shouted, but he suddenly put a hand over your mouth to muffle it.  When you stopped, stilling briefly as he looked down at you, he took his hand away and stroked your cheek with it.

“He must have forgotten,” William whispered under his breath, petting your face and acting oddly sweet.  “He must have forgotten that you… belong to me.”

You blinked quickly, shivering as he pressed a slow, short kiss to your lips.

“That these lips belong to me,” he continued with a sigh, “that this neck belongs to me—”

He kissed it, but brushed his teeth teasingly over your pulse.

“That every single, beautiful, perfect part of you,” he went on, hands running down over your chest and settling on your waist tightly, “belongs to me.”

He bit down harder on your neck and you whined.

“Did you forget too, darling?”

“William, you’ll leave marks,” you whimpered, “you’ll bruise me—”

“Good,” he purred, “then you can’t just take your ring off and act single, can you?”

“I never take off your ring, William,” you swore, “not even to bathe…”

“I still want my marks all over you,” he explained darkly, “I still want you bruised tomorrow.  I don’t just want them to know you’re married, darling— I want them to know how good I fuck you.  I want them to know that your husband fucks you.”

Suddenly his hands were at your dress, tearing it to shreds right down the front.

“And I want them to know,” he continued with a groan, “how much you love it.”

He flipped you over roughly, yanking you up by your hair until you were forced to scramble onto your hands and knees.  Your head dropped defeatedly when he let go of your hair, and he held your hips tightly with one hand as he opened his trousers with the other.

“W-wait,” you stammered, but he ignored you, reaching up under the tatters of your dress to yank your girdle and panties down.  Before you could beg for some mercy again he slammed into you, making you choke out a wavering cry; instantly he was fucking you hard and fast, making you shake all over and try to reach back to grab his hips so he might slow down.  “W-Will, love, please—” you whimpered helplessly.

“Fuck, if that son of a bitch could see you like this,” William sneered.  “If he could see you now— he’d know who you belong to, wouldn’t he?  If he could see you on your hands and knees, begging for me…”

He fucked you even harder— his hand reached up to hold onto your shoulder so you wouldn’t fall forward from the force of it.

“If he could see what a dirty little wife you are,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your skin— more marks, you were sure.  “Fuck, you’re soaking me already, darling.”

A whimper slipped from your mouth as he leaned down, holding you tightly and speaking right by your ear.

“You like it, don’t you?  Playing with me,” he hissed.  “You like driving your poor husband crazy, thinking you might be stepping out on him?”

You shook your head, choking on a moan as he slowed his movements to make sure every thrust reached as deep into you as possible.  “N-no, love, no—”

“You like how I fuck you when I’m angry, don’t you?” he went on anyways, biting the shell of your ear until your channel clenched around him.  “Is that what got you so wet, darling?”

Biting your lip to hide your moans, you held tighter onto the sheets beneath you, and one of his hands came down to wrap around yours.

“So sweet,” he cooed, “such a sweet little wife.  You look so innocent, darling, they have no idea what a slut you are— none of them do, but fuck… they will.”

He sped up again and you whined loudly; the pain and the pleasure together made your legs shake, hardly able to hold you up on the bed.  He snatched one of the nearby pillows and shoved it under your hips— it kept them up when he began to fuck you so hard that you fell forward, and the angle hit just right inside you as a desperate scream was muffled by your face falling into the sheets.

"Yes, there she is," he praised, "my whore wife— how she loves to be fucked, reminded of her place.  This is your place, isn't it?  In my bed, sweet cunt taking my cock?  Not out with that awful man— not on those godforsaken book tours—"

When you tried to reach back to keep him from going too deep again, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them back beside your face as he kept thrusting even faster, making the whole bed bounce and shake.

"You can take it all, darling," he promised with a groan, "you can fit your husband inside, all the way— fuck, you're so beautiful like this.  You're so perfect, my angel…"

He buried his face in your neck as he thrusted into you, his own moans rivalling yours while he kissed your neck and ear and shoulder.  

No one could accuse your husband of lacking passion, even if they didn’t see him like this— which you really hoped they didn’t.  From the very beginning, he’d pursued you fervently: he read one of your short stories, and wrote rather effusive fan mail to the magazine in which it was published.  And then when he came to your publisher’s office hoping to meet you, he took one look at you and became properly obsessed.  He insisted you were the love of his life… and before you’d even really gotten to know him!  You were nearly offended at first; but the longer his seduction went on, the more you couldn’t help but fall for him.  Strong yet tender, kind yet stern, intelligent yet sensitive… and creative, much more than you expected.  He had quite an imagination.

