#what married women search on google

[artdcnaldson]

okay but PLEASE elaborate on Olympics!Art AU

TeeHee

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), feral obsessive behavior, infidelity

A/N: And you would do it too, that’s all I’m saying. Also IMPORTANT note: I love Tashi, she is a mother to many. However this fic has a very obsessive reader who just wants to fuck a married man, at Tashi’s expense

Maybe you were a bad person.

You’d met Art and Tashi Donaldson before— a year back at an event held for Tennis’ rising stars. That was you, some other guys who had done well in the Juniors, a girl from an Ivy League, and more people that fell into the blind spots of your interest..

You must’ve looked so sweet in your formalwear, approaching the couple with shaking hands so you could say just how big of a fan you were. You had no ill intent then, not when you were face to face with two people you’d idolized since you were twelve and watching the Junior US Open. That night you’d taken a deep breath as you stared at the ceiling of your home, feeling like you’d made it.

Sure, Art was handsome, and you’d lived the past decade harboring a massive celebrity crush on him, but he was married, he was untouchable. Art Donaldson oozed that sweet, devoted husband shtick. Anniversary posts, birthday posts, Valentine’s Day posts, Mother’s Day posts. He had a daughter, he posted about how much he loved being a dad.

You were fine accepting that your fantasies of fucking Art Donaldson were strictly fantasies. But that was before you qualified and had to see him every fucking day.

Art Donaldson, who held open doors for you, who talked to you casually, like he might an old friend. Art, who stood in the long line in the food court with you, ate something he probably shouldn’t have, and asked that you don’t tell Tashi.

And you’d smile conspiratorially, and assure him his secret was safe with you. The implication being that you’d keep that secret, and more. As many as he’d ask you to, really.

You’d see him on a practice court, running drills with his wife, and feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. You’d turn away, focus on your own game, practice until your hands were aching and sore.

“Where’s Mrs. Donaldson?” You asked one night after you’d been sexiled and had to sit out in the hallway waiting for your roommate to finish up. Art leaned against the wall, standing tall above you, so you had to crane your neck. You liked that point of view, on your knees looking up at him, you wondered if he liked it too.

“Oh, she’s staying in a very nice, very expensive hotel room with our daughter right now,” he said with a grin. “As soon as my events are done, that’s where I’ll be too.”

“Oh,” you said, bringing an easy smile to your lips. “Well, we’re all glad you’re here now.”

“We?” He questioned.

You gave a coy smile, batting your lashes so sweetly. “Maybe just me.”

There was a strange expression on his face for just a moment. Then he laughed like it was nothing. He wished you a goodnight and good luck in your matches the next morning, and disappeared into his own room.

You medaled in women’s doubles. They published photos of you and your partner biting the silver between your teeth. That same day, Art Donaldson took home gold. You were there to see the very end of his last match— every single collision of racket against ball, every step, every grunt of exertion. Your thighs clenched as you watched, fists balled up in the fabric of your skirt.

You wanted him in a needy, desperate sort of way. Like a groupie for a rock band, or a virgin being sacrificed on a mountaintop. You watched him celebrate with a kiss from Tashi and felt that same need like an open wound. Jealousy was festering in you like a rot.

The dive bar wasn’t what you’d expected. Something Art had found with a quick google search and a few minutes with a translation app. He’d knocked on your door to invite you, wearing the beaming smile of someone on top of the world.

“So you’ll come?” He asked after he told you all about it.

“Mhmm,” you said, heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ll come.”

And there you were— in a dress that hardly qualified as such— standing so close to him that you could smell his expensive cologne. His arm would brush yours, he’d glance over and apologize with a warm hand to your arm. You’d clench your thighs together and peer at him through your lashes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.

A few of the other players disappeared to play darts, or watch the late night coverage of the other sports still competing. You stuck by Art’s side, happily allowing his attention to fall on you completely.

“I saw parts of your doubles final,” he said finally. He was drinking a brand of beer you’d never seen before— something local, you supposed. “You looked beautiful out there.” Your eyes lit up, and then he added. “The way you were playing, I mean— it was phenomenal.”

“Well, I’m no gold medalist,” you said. You let your hand rest on his arm, and looked up at him. The fingers on your other hand toyed with the edge of the medal, warm from where it had been flush against his chest.

He swallowed. You felt his muscles flex beneath your touch, but he didn’t discourage it. Not one fucking bit.

It wasn’t lost on you that Tashi wasn’t there. Not that it was really her type of venue, from what you had gathered. It wasn’t lost on you that Art Donaldson was at a dive bar, drinking random Brazilian beers, instead of celebrating with his wife, with his daughter. Fuck all those posts on his instagram— if he really was a good husband, a faithful one… that’s the only place he’d want to be.

“I saw your match too. I ran right over after my ceremony to watch,” you confessed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else— you were standing so close to him that you were nearly pressed completely into his body.

His lips twitched in interest. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Mhmm. It was incredible. You were so dominant out there, just taking what was rightfully yours.”

He swallowed again, gravitating closer. Your tits were practically spilling out of your dress— he probably got the perfect eyeful when he eased you closer with a firm hand on your lower back, when he looked down at you through blown pupils.

“You looked so fucking hot out there, Art,” you said, lips brushing against his jawline. “You can’t even imagine how it felt sitting there, watching you win. How turned on I got… how wet.”

Art exhaled a shuddery breath. “Jesus Christ.”

It must’ve been a while since he had someone want him this bad, you thought. Clearly he needed it— needed a pretty, sweet thing to tell him just how much they wanted him. You could be that. You could do that.

“I’m not wearing panties,” you whispered in his ear. His grip on you tightened and you had to suppress a giddy smile. “You can feel if you want. I won’t tell.”

He swore under his breath and glanced around. Everyone was too occupied or drunk to give a shit about what the two of you were up to.

He grabbed your hand, pulled you away into the bathroom. You looked pretty even then, in the flickering lights, sat up on the edge of the sink eagerly awaiting his attention.

When he wrenched your thighs apart, he was greeted by the pretty sight of your glistening cunt— sticky with arousal and need. His hand fit there perfectly, right where you needed it.

“Fuck,” you gasped. His fingers rubbed through your slit— wet and hot and aching for him. Your head fell back, knocking against the dirty mirror. “Want you to use me— whatever you want, just take it.”

And you meant it too. This was your teenage idol— a man you’d touched yourself to the thought of countless times. He owned your body, your sexuality, as much as you did. It was only fair he took from it whatever he pleased.

You watched with hungry eyes as he fumbled with the button of his pants, then shoved them down just enough to free his dick.

Your mouth fucking watered with the need to feel it on your tongue, nudging against the back of your throat. You weren’t opposed to begging— you nearly started before you got it into your hand.

Warm, thick, pulsing. Precum beaded at his tip, so you smeared it around the sensitive head of his cock with your thumb. He groaned, bucked into your fist once, twice before he moved your hand.

“Spread your legs wider for me,” he said, slapping the inside of your thighs. You obeyed wordlessly, spreading yourself out invitingly. He pressed closer, so you felt him rutting his dick against your pussy, coating it in your arousal. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

The words came out with equal parts disgust and awe. He probably thought you were a slut with the way you were throwing yourself at him. You wished he’d just call you that, spit it in your face.

Your cunt pulsed with need, aching to be filled up finally. The culmination of years of fantasizing. Art pressed himself against your entrance, sinking himself into you with the slow reverence of a man who liked making love.

He buried himself inside of you and had to stop moving to keep from cumming then and there. He was a perfect image of restraint— the way his fingers dimpled the flesh of your hips in a bruising grip.

Art wanted to be a gentleman— to give you time to adjust to the size of him, to ease you into it and let the pleasure be a slow, soft burn. He pulled out nice and easy, slid himself into your wet, throbbing cunt. That was all fine and good, but you knew it was just pretense. You were laid out and wanting, begging for him to use you as his own personal toy.

“I’m not your wife, Art.” You met his gaze, locked your ankles around his waist. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

The first thrust, the first real one, knocked the air from your lungs. That silence didn’t last long— because you got what you wanted— he was really fucking you, bullying his cock into your pussy with the same need and desperation that you felt.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve— fuck— you’ve got no fucking self respect, huh?” He pounded into you, leveraging his grip to pull you against him, really impale you on his dick.

The moan that escaped you was pornographic. If he kept talking to you like that, if he kept fucking you like that, you’d cum.

“You don’t even care, do you? This fucking pussy’s squeezing me so tight— you fucking love this,” His voice was strained, interrupted by groans and pants.

You moaned, eyes rolling back. “Love this,” you echoed. When you looked down, at the sight of him splitting you open, of the ring of creamy arousal circling the base of his dick, you felt dizzy. Like you were standing on top of a tall building and looking down. Sort of out of body, tethered in the present by brutal thrusts into your pussy and the wet, slapping sounds of your bodies joining.

Your fingers moved between your thighs, rubbing needy and insistent at your clit. So close to finishing that you wanted to cry and just ask to start over again, that you’d savor it more a second time.

“Gonna cum,” he groaned suddenly. You felt him start to pull out, to leave. It wasn’t fucking fair.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck— not yet, you didn’t want it to end like that. “I have an IUD,” you lied through your teeth. You used your legs, pulled him closer, deeper. “Just keep going, don’t stop. I’m right there.”

