#then what’s the point of adding a label

[vmlnrzmp4]

𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

no cw, just domestic bliss<3 for reference, she's making kheer: a famous south asian dessert. you can call it a pudding. this is me y'all. i think the "banned from kitchen" girlies deserve representation. without further ado, enjoy<3

itoshi sae

"it stings...!" you mumble a complain as sae applies the burn-cream to your thumb and index finger. he calls you a dumbass for even stepping into the kitchen.

"sae," you call softly trying to gain his attention. he ignores, too busy tending your wounds. "sae," you call again. and after a long pause, he hums.

"what?"

"can you atleast taste what i made?"

he looks up at you, blowing air from his mouth to your booboo, the coolness easing the pain a little. "you sure it's not poison?"

"no promises."

he stares at you for a moment. sighing, he reaches for the spoon, taking a bit—just a little bite, "what did you put in this?" he asks, "is this supposed to be salty?"

oh the horror! "what?"

"it's salty."

you take the spoon from him, tasting it too, gagging at the bitterness. "i may or may not have added salt instead of sugar."

"you," he snaps his finger at you, "stay out of the kitchen."

itoshi rin

"hot hot hot!" you say, the burning spoonful of kheer still in your mouth.

"here," rin quickly passes you a bottle of cold water as you wash it down, "don't choke on it." his brows furrow, "is this supposed to be that watery and oily?"

"it's not oil. i used ghee," you say, showing him the container, "it's butter. but fancier." he examines it in his hand, reading the label and notes. you take another gulp of the cold water, "my tongue feels numb now."

he takes a spoonful, seeing how it runs down from the sides like water, "what were you trying to do?"

you sigh. big big sigh as you ramble, "i tried making this. i know i shouldn't even step into the kitchen but, i just felt like yes i can do it like it's the easiest thing i can make cause my cousin made it back in india and she sent me a picture of it and it looked so simple and i—"

"it's fine," he cuts you off, "leave it to me next time."

isagi yoichi

"here you go," you say, placing the bowl in front of him, along with a spoon and a forced smile.

he chuckles nervously, taking the spoon from you, "is this...soup?"

"no!" you correct, "it's kheer, even fancier!"

he hums, taking in a spoonful while you wait expectantly.

he coughs. loudly.

looking up at you he sees the horror in your eyes—he feels guilty as he sees the messy apron, hair that was messily put up in a bun and a little something on your cheek too—you worked hard on it.

"it's...not bad."

you let out the most heart wrenching sigh, "it's ok yo-chan," you plop yourself beside him, your forehead bangs on the table, "you don't need to lie."

"oh y/n..." he reaches for you, soothing your forehead that you just abused on the table, "it's not bad, really. it's just...a little too sweet for my liking. maybe we can fix it together?"

you look at him with puppy-dog eyes, yet fully of hope, "together?"

"together."

michael kaiser

the first thing kaiser does is plant a sweet peck on your cheek as he enters the kitchen, pointing at the apron you wore that says kiss the chef.

"what's cooking?"

you simply point at the cook-book that was open. he raises an eyebrow, then adjusts the glasses resting on his forehead, pushing them down to eye level as he inspects the recipe.

"aaaand all done!" you say happily. but the horror in kaiser's eyes when you were pouring the kheer into a bowl—it was like you were a maniac mixing chemicals to feed the lab rats.

"here," you hand him the spoon, "mihya, i want you to be the first one to try it."

he gulps in fear, "if that's what you want angel..."

aftermath.

he wouldn't stop laughing at you and your poor attempt to stealing a chef's job.

"i'm sorry—" he laughs, "—i'm sorry," more laugher.

"i get it. i can't cook. and i apologize for even thinking i would get appreciated. even if it's a little."

his laughter dies down slowly—still smirking as he hugs you from behind, "hey, i appreciate you loads. even if you made the most disastrous dish imaginable," he pecks your temple, "it's the thought that matters."

[two-sibyls-tall]

My brother, who has an actual Adult Job, just came downstairs from his 7AM meeting to me laying on the couch, barely awake after my overnight shift and scrolling on my phone. I turn my phone to show him what I’m looking at.

I say, “It’s that Shrimple.”