Unfortunately, that imagination had a dark side, especially with his tendency to be quite jealous.  It had never gone this far before, though.

He pulled out of you, only a moment of relief and disappointment, before turning you onto your back and hovering over you.  “Look at me,” he demanded again, though his voice was low and gentle now, “look up at me, beautiful.”

He tilted your chin up with two fingers, admiring the tears in your eyes with a tender sort of expression.

“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck as he slowly pushed back inside you.  Your back arched and he slipped one arm under it to hold you tightly as he set a more careful pace than before— though still not all that slow.  "My beautiful girl— you can't help it, can you?  The way men feel about you."

A slightly deeper thrust made you gasp and reach up to hold his shoulders, blinking through the watering in your eyes.

"Of course he kissed you," he breathed, "if you were another man's wife, I'd kiss you too.  I'll always have to have you, darling, nothing could stop me."

"I pushed him away, love," you swore again.

"I know, I know," he cooed.  "But I still can't stand to think of it… of my darling wife being kissed by someone else.  He would've only done that if he thought you'd kiss him back, you know— he thought you would let him fuck you."

He picked up his pace, staring deep into your eyes and gripping you tightly.

“When you’re pregnant, then he’ll know,” William announced proudly as he held your hips.  “Then everyone who sees you will know: you fucking belong to me.”

Overwhelmed by it, you felt yourself get even hotter and slicker between the legs at the idea of that.  He was wrong about you wanting to make him jealous, but neither of you could deny now that you got some gratification out of it.

“Say it,” he ordered.

“I belong to you,” you promised, “I’m yours— you know I’m yours, love, always—”

He hummed in agreement, pumping deeper and faster into you as your head spun.  “You’ll be the most beautiful expectant wife there ever was,” he purred, a rough hand tugging your bra out of the way and groping your breasts.  “These nice and full— all of you swollen and soft—”

“W-William,” you stammered, hardly able to breathe with his weight on you and the way he filled you.

“Big belly,” he cooed, “and my baby inside— our baby.  Fuck, how can I wait to see you like that?”

“F-fuck,” you choked out, “don’t stop, please… please, my love—”

“I’ll fill you, darling,” he promised lowly, baring his teeth as you started to fall into it— your head tilting back into the mattress, pleasure overtaking you, your fingers digging into his shoulders.  “I’ll give you everything I have, every night, until it takes—”

“Please,” you begged, holding him tighter and lifting your face up with what little energy you had to bury it in his shoulder.  You cried from the intensity of it all— from everything— as shudders wracked your body.  He groaned as he felt you pulsing around him, kissing your face and groaning beside your ear.

“What a good little wife,” he praised as you came, “what a perfect little wife— you want it, don’t you?  To be pregnant, have my child?”

You barely managed to nod, you were so overcome by every sensation running through you.  But you did, and he growled proudly.

“You will, my angel,” he promised, “I’ll make sure of it.  Just say one more time that you love me, darling— that you’ll always be mine—”

“I-I love you so much, William,” you swore, muffled in the jacket that you clutched needily.  “I’m yours— I’m always yours— oh!”

You lost track of your words, but it didn’t matter then because you were drowned out by his gasps: heavy, low breaths as he pressed into you one last time and filled you completely.

Instantly, you were flooded with even more emotions: shame, ecstasy, confusion, hurt, love.  It was too much to take even if you weren’t still slightly tipsy and entirely sleep-deprived, but altogether it just turned you into a mess.

After coming down from his high— though he was still catching his breath— William seemed to sober up in a second as you cried harder.  Cooing gently at you, he wrapped his arms tighter around you and hugged you close.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he breathed as he held you tightly, “I’m so sorry.  You know it’s just my love that makes me this way— I just can’t stand to see another man lay his hand on you… I just can’t imagine you with anyone else, it breaks my heart, darling.”

“You break my heart, William,” you whispered back, still hiding in his shoulder, “when you think I could ever hurt you like that.  When you accuse me of something like that—”

“I just get scared, darling,” he sighed, petting your back slowly as he rocked you in his arms.  “I just get scared that you’re too good to be true.  That this beautiful creature can’t be all mine.”

You smiled against his skin, holding onto him tighter.  “I love you so much, William… I’d never— you have to believe me, I’d never—”

“Shh,” he soothed softly, as he held your head and kissed the top of it.  “I know, darling, I know.  Because you belong to me.”