He moaned against your throat— holding you tight, fucking into you with animal need. Your fingers moved against your clit with an insistent need. It didn’t take much to push you over the edge. Your moans so loud that Art had to put his medal between your lips to shut you up.

And you were so pliant— letting him drill into your aching, used cunt, your mouth tasting like metal. You felt his rhythm falter— one, two harsh thrusts that knocked muffled moans from you until he came, painting your insides thick, creamy white.

He stayed buried inside of you for a while— panting, doing his best to catch his breath. You spat out the medal and it fell back against his chest, spit slick and shining. You reached up, ran your fingers along his face, reverently, sweetly. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and you tucked it away with delicate fingers.

When he pulled out, you felt that sinking feeling of loss and jealousy in your chest. He redressed in silence, turned away like he couldn’t stand to look at you, or the mirror. Shame rolled off of him in waves that you wanted to brush away.

It wasn’t bad, you’d assure him. You’re a tennis star, you’re the greatest in the world. You should have whatever you want, whenever you want it.

But you didn’t say that. You just tidied yourself up as best as you could and slipped back out into the bar. If anyone noticed, they said nothing.

[gurugirl]

Nympho | poly!nympho!harry

Summary: Y/n is a nymphomaniac who just loves people. One day she happens upon a "harem" arrangement that seems perfect for her and her insatiable appetite. Loosely based on this Tumblr request.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This has already been released on my Patreon. This is the first part of an au that follows Y/n as she explores a new kind of relationship with 9 other females and Harry. All subsequent parts will only be posted on Patreon.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, voyeurism (consented), exhibitionism, multiple partners

Y/n had a problem on her hands. A problem few knew about. In fact, so few people knew of her problem that it was limited to only herself and her therapist. And one accidental drunken confession to a stranger at a bar.

She was what the medical world called someone with compulsive sexual behavior. In other words, a nymphomaniac.

She laughed when her therapist told her the opinion. Hypersexuality. Nymphomania.

Y/n always thought she was more just a young woman with a high libido. A libido no one could match. No one she’d met anyway. She couldn't keep a boyfriend or girlfriend long enough because they couldn’t meet her needs. Sexually.

She just really needed it all the time.

And of course, there’s not a cure for such a thing. Therapy, antidepressants maybe (she had no interest in this route), meditation…

Her Google searches on ways to soothe herself in between dry spells or times when she was purposely trying to “detox” only rendered stupid articles and based medical opinions.

So instead of trying to deny herself of her natural urges she went down a rabbit hole on the internet and found that there were plenty of others just like herself.

She wound up coming across a private members-only forum where people could vent about their frustrations and even meet up with others to sate their desires. Not everyone on the forum was a nymphomaniac like herself. Some were seeking particular relationships. There were those looking for a third. One was seeking a partner to slap them across the face. But there was a section for those with high libidos and nymphomaniacs.

The problem with some on that forum was that they were married and looking for something discreet to have on the side. In other words, they were looking to cheat. Y/n wasn’t interested in that. She didn’t want to hurt anyone or sneak around that way.

She was a silent observer for a while. Reading posts and learning all about the way people dealt with their own problems.

The Meet & Greet section of the forum was interesting. Most of the posts were private, invite-only, or by request-only so she wasn't able to see all of them. But she came across a sort of invitation.

Seeking open-minded females to join my household. Open and loving relationships only. Poly. Inquire for more information. No judgment.

She knew she was probably polyamorous. She liked multiple partners and would grow close to anyone she had sex with but also had no issues knowing her partners had sex with others.

So she clicked the ad, filled out the short informational survey and included a photo of herself (her cutest), requested to join the conversation, and waited until she was approved.

A response came back within only minutes.

She learned that the man who placed the ad was wealthy and living with many women in a kind of poly arrangement. Living in his mansion (pictures of his estate included) with him were 9 women. They all shared one another sexually and emotionally. All the sex one could want while also being financially taken care of.

She received a picture of Harry and each of the 9 women.

It seemed almost too good to be true. But she couldn’t pass up the chance to meet with them and find out more.

.           .           .

She’d busted her ass at work that day. She worked at a bakery so her mornings were early. And Saturday mornings were the most grueling. The line out of the shop by 10 am was usually 20 people deep. And that day was no different.

The nice part about working at a bakery was that she was usually off work by 1 pm. On Saturdays sometimes they sold out by noon.

She showered and threw on a dress and dried her hair before rushing to pour her coffee into a travel mug and set Harry’s address into her phone as she jumped into her car.

He told her that there was no rush to meet him by 3 but she hated being late. She was also quite anxious to meet everyone. To see what the setup was and find out if it was legit.

She did google the man of course. He was extremely wealthy and attractive. Did some charity work. There wasn’t too much about him. But he seemed to be credible.

When she arrived at the destination she was floored. She stopped her car in front of the tall gates and gawked at the details along the iron and stone. She couldn’t see beyond the gate but suddenly they began to slowly open up. The long driveway stretched into the property lined with trees and lovely landscaped shrubs with a fountain or two but when the trees parted and the drive wound into a circle in front of the home it was like something out of a movie.

She couldn’t even count the levels of the place. 3? 4 or maybe 5? It was difficult to tell from her little car.

She pulled the break lever and parked before getting out and staring up at the details on the façade of the mansion.

“Hi! Y/n?” A woman at the door greeted her with a smile as she descended the steps.

“Hi! Yes, I’m Y/n,” she waved and held her hand out to shake but the woman, who smelled like vanilla and amber pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m Chanel. We hope you feel comfortable here. Harry’s just inside,” she gestured toward the house and led Y/n up the steps and into the impressive entry with a double staircase, high ceilings, and marble floors. The place was immaculate.

Chanel took Y/n’s hand and guided her to another room where there were a few women, scantily clad and laughing, and then the man, who she was positive was Harry.

His light green eyes, wide grin, and dimples were gorgeous.

“Y/n,” he put his arms out toward her, “It’s so nice to finally see you in person,” he hugged her and kissed her cheek sweetly.

She was already feeling all the love from everyone. The other women that were in the room all hugged her and greeted her as well.

Harry showed her a few areas of the house as he gave her a rundown of how things worked.

“We all love and respect one another. No one in this house is off limits to anyone unless someone is having a day where they need to be alone but that’s rare. Everyone here likes sex a lot. We do things in the open here. Sometimes in private. I like to watch the girls playing and they enjoy watching me as well. We don’t like a lot of secrets here when it comes to sex.”

Y/n nodded and tried to imagine what that might look like. It sounded like a hot fantasy that only happened in porn.

“For example, this morning I had three of my lovers in bed with me and I woke up horny, as I always do and the one closest to me got my cock while the other two got off watching us. The other girls were in their rooms doing nasty things to one another as well,” he looked at her and grinned, “That’s kind of how things go here. Sex after dinner, before dinner. Right on the kitchen counter as someone is making dinner next to us.”

“Wow. That sounds incredible. Like a dream.” She said as she looked at his huge kitchen and two girls followed behind them.

“Would you like to see it in action? Right now Alana and Sasha are fucking in the TV room. I was just watching them before you arrived and I’m sure they’re still going at it. Up to you.”

She nodded. Everything about this situation felt like something she could quickly settle into. She’d love to have her days filled with sex and watching others and exploring.

Harry put his arm over Y/n’s shoulder and nudged her closer, “Don’t be shy,” he whispered as he walked them toward the TV room. Y/n could hear the girls moaning and the soft slick sounds that came with sex.

“Alana has the black hair, and Sasha is the one with the collar,” Harry explained.

Alana was on all fours as was Sasha who was eating her out from behind. Sasha was also using a dildo on herself as she steadied her body with one hand, face stuffed into Alana’s pussy and working the dildo in and out.

Alana turned to see Y/n and Harry and her lips were parted, “H… Hi…” she panted and then swayed her hips over Sasha’s face.

Y/n brought her hand up to wave, “Hi.”

She’d never been in a situation quite like this. She’d participated in sex parties, orgies, and the like, but to be part of a household where everyone has access to one another all day was a new concept.

“No one that lives here works. That’s another rule. No working. We all need to have access at all times, unless, like I said someone needs some space or a day alone. But really, this just means I don’t want anyone under my care to worry about money or stress about a job. I take care of everything.”

She looked from Harry back to the girls who were enjoying themselves in front of everyone. It was making her horny. Well, she was always horny, but seeing soft curves and breasts, and hearing their gasps and groans of ecstasy was making her panties wet.

She both loathed and loved her condition. Loathed it when she wasn’t in a spot to take care of herself. Loved it when she was.

“So it’s you and 9 women here right now?”

Harry nodded and put his hand on the back of her neck, gently squeezing, “That’s right. I’m open to as many as fit into our lifestyle here. I have sex with each girl every day. Sometimes all of us participate together. Some days I want to have sex with one of them a few times. Depends on the day.”

Y/n looked up at the man. His jawline was sharp. She was already hot and feeling achy and he was so attractive and looked so yummy to her. In fact, everyone she’d seen so far looked quite appealing. She’d be happy if Chanel who was just to her right had her way with her.

“No one ever gets jealous?” Y/n inquired.

Harry shook his head, “No. if jealousy does arise, this may not be the right situation. I have had some partners in the past who were invited but wound up not being able to handle it. And that’s okay. They didn’t know that they’d feel so jealous so we parted ways.”