He nods solemnly. “It’s that Shrimple.”

He leaves the room.

At no point did he even hesitate or question why I am receiving Instagram ads for rolls of stickers labelled ‘Shrimp’.

[isalisewrites]

hello ms. isalise !! suddenly i had a thought so i wanted to ask, if members of the knights of walpurgis were a deadly sin, who would be which one in your opinion and why do you think that if that's not too much of a hustle!! <3

Nah, not a hassle at all! I love this question and I took the time to really think about it. I limited it to Terrible, But Great's Tom and Slytherin dorm gang, choosing not to duplicate a sin. And I didn't give one for all of the Knights. I also added an eight extra sin, just for fun. It'll make sense, haha.

SO. I'm going to explain these as fatal flaws to their character.

Tom Riddle is Pride.

This one is self explanatory. Tom's fatal flaw is pride, which was his downfall in the canon timeline. If he's not careful, it'll take him down again. It's through his humbling that he becomes a better and stronger person. When he stops viewing himself above others, he's able to make beautiful connections with his friends, with adults who care about him, and with Harry.

Alphard Black is Gluttony.

I almost picked Sloth for Alphard, but Gluttony don't suit Simon at all. Gluttony is the fatal flaw of overconsumption. The Deadly Sin is in reference to food specifically, but in the case of Alphard, he can go a little overboard on things. He'll sleep too much and because he's so good at noticing nuances, he can push people's buttons extremely well, even more than Quintus would - we just haven't seen him fall into his fatal flaw as much yet, but we will in the future. (Specifically when he finds out about a certain pair of newly dating boys.)

Quintus Prince is Greed.

This one reveals a lot of Quintus' inner workings. But Quintus does secretly value pureblood status. While Alphard has broken off his engagement, Quintus has not. It is this fear of losing what he has that holds him back from abandoning his status as the heir of Prince and wholeheartedly embracing his relationship with Alphard.

And he will suffer for it.

Roland Rosier is Lust.

Despite Al and Quin's innuendos, Roland is the most sexually promiscuous of the group. He's free and wild about it. He hasn't cared about how he's gone about having sex with other girls, until now. He's met Edith. If he wants to be with Edith, he'll have to change this fatal flaw.

Simon Avery is Sloth.

This really suited Simon the most, interestingly enough, even though I didn't realize it at first. He is generally content with maintaining the status quo. He observes more than he interferes and it wasn't until chapter 51 that we got to see him push beyond his fatal flaw. He'll slowly grow out of this inaction over time even more.

Sebastian Lestrange is Wrath.

This boy has the quickest and meanest of the tempers in the entire group, more so than Tom or Harry. When I started writing TBG, I labeled him as a bastard. He isn't nice, at first. He can easily cause fights and problems because of his temper. As he's grown throughout the story, we're seeing him calm down a bit through Harry's selfless friendship. If Sebastian doesn't keep working on his wrath, he won't be able to be an effective adult in Tom's inner circle.

Marcus (or Maia) Mulciber is Envy.

As Marcus hasn't transitioned at this point in time, I will still address Marcus with he/him pronouns. Marcus' fatal flaw is envy. He wishes he could escape the chains of his pureblood duties and live fully as a woman, but he believes he can't. In the beginning, he was cruel, cranky, and mean. But when someone (Harry) acknowledges his desire and honors it, we begin to see his envy fading away.

And, for fun, Harry Evans (Potter) is Chaos/Disorder.

Harry is the epitome of chaos. He's very ADHD coded and that's both a blessing and a curse for him. It's his chaos that gets him into trouble, but also leads him down the path he was always meant to traverse. The key to overcoming this fatal flaw is harnessing his chaotic energy, rather than letting it carry him off.

This was an amazing ask. Thank you so much! <3

[cute-cuck-wannabe-wife]

The weekend special

Friday

Friday night started with me waiting as instructed in the corner Sir was milling around for a bit I was told to stay. He came back into the lounge I thought I heard a mumble but stayed then he shouted I said turn the fuck around I spun around only to be met with a slap across my face. "That was your warning I do not repeat myself" I just nodded shocked I barely heard anything when he walked in. Lesson leared I need to pay more attention. He put the large plug on the floor in front of me told me to lube it with my spit then get it in my ass without my hands. I sat on the plug it took me a few Min to get it in and I basically got it in by fucking it with my ass till it popped in. I was pretty chuffed but got nothing from him. He also attached a heavy length of chain to my collar.