[ddejavvu]

hii could you write animagus!reader x sirius, she’s “making biscuits” in Sirius lap/tummy and the boys are like “she’s marking her territory”

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13

--

James peers over the novel that he's reading, squinting at you where you lay on Sirius's chest. Well, you're not really laying as much as you are perching, your legs bent but in use as you use them for leverage. You've been kneading the soft layer of pudge that's grown over Sirius's stomach after months away from the Black family Manor, and he's more than happy to let you do so as he listens to the music that's playing from their almost-busted record player behind his bed.

"Another long shift at the biscuit factory," James sighs teasingly, "Babe, I ordered mine an hour ago. What's the holdup?"

"Patience, James," Remus muses, his lanky legs crossed over Sirius's as he sits perpendicular to the boy on his mattress. He reaches out to rub between your ears, and you offer him a grateful purr, but you don't slow in your pursuits, "She's new, alright? Cut her some slack."

"She shouldn't have started a job she can't finish," James scoffs, "That's irresponsible."

"Well you've started a novel you won't finish, and that's for a grade," Remus bites back, "I don't recall you offering Y/N any form of payment for her services."

"I-" James starts, with an air of indignance so like him, but Sirius cuts him off.

"Prongs, please." He levels his friend with a cautious glance, "Don't aggravate her. It's my stomach she's diggin' her claws into, here. If you keep it up I'm gonna bleed. I'm all for her marking her territory, but I'd rather not spring a leak."

James's nose wrinkles, but still he persists, as only James Potter is capable of despite better judgement telling him to stop, "Well that's just poor restaurant quality; she should keep her workspace clean."

A yowl is all the forewarning that James gets before you use Sirius's stomach as a launchpad and spring at him where he lounges in bed, but he doesn't complain, because his now-bloodstained thumb gives him a good excuse to stop reading.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Lessons Learned~

Abel x Fem! Reader x Adam

Based on the prompt idea @cosmiiwrites made here. I happily offer myself up as the degen willing to write this! TW: SMUT!, Age gap!, P in V, Fingering, Voyeurism IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT

Abel knows he’s too soft and inexperienced with sex. He knows he won’t know how to please you properly, no matter how much porn Cane shows him on the side. He knows he can’t possibly do things right with you, knowing you’ve done this all before with other men who were more prominent and more knowledgeable than him. However, God does he wish to please you and make you see stars like all the novels he reads say. He wants to treat you how you deserve to be treated in bed. He never thought he’d be so desperate to fuck someone good and hard like he does with you. 

Abel went to the one man who taught him everything he knew…Adam. The one man who knew all the right ways to please a woman properly, he was the first man, after all. He asks Adam to show him how to care for you when you two head to bed. He tells Adam he doesn't know how to care for someone else's needs, at least with someone so experienced like you. He tells Adam he needs to be instructed and to see how he should work to keep you both romantically and sexually. 

You’re nervous at first, thinking it’s an insane idea. Who in their right mind would agree to have their boyfriend fuck them right in front of their father. However, you can’t hide the wetness along your panties as you sit on Abel’s lap, back pressed against his chest, legs spread over his thick thighs, his soft knuckle dragging down your warmth. Adam sits back in his chair, telling Abel exactly how to move his fingers, paying close attention to your body's minuscule movements, the way your brows furrow when Abel moves a certain way, or your eyelashes flutter even the way your breath hitches and the slight parting of your lips. 

This was supposed to be a strictly hands-off lesson for Adam, who was just sitting and talking to his son about how to please you. However, watching Abel fumble around your folds, unable to maintain the speed you needed, keeping you from reaching your orgasm, had Adam on edge. 

Adam leaned forward, rolling his chair with him, and told Abel to stop a soft whine leaving your parted lips from the lack of friction. Then, the unexpected happened: Adam told him to watch and pay close attention. Adam tears your panties off, and your eyes go wide at the contact with the cold air. You swallow, expecting Abel to be mad, frustrated, and scared, but his hands only settle around you, and he takes notes as he watches his father work on your pussy. 

Adam runs his thumb up your slit, circling your aching clit, and tells Abel to hold your thighs apart wider when you unconsciously try to clench them at the touch. Just as you were getting used to Adam's assault on your clit his finger began to sink into you, leaving your head falling back against Abel’s chest, eyes shut tight as you pant. You can't help but moan at how large Adam's finger is, and you feel Abel harden beneath you. “How are you feeling bitch?” Adam asks you. You babble out incoherently, your mind going blank as Adam adds a second finger and smirks at your response.

It slowly becomes too much, Adam’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, his other hand now rubbing your clit just right, Abel’s fingers digging into the softness of your thighs as he forces them apart wider and wider for his father. “Oh Fuck” you slur, “I’m gonna…“ Adam smirks, his eyes lighting up as he watches you orgasm, your body clenching around his fingers shoved deep in your heat. 