She nodded and licked her lips as she set her gaze on the wet dildo that was being moved in and out of Sasha’s pussy.

“How does this all make you feel right now?” Harry asked.

“It sounds amazing. And I’m really turned on seeing this.”

“Yeah? Me too. Your survey said you were a nymphomaniac so you must be quite ready for a good fucking about right now. It’s up to you if you like this setup but I would like to bring you to my room and give you a preview of what you could expect.”

Y/n looked up at Harry and she could see his pupils were blown out and his lips were dark pink. She swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. That would be fun. I don’t mind if anyone watches, though. I’m very open.”

Harry licked his lips and drew his gaze over her face, “Then I’ll leave my bedroom door open.”

She followed Harry up the stairs and to his large bedroom. But as they passed the other rooms, she noted all the bedrooms were large. Huge in fact. Lots of toys and contraptions set up.

But Harry’s room was tame compared to some of the other spaces. His bed was massive and he did have cuff bars at the head of his bed as well as a bar that hung from his ceiling.

She felt someone behind her touch her shoulder, “Can I help you out of your dress?”

She turned to the woman and smiled as she nodded, “Sure. What’s your name?”

The woman took the bottom hem of Y/n’s dress and began to lift it, “Carrie. You’re beautiful, Y/n. Thank you for letting me see you.”

When her dress was off, Carrie lay it over a chair so it didn’t wrinkle and Harry stood before Y/n with his shirt off and all his tattoos that she had no idea existed were on display. Dark scatterings of tattoos in different styles. His left arm littered in them.

But even more impressive was his body. Well-toned, muscular, lean. Harry moved his hands behind her back and unhooked her bra like an expert as he kissed her neck. She could feel puffs of his warm breath against her skin as she closed her eyes and stretched her neck out for his access as she placed her hands on his shoulders. He lowered his mouth to her clavicle and then to her breasts when she felt his fingers in the band of her panties to pull them off her legs. He pressed his mouth to her tummy and once her panties were on the floor around her ankles he pulled her to his bed, “How do you want it, Y/n? What do you like?” He began to take his pants off as he asked her and she scooted into the bed.

“God I like so many things. Let me suck you off first. It’s gonna make me drip and then I want to be fucked.”

Harry watched her as he dragged his underwear down and his heavy cock drooped. He was thick and fully hard but unlike the last man she slept with, his cock couldn’t stand upward because it was too large. She moaned and reached for him as he climbed up to her on the bed.

“Whatever you want. Is it okay if Carrie eats you out while you suck me off? I can tell she wants to play too,” he looked behind himself at Carrie and then back to Y/n.

“Oh… yes! Do you want to, Carrie?” Y/n asked.

“It would be my pleasure.” Carried sauntered toward the bed and got onto her knees to wait until Harry and Y/n were in position.

Harry lay on his back and spread his legs as he ran his palm over himself, pumping down to the base of his pretty cock. His thighs looked strong and healthy. Harry’s abs were begging for her tongue so she climbed between his legs and did just that. She licked upward over his abs and kissed as she went, “God your body is something I can worship,” Y/n moaned as she grasped onto his thighs and worked her tongue over his skin and his tattoos.

Harry softly moaned and then put his hand into Y/n’s hair, pulling her away from his abs, “I’ll give you five minutes on my cock. And then I’m gonna fuck you, okay darling?”

It was bliss. Y/n had participated in group sex but this felt so right. She tasted Harry’s prick, licking down to his balls, and then licked and kissed his scrotum. She stuffed her mouth with his sac and moaned around him. Harry gasped. Carrie had laid on her back with her face up with Y/n’s pussy pressed into her face as Y/n sucked and licked Harry up.

Carrie’s soft warm tongue and her lips felt like relief on her aching, wet pussy. But once Y/n finally put Harry’s cock into her mouth and got into a good pace Carrie had to get onto her knees and lean into Y/n from behind to keep licking at her cunt.

Y/n wretched the tiniest bit as she lowered over him as far as she could and sucked as she lifted upward, only to repeat her wet tongue and warm mouth encasing his cock and then gagging as his tip reached to the back of her throat and she pushed even further to make his cock reach deeper.

“That’s five minutes,” Harry panted his words as pulled her up and drew her in for a wet kiss.

Carrie moved herself to the foot of the bed and took her panties off before she began running her fingers over her pussy.

He picked up the condom that was conveniently on his bedside table, “We’ll use condoms until everything is all worked out,” he began to put the condom over his cock, “We want to make sure you’re happy here and this is what you really want and then you’ll get tested for STDs and we’ll make sure you're one a good birth control. Once that’s out of the way,” he tossed the wrapper onto the nightstand, “Everything will be raw. I like coming inside my girls and they like to walk around dripping of it or have it eaten out of them.” His grin was a little cocky but Y/n could see why. He was living the dream. They all were.

She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her as she laid on her back and Harry fit himself between her thighs. He gently pressed his thumb through her slick crease and then put it into his mouth to taste before running his fingers over her clit.

Y/n moaned and bucked her hips upward as she kept her eyes on his pretty green ones.

“Want my cock, Y/n?” He painted his condom-covered prick through her folds and up over her clit.

“I need it. Need to come so bad.”

Harry looked down to her pussy and grasped his base as he lined himself up with her. Y/n couldn’t see Carrie but she could hear how wet she was and her small moans as Harry finally slid inside.

“Fuck… I think you belong here, Y/n,” he gritted as he backed out and then pushed back into her, his tip reaching into her guts deliciously.

She nodded in response as Harry’s intense eyes were locked on hers, “Yes…”

Harry worked himself into Y/n, getting deeper on each plunge until his hips were pasted to hers and he was fucking into her, pushing her up gently with each rock of his hips.

Harry was breathing hard as he paused and took Y/n’s thighs and pressed them into her chest so he could fuck down into her with deep, painful strokes. The pain was welcome. Y/n loved getting her guts rearranged by a man with a big cock just as much as she loved the soft and delicate lips and fingers of a woman. All forms were welcome. But she did prefer her men with big cocks. Women were better lovers in general and she would never be able to choose if she liked men or women better. All she knew was that Harry’s cock was exactly what she wanted in a man.

She squeaked when he began to rail into her, her pussy walls sucking him in and squeezing as he drove into her.

Harry’s rhythmic breath with each of his thrusts was sexy. She loved to hear a man enjoying her body.

“Oh, Y/n…” he grunted, “I’m not letting you leave. I’m gonna need this pussy every day.”

She moaned loudly and all she could get out was a gurgled, “Yes!” It was hard to get much breath into her lungs with the way Harry had her folded in half and the pace at which he was pounding into her.

“Yeah? You wanna be my new girl? Have lots of girlfriends and one boyfriend, Y/n? Get cock and pussy every day?”

Tears fell from her face as she blubbered and moaned a resounding, “Yes!”

Carrie was gasping her words as she fingered herself to the view, “Oh god! That looks like it feels so good!”

“It does feel good. You like watching her pussy get fucked, baby?” Harry spoke to Carrie as he released Y/n’s legs so her feet fell flat to the mattress.

“Yes! Oh, Daddy! I want to watch it every day! Please!”

With the change of position and Y/n’s knees bent, her feet on the mattress Harry’s groin rubbed into her clit and she felt that spark of the finale approaching. She’d been so on edge since she arrived at Harry’s home and then seeing Sasha and Alana fucking in front of her and now with Carrie watching and Harry’s cock punching into her tummy in hard and long strokes she was simply in outer space. Her body was receiving his big cock and her clit was stimulated like she needed.

“Feel it, Y/n?” Harry ground into her with his eyes on hers, rolling his hips sensually and making sure he was smushing into her button. He knew what he was doing. He knew his cock felt good inside of her and that once he added the stimulation of her clit she’d be coming soon. All his girls loved his cock. Loved their clit touched while he was inside of them. And he could see it was no different with Y/n.

“Harry, yes! I feel you. It feels so good. I’m gonna come…”

Harry groaned loudly and slammed his hips into hers. He massaged her tits as he kept himself still for a moment to catch his breath, “You wanna come, Y/n? Like how it feels?”

“I do! Harry, please…” she begged as she bucked her hips up into him to get him to start moving. She was so close.

Harry grunted a laugh and circled his hips, digging his cock into her cervix and she hissed at the ache, “You don’t even have to beg here unless that’s what you like. I’m always gonna make you come, Y/n.” He was breathing hard as he spoke.

“I want it every day. I love this. I want her next,” Y/n lifted her neck and made eye contact with Carrie who was softly cooing. She’d already come but she was still rubbing her pussy and moving her hips.

“Then you can have it. And Carrie too if you want.”

Y/n moaned and nodded as Harry began to move again. Inching back and then pressing himself into the hilt. Over and over again until it was skin smacking wetly and loud choked moans and gasps.

Her tits bounced back and forth as Harry ravaged her pussy, fucking into her perfectly until she clamped down on his cock and began to pulse around him, pussy fluttering and gushing as she cried out.

“That’s it, Y/n… Come for me… just like that… good girl…” he watched her face screw up as she orgasmed and he held himself back. He could have released into his condom but he wanted Y/n to feel everything the way it was meant to be felt. The inner walls of her spasming cunt, pressing and pulling Harry’s cock in as she rammed into her turned her into a melted puddle.