"open" was the only instruction. I knew of course. He rammed his cock down my throat gagging me he went for about 10 Min or so throat fucking me until he came. He then gagged me with a ball gag. You're done for now. I tuned back around and waited again while he watch TV.

"I want snacks" was the next words he said to me. I started asking what he would like through the gag he just stared at me. "Don't make me repeat myself" I had no idea what to get him and ended up going back and forth with about 4 different options eventually he was happy with his snack and sent me back to the corner.

It was about 0800 when he told me I could take the gag out and to go put a gown on and fetch the food delivery. I'm pretty sure the delivery driver saw the chain and collar.

When I got back in the house there was a plastic food bowl in the middle of the floor he took the delivery from me told me to get down ass up and keep quiet.

He ordered a favourite of mine potstickers, Bao buns and pork dumplings. It smelled delicious and I realised how hungry I was. He ate and I couldn't help but look up at him with pleading eyes. He looked at me and asked if I was hungry. "Yes Sir" he told me I could go get mine in the fridge "you'll know it when you see it" I jumped up and went to get my food I was heartbroken when I saw it labelled scraps it was a porridge that had been made in the morning. I brought it through him laughing as he could see the disappointment in my eyes. "In the bowl" I put the slop into the bowl looked at him again and started to move my head to the bowl "stop come here" I went over to him and he locked my wrists using the chain behind my neck. His cock hard he forced my head down on him again sucking him off as he came he said don't swallow spit it on your food then you may eat. I was almost in tears as I was eating I didn't mind the taste but God damn the potstickers smelt delicious. When I was finished eating I thanked him he looked down at me and said "your desert is on the floor behind you" I was confused and as I looked I saw I had made a puddle on the floor under my pussy. I licked it clean obviously but I was amazed I was leaking so much.

The rest of the night involved a few more BJ's and a slap or two.

Bedtime was called at about 11 pm I was dragged to the room bent over plug pulled out blanket over my head and he fucked my ass filling it with his cum. Before I knew it I was plugged again smaller plug this time and the chain locked to my wrist to the bedpost he threw a pillow to me.

Didn't say goodnight or anything just turned off the light and I heard him fall asleep.

To say I was taken aback was an understatement and the thoughts going through my head were chaotic. Then I started thinking.

1. We never had the chain before.

2. He actually made the porridge in the morning.

3. He added the fixing point to the bedpost.

4. He doesn't like potstickers or dumplings

The amount of effort he made just to humiliate degrade torture me.

He really wants me to be happy and is giving me what I want.

I'm such a lucky slave

[plotholes-and-spellingerrors]

I think the thing is that, fundamentally, there's no such thing as running an "AI" locally. (I'm assuming that when you say "AI" you're referring to the "generative" models where a user makes a natural-language request, e.g. "re-organize my business", and the model outputs an org chart or something.) The problem is that these models require so much compute that you basically cannot run them on a personal computer. If you saw that post going around talking about Windows quietly turning on constant system snapshots to run it's AI assistant, the article pointed out that some features were only available on machines with specially beefed-up processors and memory, and even then, internet connectivity was vital because it was sending data back to Microsoft to be processed - that was part of the privacy/security risk, that images potentially displaying passwords, etc., were being stored on Microsoft servers. The point being, you need massive server farms to ingest, store, and analyze the data that these models are being built on - and it never ends, or the model becomes stale. And even once you have the model, calculating a response is also incredibly resource intensive. That's why every single Google AI result takes so much more water and electricity than the entirety of the actual search results combined.

I have shared the link before, but I am begging people to listen to the "Data Vampires" miniseries from Tech Won't Save Us. They make clear very early on that the reason Microsoft, Google, and Amazon are pushing AI so much is because they are data center companies: they make money every time a service uses their data centers. And you know where ChatGPT and MidJourney results are being processed? On Microsoft and Google and Amazon's data centers. In fact, a lot of the "money" that these companies are investing into GenAI orgs is actually just donating server usage to them, to get them locked in on those servers, which will then need to be paid for. So the GenAI companies have to find a way to get people to pay for AI services, because they're paying for AI compute power.