"That’s it slut. You like having your boyfriend's dad fuck you," You shiver at Adam’s words as he looks up at Abel. “You gotta talk the girls through their orgasm. It seems yours likes being called names,” Adam tells Abel. You're still shaking, and Abel rubs his hands over your exposed skin. "That’s it, princess. Did my dad make you feel that good? Next time, it’ll be me making you purr," he says, kissing the side of your neck as he speaks. 

"She is hot as fuck when she cums. You picked a good one," Adam spoke out, his fingers leaving you empty and clenching on nothing. You steady your breathing, coming down from your incredible high, completely limp in Abel’s arms. Adam can see Abel’s eyes show desire but fear, his pupils blown wide, but an unsteady look covers his face. 

Adam knows Abel doesn't know how to fuck a woman properly. Eve ensured her precious baby boy was never exposed to his father's antics. Adam sees the feral need in Abel’s eyes to ram himself into you, but the fear that he will mess up is more present. "Are you gonna try fucking her now?" Adam asks. 

Abel releases a shaky breath, his hips beginning to buck up against your ass. He knows he would only mess up or hurt you since what Able lacked in size; he made up for in girth. "I’m not sure I will be able to, Pa," whispered Abel.

Adam sighs, shaking his head, sitting back in thought, his eyes roaming over your spent body leaking your milky cum. Suddenly, you feel shy, wanting to close your legs at the heated gazes that both men are giving you, but Abel’s arms tighten on your thighs, leaving you wide open. "I could start her off, get her nice and wet for you, so all you have to do is slip in and pound her," Adam finally spoke after several minutes of them just watching your sloppy cunt.

Abel grinds up against you, a deep sigh leaving him, his left hand sliding into your hair and turning you to face him so he can kiss you. Your eyes flutter at the stark contrast of how delicate Abel is with you. "You okay with my dad preparing you for me, lover?" Abel asks against your puffy kiss and bruised lips. 

"Don’t you want to fuck me, Abey?" you stutter when you answer. 

"Yes, baby, I do, but I am afraid I would ruin our first time; I have never been with a girl, and I want you to feel everything properly." He looked at you with soft puppy eyes as he was so sincere about wanting you to feel good, even if it wasn’t by his hand alone. 

You swallow the growing saliva in your mouth and nod softly to him in confirmation; Abel’s hands leave your hair and thigh, pawing at your clothed chest, asking nicely through body language to take it off of you. You nod and comply easily, and your shirt comes off. You look between the two men you are with and speak softly. "Okay, I will do it."

Adam smirked, stood from his chair, and began to undo his robes. "Good Girl, you are a slut, and here I learn my son likes to watch," Adam motions to the bed in the room. “Come get on this bed for me and spread your legs, let’s give Abel here a good show on how to fuck a bitch.”

You’re nervous as you stand up, body on full display for both men. You look back at Abel, but he only motions you gently with his head to follow his dad, urging you to get up and do as you were told. You sigh softly and nod with bare, shaky legs; you walk to the bed, Abel’s hands lingering on your body until you step out of his reach.

The robes hitting the floor made you freeze as you looked over Adam’s body. He was far bigger than your boyfriend was, but his dick wasn’t as girthy. Were you really going to do this in front of Abel? Let Adam, his father, fuck you in your boyfriend's house while he watches? You grew nervous that this would change your relationship and perspective forever. Having Adam watch while Abel tried to please you was one thing, but having Adam balls deep in your pussy while Abel pleasured himself was another. 

Adam’s eyes trace your naked figure as you approach, the cool air making your nipples perk up. Adam motions to you, then the bed, a smirk growing on his face. You slip past Adam and feel his hands grab onto the fat of your ass, reposting you so you are on full display to Abel. Adam leans forward, his hands gripping either side of the headboard, caging you in. “You scared that you will like the first dick more than my sons? It’s alright if you do; I’ll train Abel up good and well to fuck you even with what he does have.”

You nod, unable to form coherent words. You hear Abel shifting in his seat and the sound of his robes coming loose. However, you’re too drawn into Adam to dare risk a glimpse at your boyfriend's manhood. Slowly, Adam runs a hand down your body, and one of his fingers slips between your legs once again, dragging through your core and making you whimper. “Damn, babe, came so hard earlier that you still have so much left, making you nice and ready for me, yeah?” Adam looks over his shoulder at Abel. “Now, before you go fucking her son, you gotta make sure she is nice and wet, luckily your dad here is a wizard with his finger, and she is still soaking, but you can also use your mouth and devour her juices to help get her wet too, understood?”