When she opened her eyes she saw Harry watching her with a grin, “Want to eat my come out of Carrie’s pussy?”

Y/n moaned and nodded, “Fuck yes.”

She sat up as Harry pulled himself out and removed his condom. He dragged Carrie toward him by her ankles and the girl laughed with a squeal. Y/n loved this. She was feeling so good after her orgasm and now she was about to get to play with another person and eat come from the pretty girl’s pussy. It was a dream.

She watched as Harry flipped her over to her tummy and swatted her bottom, Carrie laughed and angled her hips so Harry could enter her.

He leaned over Carrie and spoke lowly, but still loud enough for Y/n to hear, “Such a good fucking little girl for me, baby. Want Daddy’s cock and his come?”

She whined and lifted her hips again, hoping he’d just enter her, “Yes, Daddy!”

Y/n wondered if all the girls called him daddy or if it was different depending on the girl.

With Carrie’s tummy pressed into the mattress, Harry spread her cheeks and plunged into her in one go as she grunted and moaned.

Y/n climbed up closer to watch Carrie’s pussy spread open for Harry’s bare cock and she was immediately horny again.

He rocked into her and he moaned softly until his thrusts grew sloppy, his hips were jerking and he began to whimper, “Oh shit… Fucking gonna come, baby,” he panted, “Y/n… I’m coming inside of her, watch,” he whined as he gripped Carrie's hips and Y/n could see Harry’s balls tighten and throb as he released into Carrie.

Carrie moaned into the blankets below her face as Harry coughed out a loud groan. It was so hot. She loved having such a good view of two people having sex.

When Harry pulled out with his chest still heaving he grabbed Y/n’s hand, “She’s all yours now, Y/n. Filled with my come.”

Y/n smoothed her hands over Carrie’s soft bottom and lifted her hips up before she tongued up and down Carrie’s entrance, first tasting Carrie’s slick arousal and then as Harry’s come began to drip out of her opening she caught it and swallowed it down little by little as he leaked from her.

“Get on your back so I can really eat you out,” Y/n directed Carrie.

Harry sat up against his headboard and watched the girls. Carrie spread her legs as she was on her back and Y/n stuffed her fingers inside, watching Harry’s come coat her fingers as she pushed it back inside of Carrie slowly.

When she put her mouth back onto Carrie she slurped his come from her. There was a lot. But Carrie was loving the attention as she rolled her hips and moaned.

Y/n used her tongue to clean up as much of Carrie as she could but Carrie was so wet and slippery it was quite the task. A yummy task, but still.

When she felt Harry’s hands on her hips she turned to look at him.

“I’m gonna eat you out while you eat her out and then I’m gonna fuck you again because I’m ready for round two already. Okay?”

Y/n grinned widely. She had hit the jackpot with this setup unless it was just a dream. But she would revel in it as long as she could. She put her lips around Carrie’s clit as she felt Harry’s fingers inside of her cunt before he lapped her up with his tongue.

She was sure she would enjoy living this way with Harry and all the girls. She couldn’t wait to try each one of them out. But for now, Carrie tasted diving and Harry’s tongue was magic and she needed to put in her two week’s notice at the bakery.

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this and would like more I'd be so grateful to you for joining my Patreon!! xoxo

Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @icumforbaldrry

[shakespearean-dream]

last of the big five yall!!!!

happy late fourth of july! remember to keep boycotting, speak out and listen to palestinians, the people of congo, native americans, queer/trans people and women currently being oppressed this independence day because america fucking sucks!!! 🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅🔥🔥🔥

here are a couple good places to donate! please remember to do your own research and take care of each other, it’s getting scary out here.

ohhhh nimdok, where to start with you….

i have been dreading doing him because he pisses me off so bad but i actually had some decent fun with him :D. designing him and branching out farther away from his canon self was nice, but im not touching his backstory or personality really, that stays about the same for me in my head.

speaking of whichhh! like benny, i understand how the game makers had a short amount of time to fit an entire character arc of an old man undoing his deeply internalized racism/xenophobia/ableism in a singular short scenario, but unlike benny i actually somehow like his better?? nimdok had a lot more to get over (well not saying being a dickhead murderer isn’t a lot but 😭) and i enjoyed seeing him actually help out the people he would’ve previously turned in. it still feels a little hollow/unrealistic because again, he’s been like this his whole life, but considering how much AM takes him away from the group to (most likely) psychologically torture him for his actions he’s probably had a bit of a revelation.

doing his scenario was unfortunately funny at times because of the strange way we had to go about redeeming him with the golem guy😭giving him a smooch caught me off guard but ykw? i’ll take it for being able to kill mengele like immediately afterward. also speaking of whichhhh…

i would go into more detail about nimdok and mengeles relationship to give it some depth because god i love me some queers, but that is??? a real fucking guy???? a real life monster???? im less than comfortable picturing the fucker in my mind, much less giving him depth with a character who i also don’t like. like why ship ur essentially OC with a REAL LIFE N/AZI??? just another one of the reasons harlan elision creeps me out. (if that just pissed you off google search him s/a-ing 2 people, marrying a 19 year old when he was in his 40s and defending a child r/apist i really don’t feel like arguing with you. the guy was a horrible fucking person and he makes me sick, i just like this franchise.)

i cannot cough up anymore thoughts about this fella pls forgive me; these past couple days have been rough on my 3 brain cells. AM will for sure be next and after that fully rendered/decked out full bodies are in order!! so look out for that:]]]] i may also start posting some art fight things since i was just complaining about the lag a post or so ago☺️ jk ily artfight. team seafoam lets goo

ok i love u guys!!! if u have any requests for me drop a comment or an ask, and thank you so much for the continued support on my art❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ lots of links on this post but one more quick reminder to take a look at my commission page if you’d like!!! yolanda is still in the shop because they cannot figure out what’s wrong with her :(

have a good night friends 🫶

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 29

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Tori and I met up on my lunch break the following afternoon. I filled her in about the mishap with James the night before and she visibly cringed.

“Ouch.” She made a face. “That was a bold way to shoot his shot.”

“I felt so bad,” I admitted, “I still feel bad.” I twirled a French fry in ketchup and popped it into my mouth.

“Did you tell Joel?”

I nodded. “The night before I had gotten a card that was left on my car with no name. I thought it was this creepy guy Trevor from class.”

“Who’s creepy Trevor?”

“He's just this brown noser type of guy. I saw him lurking behind the building one night when I left and then he, like, popped out of the library stacks at me out of the blue.”

“Red flag, red flag.” Tori made invisible check marks in the air with her finger. “What if he's the lady killer?” That's what the papers and news outlets had branded the person responsible for the two dead women.

“Lately, I think everyone is the lady killer.” I huffed a laugh and shook my head. I changed the subject. “Are you and Derek doing anything for Valentine's Day tonight?”

“We’re going to see an early movie and then going out for cocktails and some apps.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Where’s Mr. Gold Coins taking you?” She asked with a laugh as she forked a bite of chicken from her salad, “Paris?”

I laughed. “We’re going to a place called Lake Kora.”

“Where's that?”

I shrugged and reached for the second half of my turkey wrap and took a hearty bite.

“You didn't Google it?”

I shook my head and continued to chew.

“Do I have to teach you everything?” Tori eyed me and began typing away on her phone. “How do you spell it?”

“L-a-k-e,” I began, smirking at her as she flicked my hand.

“Smartass, I know how to spell ‘lake'. What about the second part?”

“K-o-r-a.”

Tori eyed her tiny screen and began flicking her finger until she seemed satisfied. “Hmm..”

“What?” I arched my neck and she turned her phone part way.

“Looks nice.” She scrolled through photos. “Is he going to put, like, rose petals all over the bed? Feed you chocolate covered strawberries?”

I nearly spit the bite of my sandwich out and the two of us began laughing, drawing looks from other customers in the little sandwich shop.

“Sorry,” Tori whispered with a hand up, still chuckling as she took a sip of her iced tea to compose herself.

“Maybe we can double date some time soon,” I suggested.

“I gotta get a feel for this guy,” she nodded in agreement and poked around through her lettuce in search of a crouton. “What's going on next weekend?”

“His sister is getting married. We’re going to Vermont for the long weekend.”

Tori raised her eyebrows. “Wow.”

I nodded. “I was nervous to go but I met her recently and we hit it off, so..” I shrugged.

My friend pointed her fork in my direction. “If this guy ends up breaking your heart, I'll break his neck.” Tori paused, “Well, I’ll get someone to do it because I probably wouldn't be able to.”

I have a closed-mouth smile. “I hope this is all what it seems; because I'm totally caught up.”

“I know you are.” She nodded, “I've never seen you like this.”

“I know.” I ate another French fry and sipped on my Diet Dr. Pepper. “It's a little scary.”

Tori gave a genuine smile. “I guess life should be about taking chances.. and following your heart.” She raised her styrofoam cup, “To the next step?”

I tapped my cup against hers. “To the next step.”

The ride to ‘up-upstate’ with Dr. Miller late that afternoon had me excited for the weekend ahead. We took the truck, loaded up with snacks and even stopped at a little hockey store to purchase two pairs of ice skates. I couldn’t wait to go ice skating. It had been so long since I’d been but I was sure I’d pick it up again - like second nature.