The other thing, and I cannot stress this enough, is that these are not knowledge models. They are very sophisticated duplication models. If you say to the "AI", "Make my workflow simpler", it doesn't have a semantic understanding of what "simpler" means (and it certainly can't ask for clarification). All it can do is look at its massive data set and try to predict a version of whatever it is outputting that is associated with the string of letters "simpler", based on a bunch of stuff that has previously been labeled as "simple" (or similar words). So you might get a work flow that has fewer steps, for example, but what the "AI" might not realize (because it doesn't have a concept of what any of the steps are) is that maybe it's actually added that are meaningless, maybe it's just shuffled some steps to it looks like there's fewer but actually it's just hidden a couple... or maybe it's eliminated some vital error-checking steps that 98% of the time result in nothing (it looks like a waste of time, so simplify it out) but 1.7% of the time catches something minor (oh good, that would have wasted resources to fix) and 0.3% of the time catches something mission-critical (this error could have brought us to bankruptcy/court/prison). And keep in mind, the person asking an automated system to simplify their business workflow is NOT the person who designed the workflow and knows what needs to be in there (if they were, they wouldn't need a computer to tell them how to fix it) - they're the person trying to not need to pay someone to design the workflow.

And for that matter, a lot of what happens when some "AI" system is inserted into a process is that it's still doing the same task (just at a much higher computational requirement, and potentially wrong), but it looks simpler because the human user is only clicking one button rather than five.

And look, I'm all for automating tasks that are repetitive and time-consuming for a human - that's the whole point of computers in the first place. But a truly effective and efficient replacement for human work is one that was designed by people who are intimately familiar with the required tasks and thinking deeply about how to make their jobs easier.

You know, these techbros love to make it sound like humans are just bad at making systems, computers will be so much better at it, but I think that's a lie they tell because they want to make one generic product and get everyone to buy it. That's the promise of "general artificial intelligence" - it's one system that can do everything. But what else in life works like that? Do you put your clothes and your dishes in the same washing device? Something that does a lot of things well is typically very simple. You can fry an egg and boil water in the same pan because it's a bent piece of metal sitting over heat. An espresso machine, however, will have a harder time with the egg. Good software generally focuses on doing one thing - the difference is whether that one thing is simple and can be applied to a lot of different things (Firefox renders web content, it just happens that you can have all kinds of stuff on the web) or if that one thing is extremely specific (Audacity edits music and GIMP edits images - audio and images are both data types that Firefox can show you, but can you imagine what a mess GIMPdacity would be?); the problem is that this specialization requires human effort, and these techbros do not want to PAY for human effort; the problem is that this specialization means that you have target audiences, and these techbros want to sell to a general (read: bigger) audience. And conversely, those byzantine systems that are so terrible? Often it's not because people are just dumb, it's because either the job is a very complicated one, and the system is tailored to success in that task, or because someone wanted a general system that accomplishes all kinds of things, and often what they want accomplished is METRICS so that the efficiency of the business can be micromanaged. But that's another story for another time. In short, don't ever let someone who is trying to sell you bullshit tell you the lie that you couldn't do better on your own.

Anyway, IDK if this is really even what OP meant, it's just where my mind went. If you put up with me to the end, thanks for reading.

MAN, can you imagine the clusterfuck of working at a company that’s become reliant on an AI layer between itself/its employees, and knowing how to do their jobs and use their systems and stuff? Like when that AI layer goes down, poof, you’re all hosed. And they don’t strike me as super robust…

I guess there are ways of training and running them locally, but they’re so seductive they’re definitely going to be deployed in places that aren’t up to the task of maintaining them in a sane state. Like… damn… cutting headcount in favor of relying on AI is like. A raccoon stuffing its head into a yogurt container. This is gonna be killing off organizations in a few years.

Unless AI gets good at destroying preexisting fucked up byzantine workflows and replacing them with simpler, human-friendly ones. That would be okay. But it is gonna irrevocably destroy a lot of records and botch a lot of database migrations on its way there.