Abel lets out a soft whine and then groans of understanding at his dad's words. You lay flat against the bed as Adam finds purchase between your legs, his cock dangerously close to your womanhood. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement, as Adam practically drooled at the sight of you. Adam takes his cock in his hand and strokes himself gently as he keeps working your pussy with his other hand, his thumb circling your clit before you feel the head of his cock on your entrance.

The way Adam’s pressed against you has your mouth watering. Just with his cock hovering above you, it was easy to tell he would be kissing your cervix. You gulped and looked up at Adam’s eyes, his grin only widening when he caught on to the thoughts in your head. “Yeah, bitch you will have a nice bludge in that tummy when I am in ya.”

You turn your head to look at Abel, your eyes widening, and your heart races, witnessing the sight before you. Abel has his short girthy cock out and is stroking himself as he watches you and his father. “Now pay attention, kid,” Adam says to Abel. “We are gonna take things nice and slow at first, got it.”

Adam edges himself inside you, and you immediately whine, your legs flying up from the bed and clinging around Adam’s waist, your instincts kicking in with how deep this man's dick is already going. This only seems to incite him further, Adam laughing softly as he grunts, making his way deep inside of you.

“That’s it, whore,” Adam speaks slowly as he takes an excruciatingly long time edging his cock inside you, small strokes back and forth, going a little bit deeper each time. You squeeze your eyes shut as Adam works his way in. He was huge, and when you looked down, there was a stomach bulge. The sight only caused you to squeeze down tighter on the man as he pushed into you.

Your eyes flutter, your lips parted, and your face flushed as you take in all Adam has to offer. Adam grins before glancing over at Abel and gesturing his head toward the other side of the bed where your chest was exposed. You hear Abel shuffle and move across the floor; you feel his presence next to you. “Now, kid, you’re gonna touch her exactly how I showed you earlier,” Adam demanded. 

Abel’s fingers are on you, sliding along the top of your bust, lightly feathering your exposed skin. His hands are soft and calm as he wraps them around your mounds, and the sweet little sounds he makes only edge you on further. Abel gropes your chest, and you squirm at his aggressive touch. Abel smirks, moving on to your nipples, pinching and pulling gently till you moan, and Adam uses that as his chance to begin thrusting hard inside of you.

You’re so distracted by Abel's touch that you don’t realize Adam’s harsh movement until he sheathes himself to the hilt inside you again. You yelp, your eyes widening. “Damn bitch you’re so tight, fuck” Adam slurs. Abel releases your breast, your chest likely red and marked, and he pulls his cock free, stroking it. You turn to look, flustered, as Abel works himself, his cock right beside your head, his eyes dancing between where his father's cock is buried deep inside you and your glistening eyes. Adam tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand caressing the side of your face, forcing you to look up at him as he rocks his hips against you harder and harder. 

Abel tries his best to pay attention, but fuck, watching you whimper and whine like that is driving him mad. “You are doing such a good job for us, princess,” Abel says above you. Your eyes meet his, and you’re forced to let out a moan as Adam begins to rub your clit. “You look just how you did with his fingers; you're going to cum on my dad’s cock?” his words enticing, like he’s getting just as much pleasure out of this as you. You nod, your hands reaching above your head to grip the edge of the headboard. “That’s my good girl,” Abel praises. 

“Are you going to let me fill this pretty pussy up bitch?” Adam asks. He seems so confident, but you can hear how he’s losing himself and desperate for your tightness. You tell him yes, your words clipping on a whimper, and Adam begins to rub circles on your clit faster, needing to feel you clench down on him harder. 

You cry out, your walls clamping down, fluttering rapidly, and Adam groans loudly, swearing and cursing as he empties himself inside you. Then you feel it, something warm sliding down your breasts. Abel has one hand gripping the headboard, the other still on his cock, his cum now painted across your chest. You can’t help the wave of ecstasy that fills you when you see it. 

Adam gently pulls out, muttering something to Abel about how to be soft when leaving a woman's body. You feel liquid gush out of you and drip down your ass and onto the bed; your brain is in a haze as you look up at the two men who just used you. 

Adam helps you sit up,  mumbling about how well you did, how good you felt, how much of a slut you were for him. You’re confident that, at this point, Adam will show Abel how to care for you afterward, how to carry you to the bathroom, and how to help you put on some warm clothes. However, instead, he says something that makes the fog dissipate from your mind and electricity enter your pussy. Adam smirks at Abel, “Why don’t you show Pop's everything you just learned?”