“Want a coffee?” Dr. Miller motioned to a little shop beside the hockey store, “Or hot chocolate?” He grinned and took my hand when I nodded. We wandered into the shop and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans hit me like a wave.

My eyes scanned a chalkboard with an endless array of choices. There were your typical French Vanilla flavors and Hazelnuts. And then the list trickled down to pistachio, white chocolate almond, blueberry and peppermint mocha.

“I’ll do a medium black coffee with a shot of espresso,” Dr. Miller ordered. “And a package of the chocolate covered espresso beans.”

When I spotted a banana mocha chocolate espresso, I was sold. Half hot chocolate, half coffee with the sweetness of the banana. Sign me up.

Dr. Miller smiled at me and gently squeezed the back of my neck as I ordered. I leaned into him and our hands found one another’s again after getting our orders and walking out.

“I can’t wait to get up there,” I told him when we got back in the car. I sipped my drink after giving the entrance to the cup a gentle blow and then set it in the cup holder. When Dr. Miller reached for my hand again, I squeezed his. I loved how he had to touch me at all times - whether holding my hand, squeezing my neck, or resting a hand on my knee as he drove.

He popped open the little bag of espresso beans and then reached over, prepared to place one in mouth.

I accepted, purposely sucking the pad of thumb for an extra second and Dr. Miller smiled at me. I almost giggled, thinking about Tori’s comment about the chocolate covered strawberries but I just grinned and looked out the window, relinking my hand with his.

Honestly, I didn't want the car ride to end. Until it did, and the A-frame lake house we would be staying in came into view.

Okay, I'm ready for the car ride to end.

The frozen lake stretched out, what looked like, for miles as he pulled down the long, rocky driveway.

Dr. Miller pulled the truck up beside the house and I got a glimpse of a hot tub on the front deck. He turned to glance at me and I couldn't help but smile.

“Come on.” He nodded his head toward the cabin and opened his door.

I eagerly trailed him up to the rental property. Neither of us bothered to grab our belongings yet. The sting of the cold weather felt refreshing on my cheeks on the short walk to the front door.

Dr. Miller punched a code into a little black box beside the door and a silver key popped out as the front of it opened.

“Do you own this house, too?” I had to ask, but he smiled and shook his head.

“I know as much about it as you do.” He slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, pulling me inside by the hand as he flipped on the main lights. It was like something from Pinterest or “hashtag cabin” on any number of social media outlets.

An oversized television sat above a stone fireplace to the right. A small collection of couches and chairs faced it, only split up by a shag throw rug. Above it hung a giant rustic chandelier. Overlooking the living room area was a loft that was accessible by a winding staircase and beneath the loft, straight ahead, was a cozy, modern kitchen with low ceilings.

“What do you think?” Dr. Miller put his hands on my shoulders from behind, and I reached up and placed one hand over his.

“I think we should stay here for a week.”

“Or two,” he added.

“Or two.” I nodded in agreement and looked over my shoulder at him. “Thank you. This is amazing.. again.”

“Let's get our bags.”

I followed him back to the car and he carried as much as he could, leaving me with just the ice skates that I set down on the couch in the living room area. We unloaded the little bit of food we’d brought up for the short stay and then towed the suitcases up the windy stairs to the lofty bedroom.

“Feel like some dusk ice skating?” Dr. Miller asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Is it safe?”

“I've been checking the weather all week,” he explained, “It's been in the teens and twenties.” Dr. Miller nodded, “There were some people out there when we drove up. Should be frozen solid.”

“Well, then, I can't wait.” My hands fell down into his and I bent at the hip to kiss him firmly on the lips. When I slowly dropped to my knees in front of him, working at the buckle of his belt, Dr. Miller looked down at me with a half, closed-mouth grin.

He sighed and arched his hips so I could shove his pants down to his ankles before closing his eyes as he stood back up. “Alright,” he agreed with a second deep breath.

“Unless you want to get right out onto the ice..” I teased.

Dr. Miller opened his eyes again and looked down at me. “It'll still be there in five minutes.”

“Five?” My hand wrapped around him now and I took him partway into my mouth. I guessed longer.

He groaned and smiled with his eyes closed. “Maybe three.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

[swee26oy]

"Was Elia Martell Beautiful"

It must have been the madness that led Aerys to refuse Lord Tywin's daughter and take his son instead, whilst marrying his own son to a feeble Dornish princess with black eyes and a flat chest. (Cersei, chapter 24 of “A Feast for Crows”)

Here is a character who Take romantic desires for the Dragon Prince, which is rejected and chosen elia instead of her to be his wife. even after her death, Cersei still holds the grudge

But somehow this quote is taken as canon, This is illogical. Depending on Cersei's personality, I can say that she is either lying or exaggerating

Well, here comes my problem. This quote is often taken to say that elia was less than ordinary but she was not beautiful or on the list of beauties of Westeros.

((As a reminder, I am against evaluating women based on their beauty but I am trying to clarify my point))

This list of beauties contains women who were rated less beautiful than elia according to the books. However, elia is ignored in such rankings. Common reasons are the health condition and this quote.

Even when you search on Google, this quote is the most common answer to questions about what elia looked like.

And then you find this :

there wereothers fairerstill.One was the wife of the dragon prince, who’d brought a dozen lady companions to attend her. The knights all begged them for favors to tie about their lances. (Bran, chapter 24 of “A Storm Of Swords”)

Howland Reed is one of the characters who doesn't have any direct ties to elia, So through this quote, Holland describes elia martell's appearance during the Tourney of Harrenhal, probably she was pregnant with Aegon. From this we confirms she was beautiful enough to get all of his attention, despite the presence of many beautiful women during the tourney, most notably Ashara Dayne. elia was beautiful for him to tell his children about her beauty.

In “The World of Ice and Fire”, Maester Yandel compares Lyanna to Elia, stating the she-wolf was "a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia's delicate beauty"

Ulmer, stooped and grey-bearded and loose of skin and limb, stepped to the mark and pulled an arrow from the quiver at his waist. In his youth he had been an outlaw, a member of the infamous Kingswood Brotherhood. He claimed he’d once put an arrow through the hand of the White Bull of the Kingsguard [Ser Gerold Hightower] to steal a kiss from the lips of a Dornish princess. He had stolen her jewels too, and a chest of golden dragons, but it was the kiss he liked to boast of in his cups. (Samwell, chapter 33 of “A Storm of Swords”)

This princess is elia, and she is very beautiful. Where men don't take pride in kissing an ugly woman if she was ugly he would make fun of her appearance and show remorse or disgust. Instead, we get a proud, unrepentant man.

Elia is described in the books as an attractive woman who caught men’s attention. (It seems she doesn't look ugly or ordinary woman)

“….. a young maiden not long at court, one of Elia’s companions … though compared to Ashara Dayne, the Dornish princess was a kitchen drab.”-Barristan Selmy

Ashara Dayne was known as the most beautiful woman in Westeros so being compared to ashara is just another factor that shows how beautiful elia was

She get called "delicate beauty", Sansa Stark beauty called the same. and sansa is beautiful so elia was.

According to all this, elia was extremely beautiful. It is unfortunate that her beauty is belittled and ignored under the pretext of her health condition. condemning the actions of some women is not misogyny, but belittling a woman because of her health condition and using it as an excuse to exonerate her husband’s abandonment of her is certainly hatred and racism.

And saying that rhaegar left elia and chose lyanna over her because she was more beautiful is just a slander that contradicts the facts It based on an idea invented by men to justify his betrayal We have a perfect example of this "Charles chose Camilla over Diana"

[princesssarisa]

I just did a Google search to read different people's opinions on Meg in Little Women.

Most of what I came across were terrible comments, both about Meg and about Little Women in general. Nothing much that I haven't read before, but it still makes me wonder if they read the same book I did.

"No reader really likes Meg. She's just an embodiment of boring traditional femininity."

"'Meg Goes to Vanity Fair' is a terrible chapter. Meg deserves to dress up, go to parties, and drink champagne now and then! She gets shamed just for having fun!"

"Marmee is horrible. She's always shaming her daughters and pressuring them to be too perfect."

"Meg's married life is awful and teaches young girls that adulthood is a slog."

"John Brooke is the real villain of the book."

(Really.)

"Almost every girl wants to be like Jo. A few girls want to be like Amy. No girl wants to be like prim Meg or passive Beth."

And then there was the old chestnut: "Beth has to die because she's not suited to this world."

(I'd like to ask that person: "Is that how you feel about real people with autism, or social anxiety disorder, or whatever undiagnosed mental illness or neurodiversity Lizzie Alcott had?")

I think I might reread the book in full in the coming holiday season. A lot of people read it as their annual Christmas book, and I'd like to reread it so I can argue against these claims more firmly than ever.

[bethanydelleman]

sorry if this is a stupid question, but I was starting to write a story taking place in the regency era, and wanted to do a sort of cliche governess marries the widowed father of her charge. But I wasn't sure how old I should make the girl. My understanding was that a governess would only be needed until the girl debuted which could be as early as 15. as of now, I made the girl 14, as, due to her father being over protective he wouldn't allow her to debut until she was older anyways, but I wasn't sure how common it was to get a governess that would only be there for a few years. the governess is sort of desperate for a job, so even if its a bad deal, its okay. I also wasn't sure if the girls hadn't debuted if they could go to parties, or if she didn't debut she would still be considered a child and not allowed (including smaller family/friends get togethers). For this last one I'm trying to remember how the youngest sister is treated in sense and sensibility, but cannot recall.