[spockcock]

Actively disturbed by the fact Dan and Phil are t'hy'la (Vulcan word used to indicate people with a close bond; essentially translates to a combination friend, brother, and lover. Used most often to reference the characters Kirk and Spock as something like soulmates or spouses)

[fantasygerard2000]

When you criticize a media on why it didn't succeed, I'd listen. But the moment you used your own fanwork with your favorite tropes as an example on how "better" it would've been if you were in charge of making it, you lost me.

[cj-lyric-a-day]

look i struggled making this poll okay so now yall will struggle with me

Yes they are randomized, No im not telling you which one is which yall are GAMBLING now

Blame CJ

[effervescent-fool]

i think one of my biggest (and only) gripes with procreate is that they dont have like. a masterlist of features their app has to offer. a full thorough ui navigation. because ive been using procreate for a couple years now and im still discovering preexisting features because they just. dont mention it anywhere

[daz4i]

how and why is there discourse about whether or not certain queer identities exist/if people should be allowed(???) to use them. why is "people know their own identity better than you ever could, and they're the only one who get a say on what they are" such a tough concept to grasp

i think if you find yourself offended by the label someone uses (especially if they're a stranger) or think it invalidates your own, it's a good idea to look inside yourself and question why that may be. more often than not, it's a result of insecurity or uncertainty of your own identity (or many other things, but i won't make a whole list here). whatever reason it is, until you resolve it, you shouldn't take it out on people for having an identity you don't understand

many have said it before but it's worth saying over and over. infighting only helps our oppressors. conservatives don't care if you're a cis gay or a xenogender aegosexual aplatonic lesbian, they hate all of us either way. trying to fit in by going for people who are easier targets for them isn't gonna help you, it'll just alienate you from your own community, and you're never gonna please them. the momentary rush you get from hearing you're not like "one of /those/ gay people" is not worth it and is gonna do more harm in the long run, i assure you

also, it is important to me to say this, but having some less than nice kneejerk reaction caused by confusion about an identity you don't understand doesn't mean you're a bad person or anything. as long as you aren't mean to that person, and you take a second to think smth along the lines of "wait a minute, this isn't any of my business" after having said reaction, you're good 👍 a lot of reflexive reactions we have to things are ingrained into us simply by. well. living in a society 🤡 and you're not terrible for having those thoughts. it's your actions that matter, and your second thought (the "wait, why did i just think that?") is more defining of your actual character and morals than your reflex. i know that having thoughts like this, even tho they're unwanted, can very easily make one spiral, so it's important to me that whoever needs to hear this knows this doesn't make you a bad person 🙏 you're good, keep taking actions to be good, accept other people even if you don't understand them, and you're on the right track :)

[sweetest-honeybee]

Gender and pronouns are very different. Example I myself am identify as nonbinary and use he/they, I do not identify as a demi-boy personally. It varies person to person :)

Well I understand not necessarily identifying as something but what’s the difference between wanting to be referred to a certain set of pronouns and putting a label on those pronouns?

[orcelito]

The difficulty of planning some serious story things and not wanting to spoil said story things but also not wanting to risk upsetting ppl via untagged serious story things

It's. A balance, I guess. If at that point they've seen all the general warnings and don't understand that this is meant to be an honest depiction, then like. Idk.

[rook2ii]

dude, why does accidentally messing up on RYM feel scarier that accidentally messing up on MusicBrainz :[

[gautierprotectionsquad]

through a quick search, i found these

Bisexual and Pansexual Manifesto (first published in French)

Pansexual Manifesto carrd

Does pansexuality have its own manifesto? If so, link it to me. Unfortunately, all I find are manifestos from 2021, which I actually remember someone saying pansexuals have a manifesto from before that. Thank you.

hi! so i don't know if there are any out there. i don't think i've specifically looked.

[mmywanda]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a dark fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! men & minors dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[poisonlove]

Absolutely ignore/get rid of this is you don't wanna do it buttt

Can I request a Wednesday x Fem!reader where Wednesday has a general disregard for everyone and their feelings EXCEPT for her little situationship (reader) and it's just little instances where she's softer with her?

YOU | w.a

pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

A/N : I tried to satisfy your request as much as possible but Wednesday and reader don't have a situationship, they will develop... something ;)

"The most precious things in life are usually the most helpless." Penn Badgley

Wednesday Addams walked along the corridors of Nevermore Academy with a brisk yet graceful step, the sound of her shoes against the cold marble determining her hurry to get to the library. The other students stepped aside as she passed, probably intimidated by her dark and menacing gaze that seemed carved into her features.

"Addams, one word"

Wednesday reluctantly stops, turning slightly and raising an eyebrow. Yoko Tanaka strides toward her, sunglasses perched on her head revealing a pleading look. Wednesday had no intention of wasting her time with her roommate’s best friend, but seeing the vampire in such a state of despair piqued her curiosity.

"What do you want Yoko?" Wednesday asked, her tone of voice deliberately rude. But the brunette didn't care at all.

"I need your help," Yoko began, trying to keep calm, but her voice betrayed a certain frustration. "Could you help me with Thornill's homework? I can't find the damn Moon Flower anywhere."

Wednesday could hardly believe her ears: how dare she interrupt her plans for something so stupid? With her classic impassive gaze, the brunette stared at Yoko in a prolonged silence that made her feel more and more uncomfortable.

"I don't care," Wednesday finally replied with venom and disinterest, surprising the vampire. "If you can't do such a stupid task, maybe you deserve to fail," the brunette added in a cutting tone.

"but it doesn't cost you anything!" Yoko exclaimed in despair.

Wednesday's behavior annoyed her deeply, but Yoko had hoped that following Enid's advice to be kind and tolerant would at least provide some relief. Apparently she was wrong.

"I said no, Yoko," Wednesday replied, her tone even more icy. Her gaze was steady and impenetrable, and her patience, already thin, was completely exhausted.

Yoko sighed deeply, realizing that pushing further would get her nowhere. She put her sunglasses back on in a quick, controlled motion, hiding her annoyance behind a forced smile. Her grin revealed her pointed canines, a gesture that might have seemed threatening in other circumstances, but here it only served to hide her irritation.

"ok, Addams"

with one last look, Yoko walked away, keeping that forced smile until she turned the corner. Wednesday didn't follow her with her gaze, already tired of that brief and, in her eyes, pointless interaction.

As she set off again, determined to finally reach the library, she was interrupted again. This time it was her two friends Ajax and Xavier who stopped her. The two approached quickly with an air of urgency that seemed to want to drag her into some other stupid discussion.

"Wednesday, can we talk to you for a moment?" Xavier asked hesitantly.

the brunette stopped again, clearly irritated now. her gaze narrowed to a slit of annoyance as she waited for them to speak.

"I have a problem with my new work... and I think you can help me," Xavier said, trying to be persuasive.

Wednesday looked at both of them coldly, her patience crumbling with every passing second. All of Nevermore ignored her and labeled her as the school freak, psychopathic and creepy... and now, by some strange twist of fate, everyone needed her today? She simply wanted to go to the library to further her research on poisons and their uses , see you , continue writing her story, or go to the cemetery later.

“I don't care,” she replied coldly, hoping Xavier would understand that she felt some urgency in leaving.

"Addams," Ajax intervenes, "I wanted to ask you for advice... you know that I'm interested in Enid and since you're her roommate..." the gorgon continues, purposely leaving the sentence hanging.

Wednesday stared at them in silence for a few moments, her impassive gaze betraying her impatience. "I don't care in the slightest about your problems and if you don't get out of my way immediately, I won't hesitate to make you regret this conversation" the brunette threatens in a low and cold tone.

Ajax and Xavier look at each other in confusion and fear, pondering Addams's words. They both knew Wedsnesday's reputation and the very real danger of being killed by the shorter girl terrified them.

they decided to step aside.

Wednesday continued on her way, completely ignoring them, while the two boys exchanged glances of resignation. The massive wooden doors finally loomed in the distance and the swarm of students' voices faded as she entered the less frequented part of Nevermore.

"WED!" an all-too-familiar voice shouts enthusiastically.

For the third time that day, Wednesday had to stop. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the killer instinct that threatened to surface and put an end to her blonde roommate's irritating exuberance. She was seriously starting to believe that it was a curse cast by her mother, some sort of psychological torture designed to test her patience. Unfortunately, it was far from her favorite torture, and she focused on something she knew would calm her down: you.