Thirdly, I was curious how odd it would be for a governess to teach horseback riding. From what I was able to understand, it wasn't improper for ladies to learn sidesaddle, but I wasn't sure who would teach them, or how common it was.

sorry to use you as like, a focused google search, but I was having a heck of a time finding anything about the specifics of governesses. Usually it was all vague terms like "Until the daughters came of age"

Happy to help! Keep in mind that most of my help comes from novels from the time period.

If this is set in the Regency, not all girls "came out" at 15, it depended on a number of factors including if they had elder sisters. Jane Austen's heroines are never out before 17, Catherine Morland and Marianne Dashwood being the two youngest. It also depended on a girl's maturity, as everyone thinks the immature Lydia Bennet should not be out (she is 15). I believe Maria and Julia Bertram (Mansfield Park) aren't out until they are 20 and 19 respectively, and Maria says she'll learn from her governess until 17.

As for how long you would employ a governess, in Agnes Grey by Anne Brontë, Agnes is hired by a family with pretty old girls, the eldest being 16 and very near to coming out and the younger 14, but the family both wants and keeps a governess. This was similar to what happened in Anne's real life, by the way. Agnes is not dismissed from that position even after the elder sister marries, she leaves because her father is dying.

Also, if the father is widowed, he might keep the governess for longer if he could afford it. Miss Taylor, Emma's governess in Emma stayed until Emma was 21 and only left because she married. As Emma was the only daughter at home, Miss Taylor transitioned into being her companion and would probably have served as a sort of chaperone despite being unmarried. Men and women did a lot of activities separately, so having a paid "friend" around for your daughter wouldn't be unusual.

As for gatherings, it's likely that daughters are attending small gatherings once they are mature enough to be quiet. Margaret Dashwood is invited to dine at the park, she is 13, in Sense & Sensibility, but she is not invited to London, which would involve large parties. Fanny Price dines at the parsonage in Mansfield Park, which would count as a close friend, but Mary Crawford remains unsure if she is "out". Even the young Middleton children come out after dessert to greet the guests in Sense & Sensibility, though some of the company dislikes this suggesting it's either not common or the children were expected to behave better (they are 8 and under).

I know nothing about who taught horse riding to women. The only lessons in Jane Austen are an uncle for his niece (Fanny Price) and a guy teaching the girl he's attracted to (Edmund Bertram/Mary Crawford). Fanny muses that Mary's brother could have taught her.

Last consideration, I would consider the skills of your governess. If one is being hired for an older girl, she would need more advanced accomplishments. Can she play, draw, and do fancy work? Does she have good references? Is she old enough that it isn't crazy for her to be in charge of a teenager? (Like is she at least 20?)

Here is what Agnes's employer wants:

For the girls she seemed anxious only to render them as superficially attractive and showily accomplished as they could possibly be made, without present trouble or discomfort to themselves; and I was to act accordingly—to study and strive to amuse and oblige, instruct, refine, and polish, with the least possible exertion on their part, and no exercise of authority on mine. With regard to the two boys, it was much the same; only instead of accomplishments, I was to get the greatest possible quantity of Latin grammar and Valpy’s Delectus into their heads, in order to fit them for school—the greatest possible quantity at least without trouble to themselves. John might be a “little high-spirited,” and Charles might be a little “nervous and tedious—”

Agnes Grey, Ch 7

[heathersdesk]

Mormon Mommy Bloggers 2: Ballerina Farms Boogaloo

Since everyone is giving their thoughts on Ballerina Farms, and Mormonism by extension, let me step up to the mic. Especially because I'm an LDS woman that everyone seems to think they're experts on now.

I'm so tired of having to answer for the choices of other LDS women I don't know. I'm tired of them speaking for me. I'm tired of them making spectacles of their choices at the expense of other women, especially when they have so much wealth and privilege to be who they are. I'm tired of their "brand" being something I have to answer for as an LDS women.

Hannah Neeleman is nothing like the rest of us. She's nothing like most of us.

She's no different than every other LDS Mommy blogger who has been exploiting her kids for content in our community since the Aughties. She's not unique.

She was quoted in The Times article as saying she wants other people to have what she has? She thinks that's even a feasible option for the vast majority of LDS women?

Who's buying the land? The livestock? And everything that goes with it?

Not me. Not any other LDS woman I know.

There are so many incredible, important things that passionate LDS women do to serve their communities. But because they don't look like her and have her money to create the platform she has, you'll never know their names.

Did people forget that being a social media influencer is a pay-to-play system at this point? Y'all think she did anything differently?

She is a caricature of femininity that is a total fantasy being sold to y'all as part of an agenda to fund her lifestyle.

I can list off so many other influencers like her in our community who have come and gone from making all the same choices and mistakes that she's currently making. Knock off Ree Drummond doesn't even compare to some of the other LDS creators in her genre. If you want someone who broke this mold, go look up Stephanie Nielson of NieNie Dialogues. She survived a plane crash that permanently altered her appearance and had to find self-worth outside of traditional beauty standards. I never cared much for her content either, but she at least has something more interesting to say than "I'm pretty and rich and have a lot of kids." And that's before we even touch the totally valid criticisms of Daniel Neeleman and how poorly he treats his wife on camera.

I don't know if anyone walked him through the Mormon Mommy Blogger formula, but a necessary part of it is wish fulfillment for the audience, including a doting and respectful husband who would never dream of embarrassing or humiliating his wife. It's supposed to be an exercise in generating envy for everything his wife gets from being a stay-at-home mother—not what it's costing her because of him. That seems to be their only unique contribution to the genre, which is not the Mormon Mommy Blogger recipe for success. That's Shaycarl. You want to talk about the saddest "Where are they now?" Google search I just did to see if they're even still married. That tea is stone cold now. Nevertheless, it's still more interesting than watching a woman dancing ballet in a cow pasture (rather than at Juilliard) because her husband doesn't prioritize or respect her.

But I digress.

The press wants someone truly interesting to talk to? I can get them in contact with Artisans of Hope, a charity being run by LDS women in Idaho. They teach sewing and crafting skills to refugees, helping them become financially self-reliant in a new country. I can introduce them to the real work the bipartisan LDS community is doing to settle refugees all over Boise.

But no. Let's all have the same tired, ignorant conversation we've been having about Mommy bloggers since 2009. Because it was never about Hannah Neeleman. That's the sad thing she doesn't seem to realize.

People are only interested in talking about LDS women to make us look like indoctrinated freak shows. It's a very old form of misogyny that has been around since the 1840s.

The press has lifted her up specifically to make her a spectacle to the rest of the world, to laugh at her. And it's the dumbest thing in the world, I'm tired of seeing it, and tired of watching the public fall for it again and again.

[signed-sapphire]

Hey Wish rewriters I’m too lazy to tag everyone right now but I had a funny idea just pretend they have internet

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[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey! Loved your stories ten and one and the second part :)

Could I get an imagine or one shot when reader is married to Daemon but he’s not interested in her and thinks she’s boring until one night he sees her un flea bottom with friends in a tavern just having fun and gets to know her and maybe some smut?

It's The Ale

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Having no legitimate daughters, your father decided to claim you as his own for no other reason than to marry you off to the Prince. And so for the sake of your family that he threatened to destroy if you act up, you forced yourself to be a complacent wife. Your husband was sure shocked when he realized you were anything but.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Mentions of drunkards, mentions of violence, fem!reader, wife!reader, annoyed at daemon's bs!reader, forced marriage, old ye strip club vibes lol, typos, etc.

A/N: OLRIGHT I SAID I WOULD WRITE THIS AFTER FINISHING THE FINAL CHAPTER OF WANT YOU DEAD cos i have school stuff, but i'm feeling generous so yall better leave replies and reblogs or i will abandon you 👿🤡 AHHAHHAHAH jk i love you all So it has been brought to my attention that I used gypsy, not knowing it was racial slur and for that I would like to apologize. I did a quick google search on it, and honestly didn't get what it meant but used it anyway, clown shit for real, anyway, we are not about degrading cultures so I removed it from the fic.

I saw him the moment he walked in, and I knew, by all the gods, he saw me just the same.

Prince Daemon looked more like one of the haughty lords that came here to be entertained but would eventually get their hand cut off after mistaking the establishment to be a brothel.

My repulse for him veered sharply into a begrudged possessiveness when I saw one of my younger sisters sway her hips at him to catch his attention. Daemon was too preoccupied by the bareness of my belly to even take notice.

I grab Sinti's arm before she could make her way to him, "he's mine."

She turns over, eyes narrowed, "I saw him first."

"You mistake me, he is-"

"Why do you always feel entitled to get the good looking ones?" she snaps, ripping her arm away from me, "aren't you married?"

"Exactly," I quip, "that man is my husband."

Sinti's face contorts. She crosses her arms, "you invited your prince husband here?"

I shake my head, beginning to walk off, "I did no such thing."

"But-" she stutters, then calling out, "you said he was repulsive!?"

Daemon watches as I sit on the vacated stool on his table. His eyes dart down to scarf wrapped around my breasts and leans in on the table.

"Husband," I mutter, leaning in close to him.

His lips part when he gets a better view of my supple flesh.

Falling for my bait, I chuckle dryly, "or should I say ogling gremlin?"

He laughs, eyes flicking from the table to my eyes, "if you wore that around the house, then I wouldn't-"

"How did you know I was here?"

Daemon stills. He watches my expression for a moment then responds, "I did not."

My brows quirk. He mirrors my expression. I narrow my eyes and knit my brows, "then you are here as a customer."

He breaks into another laugh. He shifts on his seat, maneuvering to face me as he stretches his arm out to the table, "should I pay my wife to fuck me when I did not even touch her on our wedding night?"

My eye twitches at his words. It takes everything in my not to slit his throat with the dagger in my skirt's pocket.

He seems to be aware of how I tick, considering he chuckles as I release a heavy sigh.

"My sisters and I are artists-"

"Funny, I thought you were all bastards," he purses his lips, "considering none of you look alike, I'm guessing it's a sisterhood of bastard-whores."

I grit my teeth and growl, slamming my fist on the table, "those women you fuck in brothels only become whores after you taint with your filthy seed."

"Careful," he tuts, "I might fill you with my filthy seed if you keep running your mouth."

My eyes darken, clenching my hands tightly, "then you would be dishonoring your promise not to touch me if I stayed out of-"

"Well, you're in my way now, aren't you, girl?"

I stand abruptly from the stool, Daemon eyes lift up as I do. I turn with anger laced in my movements and heave as I walk away to calm myself, lest I do something I regret. It seems I am just in time to be able to join the performance.

Daemon spreads his legs and leans on the table, watching intently from his seat.

When I am close to the stage, Sinti is upon me, grabbing my arm, looking back and forth behind me, "that went well."

"You think he's good looking?!" I snap at her.

Sinti recoils her hand, eyes wandering off. I scoff at her and go up to my spot on the platform. I didn't need one of my sisters to nudge me to know the man with the long silver-blonde hair was looking straight at me.

My sisters quit their bickering. Music begins to play.

I take in a breath and close my eyes, allowing the song in the air to take my mind off of the fucker across the room. The enchanting voice of one of my sisters begin to recount the tales of our family, its joys, its heartaches, its magic.

It doesn't take long for me to fall back into my groove as I wind my hands up around and move my hips to the rhythm. I relax into myself. I release a breath of relief. Following the normal choreography we had, I begin to lift one of my legs up in front of me.

My eyes rip open when I feel a hand grab my ankle.

I grunt in disgust and rip my foot away from him. The grimy man does not understand this and takes it as an invitation to hiccup from his chair, lean towards the stage, and grab my leg again.

This time, I waste no time in kicking him in the face, hard enough so he would finally get it.

It takes him a moment to register the pain. I look down at him pathetically as red trickles down from his nose.

"You fucking whore!" he cries in anger, making everyone but my sisters turn to him.

Having my day completely ruined at this point, I easily dodge the sluggish man's lunge attack and kick him again on the face. This time he crashes back onto his table, and by the time I jump up beside him, I see Daemon halt a few steps away.

I turn to Daemon with a repulsed look, as the man who touched me groans in pain. Before the vermin can even think to touch me again, I grab his arm and twist it behind his back, making him scream in pain, "don't make this any harder for yourself," I speak loud enough so both gremlins could hear, "just leave while I'm being generous."

"You call that generous?" the annoying prince chuckles beside me, making me rip at the the drunken man's arm even tighter, causing him to scream louder.

I shoot Daemon a glare. He revels in the attention.

When the vermin begins to beg, I rip my dark gaze away from the man I unfortunately had to go home to and usher the drunkard in my grips out of the establishment.

I shove him to the ground with one furious shove. I watch him writhe, feeling nothing for him, then turn to go back to my performance.

"And you do this every night?" Daemon asks, blocking my passage with his large body and stupid face.

My stoic expression sours at the likes of him, "just as you indulge yourself in brothels, my prince."

He chuckles, crosses his arms, and steps forward.

Having enough of his shit, I grit my teeth and finally rip my weapon out and point a blade to his neck, pressing it firmly against his skin.

Daemon lets out a breath, feeling the sharp prick just below his jaw. I look up at him, practically begging with my eyes to give me a reason to kill him. Yet he chuckles, and like a lunatic, pushes deeper into the sharp edge. I am so shocked by the red that gushes out, I rip the blade away from him with a gasp.

His laughter bubbles further, "clever fool."

Taking advantage of my shock, Daemon grabs the blade from my hand and brings it up to my throat. I gulp as he ghosts it all the way down to my rib. A breath escapes me when he cuts a piece of my scarf. He presses it to his bloody neck, handing me back my dagger.

I only stare at him, which is why he grabs my hand and pushes the object in my grip.

"I expect you to go straight home after you accomplish your duties here."

I blink at him.

"I'm going to need you to respond before I leave you, dear wife."

I open my mouth but then grind my teeth at the smirk he gives me.

"I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine."

He chuckles, nodding his head, "I..." he smiles, "intend to do no such thing."

With that, he leaves.

[andavs]

Hi I swear I’ve seen you write a wonderful meta about the training eddie diaz would have to complete prior to being a medic and deploying for his first tour. Do you know what his absolute minimum age would likely be, had he hypothetically enlisted on his 18th bday? Because if Shannon’s headstone is her canon bday and not a continuity error, she would have been 17 and approximately 11 mos when Chris was born in September 2010. And if she and Eddie are the same age, give or take several months, it seems unlikely he could already have risen to the ranks of medic and been deployed on an active tour the same year he turned 18. I know minors can enlist with parental consent, but I doubt the Diazes would have provided it and it also would probably mean Eddie didn’t finish high school, unless he was a year younger than his classmates. Anyway, I just don’t think they could have been born in 92 for that to work

I honestly don’t remember if that was me or not, but I’ll give it a shot! I know 911’s timeline is mostly just vibes, but this is fandom and we like to overthink and nitpick.

Long story short: no, I don’t think 1992 works. Even ignoring the retcon they did in Buzzkill that aged Chris up a year. (Unless him being 14 is relevant to the current storyline, I think they just goofed and made him Gavin’s age.)

Based on a google search for Texas, unless it was different in the 90s, Shannon was a month and a half past the cutoff for starting school in the class of 2010, so she would’ve been at the older end of her class, the class of 2011. But if Chris was born in September 2011, that means she was graduating with a baby bump under her gown while Eddie should’ve already been off at basic.

So from what they’ve given us, this is the rough timeline:

Shannon’s grave said she was born October 16, 1992. In Eddie Begins, Chris was born in 2011, and with his birthday in September, Shannon would’ve been just shy of 19 when he was born. 

Since Chris was born at the end of September, he was conceived towards the end of January 2011—which would’ve been about halfway through Shannon and Eddie’s senior year.

Pregnancy lasts about 40 weeks. Most women realize they’re pregnant between 4 and 7 weeks, so Shannon would’ve found out sometime around the end of February or mid-March.

Shannon said Eddie enlisted when he found out, so let’s say he both turned 18 and enlisted mid-March 2011. They got married, he went off to basic.

Basic is 10 weeks, followed by 16 weeks of medic training. (You can become a medic by doing extra training right after basic. It’s an entry level career within the army, not a rank you have to work up to.) On the tightest timeline, that leaves maybe 7 weeks until Chris is born.

Since Eddie was already in Afghanistan when Chris was born, he was deployed pretty much straight out of training, which does happen sometimes. He was granted leave to come home for the birth and had to go back to finish the rest of his tour.

Working from that, the latest Eddie could’ve been born would be like mid-March to mid-April 1993 and he’d be 31 now. But the problem with that timeline is that Eddie would’ve been enlisting and going off to basic with at least a few months left of his senior year. A high school diploma or GED is required to become a medic, and he’s never mentioned graduating early or getting a GED.

If he waited until after he graduated to go to basic, he would’ve still been in the middle of training when Chris was born, not in Afghanistan.

Since it’s implied that they were in the same class, the only way Shannon’s 1992 birth year works is if she skipped a year, and she and Eddie were actually in the class of 2010, meaning he was older than her and born before September 1, 1992. Then they would’ve graduated normally and already been out of high school for over a year by the time Chris was born.

(It’s possible she was a year behind him, but it’s even more tragic and depressing if he was out of high school and going off to bootcamp and she was finishing school and graduating while pregnant without him.)

It's always been my headcanon that she was originally from California, which (according to google) had a cutoff of December 1 until 2014. So I guess it's possible that she started in the class of 2010 in California and then moved to Texas later? But if they'd just made her birth year 1991, pretty much all of this confusion vanishes immediately.

[will-pilled]

If you don't take the impacts of people like Jordan Peterson or Ben Sharpiro seriously and just brush them off as (the) idiots (they are)

Long read about Jordan Peterson and how his meatriders behave.

You should still take them seriously as a threat.

A peer of mine was going on about how women are chosing the wrong path. I asked him what path he thought was the wrong one, knowing it'd be your standard woman hating nonsense. Which it was. He said that women not getting married or having children was "the wrong path."

I told him that generally childless single women are the happier demographic. He laughed and asked for a source. I didn't have an answer because MULTIPLE sources say that. Literally all you have to do is like.. Search it up and most of the sources say this.