"Wednesday," Enid exclaimed, catching up with her with a beaming smile, "I was just looking for you... The Poe Cup is coming up again and we have to defend the title! You'll be there, right? We can't do it without you!"

Wednesday stared at the blonde, impassive. Entering the Poe Cup again was the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew Enid wouldn't give up so easily.

"I'll think about it," she replied, keeping her tone detached. She didn't want to seem too involved, but she didn't want to completely dampen Enid's enthusiasm either.

"Awesome!" Enid clapped her hands, thrilled by the response. Then she walked away, skipping happily down the hallway.

Wednesday watched her go, mentally wondering how Enid managed to maintain all that vitality. With a barely audible sigh, she finally resumed her walk towards the library. The brunette lifts the corners of her lips as she enters her haven of peace, looking at the shelves covered in books and dust.

the sound of footsteps echoes throughout the library, her figure getting lost among the endless avenues of shelves and books of Nevermore. Her diligently runs her fingers through the tomes, grazing their rough and fragile covers, the wisdom that hides within them. The few students who were there were busy reading or studying among the various desks scattered around that place, the silence broken only by the sound of the pages being turned.

but it is among those shelves that she finally sees: you

she knew basically the essential things about you: your name is Y/N; you are a year older than her, you are Italian, you love blue and your power is to control fire. You were very good friends with Yoko, for some strange reason, and you were a person who despite the aura of mystery and darkness that surrounded you, smiled and was kind to everyone.

she noticed you a few days ago and still hasn't figured out who you are. Were you really that nice? what's really bothering you Y/N?

Wednesday watched you intently, savoring your every move. She noticed the way you brushed your hair back from your face, the smile that lit up your face when you read something that excited you, and even the grimaces you made in response to bizarre or banal passages you encountered.

Some might call it stalking, but she's really just trying to understand you better.

her black eyes never left your figure: you were tall, you had a sharp jaw that accentuated your strong face and you had full lips that were somehow always ready to whisper something provocative or sarcastic. at that moment you had chosen to gather your hair in a messy bun, a practical choice but one that added a touch of carefree elegance to your appearance.

you were struggling with a pile of books that seemed to have a life of its own. Some had already fallen, scattering across the floor. You quickly bent down to pick them up, but each attempt only seemed to make things worse.

Were you disorganized or did your hunger for books make you so careless?

Wednesday realized it was the perfect time to come out of hiding. She approached you cautiously, then crouched down and picked up a couple of books. Her cold fingers landed on Wicked Plants: The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother and Other Botanical Atrocities by Amy Stewart, and a thin smile threatened to appear on her lips. She was almost certain that she was the only one, aside from maybe Thornill, who had read that book in the entire school. Finding out that you shared the same literary tastes hit her in a surprisingly pleasant way.

“Here.” Wednesday’s voice was almost a whisper, as if she were intimidated by the idea of an interaction.

your eyes lift from the floor to meet hers.

Wednesday held her breath. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. You looked at her with curiosity, maybe surprise, but there was something in your eyes that made her feel strangely vulnerable.

“Thank you,” you croak embarrassedly, your cheeks pink knowing someone had witnessed your disaster.

“Maybe you should stop devouring more books than you can handle,” Wednesday said venomously. Her words were a wall behind which she hid the slight agitation she was trying to ignore.

you smile. Shouldn't you be annoyed by my answer?

"What's your name?" she asks curiously

Wednesday stared at you for a moment, cold as ever. “Wednesday,” she replied dryly, not giving anything away. But when you smiled again, the brunette felt a shiver run through her mind, one she tried desperately to ignore.

“Happy reading,” Wednesday adds quickly, turning around as she notices the slight look of confusion crossing your face. It was clear that you wanted to continue the conversation, maybe tell her your name, but Wednesday couldn’t stand there beside you without feeling her body boil.

she needed to leave the library and distract her mind

would have continued after the search, with the necessary calm

but there was an unexpected relief in knowing that she now knew her name

just like she knew yours.

A/N: yes I know, very inspired by the YOU series