I asked him HIS source, to which he said Jordan Peterson.

I told him it was foolish to take the word of just one man. A man who almost had his license revoked nonetheless, but I did not bring up that part.

He said that just because I didn't like him for a reason apparently I didn't understand (???) that doesn't discredit him.

So not only are Peterson fanboys taking everything he says seriously, but they don't even GOOGLE what he says. This guy is literally obsessed with JP and takes him very seriously. He also fits the "troubled young man without a father" mold too.

JP is so fucking evil praying on vulnerable young men like this, and his peers do it too.

[cowbilover]

lo and queer masc/man rep

or therefore the complete lack there of. which is incredibly insulting considering how common and prominent it was in original myth (although not always perfect but what greek myth is regardless of straight or gay). also i will be using queer in place of LGBT+ as an umbrella term so if you're not comfortable with that then sorry.

now rachel has made attempts at including queer rep through hestia and athena as lesbians and morpheus (and maybe chiron? idk) as trans women. which could be a whole separate post on its own with the problems that arise with them, but seeing as i am not a lesbian or trans woman, i will not be speaking on them in this post nor to the same degree if i do ever mention them.

what i am is a queer man, both bisexual and trans. i am also a big enjoyer of greek myth. i am not a big enjoyer of lore olympus nor of rachel's complete lack of representation when it comes to men like myself despite it being again very prominent within the original myths. now seeing how badly she has handled other forms of representation for other groups, i am partially glad she hasn't tried. but while i am a little happy, i am more so overall upset and annoyed at this. it comes off as nothing more than simple erasure.

the closest we've seen of rep for queer men/mascs is aged up storge who is more feminine then other men in the story, but this has not been explicitly confirmed therefore i will not be including this. besides men can be both feminine and still cishet. finally storge is a minor background character with little importance, so even if rachel did decide to make him canon queer we likely would not see much of that.

his brother eros is another annoying case as he is unarguably coded as a gay best friend stereotype. but without being gay. he is fashionable, witty, intelligent, dramatic, and always serves as a shoulder for his straight friend to cry on. but again he is not even fucking gay. he is married to a woman with a child. while i would like to see better representation then the gbf stereotype it is still insulting that rachel while coding eros to act like that couldn't even do the bare minimum of making him bisexual.

now it has been pointed out to me that names of male lovers to gods have been used and slapped on female nymphs. krokos (one of persephone's dead nympth friends) was a male spartan lover of hermes, and ampleus (the name pysche took as a nymph) was a lover of dionysus. now i am not upset that rachel didn't include the original stories since the story is already messy enough. i am upset that she took the names of two queer men from myth and slapped them on two woman. one of which ends up marrying a man, and the other dying. a quick google search could show that these names belonged to male lovers of gods, and so to me it comes off as at best lazy and at worst erasure.

i won't be discussing much of dionysus since he was only recently introudced. nor of apollo since the erasure of his queer identity is only one of many problems that occur with his character and how rachel wrote it, which could constitution a completely separate post.

i will be discussing hermes though. as both a character that we have seen a lot of, and as one that has not been completely villainized by the plot. he had an incredibly early appearance in the webtoon and had a handful of myths where he had male lovers or expressed homosexual love. but not a single mention or even passing comment has ever been made about this. it would be incredibly easy for rachel to just throw in one allusion to any of his male lovers (besides krokos who has been turned into a nymph for some reason) yet this never happens.

zeus is another character we have seen a lot of, especially in regards to his many affairs. all of which have canonically been with women. despite the many affairs he carried out with men. one of the most famous being ganymede and the foundation for the myth behind aquarius and the cup bearer. again it would not be so incredibly difficult for rachel to add any allusion to his male lovers. yet again though, nothing. (i will come back to this post after some fast passes become public and i can discuss his treatment as a pregnant man)

poseidon also had a couple queer lovers but besides the reference to the fact that he has a polygam "pod" we haven't actually seen any of his partners besides his wife.

the way rachel draws men with all perfect six pack bodies is also something that annoys me, and i'll be discussing it briefly here. people always comment on the lack of body diversity for the women in the comic but for the men it is much more severe. hermes, thanatos and eros who were all shown to be more skinny and not completely jacked in the beginning of the story are now all ripped with washboard abs. the men are all built like brick walls and it is just upsetting to see as a trans man who does not fit into that category. it sends the message that to be attractive a man must be perfectly fit. not scrawny or skinny or god forbid even fat.

also again as i said in the beginning many of the myths for queer men were just as fucked and problematic. it’s greek mythology it’s inevitable. but i’m more upset over the fact that if rachel can modernize and (attempt to) make hetero myths less gross, then where is that effort for homo myths

overall despite the overwhelming amount of queer man/masc rep that exists within the source material, rachel utilizes none of it. there has not been mention or allusion to a single queer god, forget any trans god. to me it comes off as purposefully ignorant and as erasure of queer men/mascs. which is fucking annoying considering how many of us see ourselves for once fucking represented in these myths. she has plenty of opportunity to include rep for people like myself but continuously chooses not to, instead adding another hetero-centric plot line for no reason. it is tiring and annoying to see so many gods that were queer in their myths not be represented as such. i will not make assumptions about why rachel chooses not to include this kind of rep, i will simply say to me it comes off as blatant erasure.

i could go on, and probably will come back to this post but for now i have said what i have wanted to say.

[bitchkay]

Dancing in the dark♡

~Rio Voleri

CW: fluff, ur pregnant again sry😬 rio can't keep his hands off you, fem reader, miss reader can sing🎤🎵🎶, rio got a little beard♡, rio says an innuendo guys😳, yall are so in love you're a little bit stupid🤕, this takes place during your third pregnancy but you're not incredibly far along (but showing) so Genesis isn't in the picture at this point, falling in love by cigarettes after sex♡, gets suggestive at the end

Word count: 1536

Rating: Teen and up audiences

Note: my Google search history probably thinks I'm pregnant with how much I've been researching about pregnancy, what's generally normal, what's considered high risk/low risk, symptoms, side effects, baby's, growing infants/toddler, baby development, hormones and mood swings and other stuff like that, I love doing research for stuff like this though I like knowing things plus I wanna be accurate, and it's kinda fun, I be looking at forums and posts by pregnant women and I'm like damn that's crazy🤭🤭

☆𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖'𝕤 𝕒 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕕, 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣'𝕤 𝕒 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕪 + 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

“You're not cold are you?”

You perked up looking behind you as Rio came up to where you sat on a sturdy rock by the pond in the castle gardens. The moon shone bright, illuminating the clearing, the water glittering in the subtle light.

“I'm fine, I brought a sweater with me. Did Halo finally go down?” You asked scooting over to make room for your burly husband.

“She's asleep. I had to sit with her until she fell asleep though, she didn't want me to leave. I also checked on the twins, they're fast asleep as well,” Rio sat next to you throwing his arm around your shoulder holding you close to his side.

“Thank you so much sweetie. Sorry to ask you to put the kids to bed by yourself,” you lean your head on his shoulder affectionately.

“You needn't worry about me, I'd do whatever you asked of me if you wanted, especially when it comes to our kids,” Rio leaned over to gently kiss your forehead. “How's number four?”

Referring to your pregnant belly Rio looked down at you, moving his arms down towards your waist caressing your side as you threw your legs over his lap.

“I want to say, asleep like the others,” you gave a soft chuckle. “Calm… nice… was kicking earlier but probably got the hint that it's nighttime and not to fight with me so late, hehe. We’re doing good.”

“Good.”

Rio sat with you in silence rubbing your side soothingly as you both watched the calm waters of the little pond before you. Little lily pads floating atop the water and flowers around the pond's perimeter. The critters that lived here must be asleep as well.

“Do you ever think that we're going too fast, Rio?”

Your voice made him pause a moment, putting a hand to his slightly hairy chin in thought.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm pregnant, Rio. We've been married for less than ten years. This is our fourth child and my third pregnancy. The twins are already seven years old, Halo is about to be four, with another baby on the way, plus we talked about adopting too… of course I wouldn't trade any of this for the world but…”

“Well, do you think we're going too fast? Tell me. I know I'm as much a father as you are a mother but the choice is ultimately yours. You know I wouldn't be mad if you decided you didn't want to have anymore kids. Of course I love every child you've given me but it's your body on the line not mine. Talk to me” Rio looked you in the eyes with seriousness, his love for you shining through. “You're my wife first.”

“I was just thinking that our family is getting so big so fast already,” you say calmly. You spread your hand on your swollen stomach, rubbing it through the clothes. “But you know what? I can't imagine doing this with anyone else… However, breeding me every three years is a bit overkill, no?”

Rio smiles cheekily pulling you closer so you're fully on his lap. “You know I can't get enough of you, I cherish our rare alone time together.” He leans in nuzzling up to the side of your face like a puppy bidding for affection. “Plus motherhood has made you so undeniably alluring to me~”

“Rio!”

You push his face away playfully standing up hiding your embarrassed face. Rio follows you, hugging you from behind before you can run away relaxing as you lean into his touch. You close your eyes, putting your hands on top of his sighing as a pleasant night breeze hits your skin.

“You're sure you're not cold?”

You nod your head quietly, turning around in his embrace, wrapping your hands behind Rios neck as you rested your head on his chest. You feel so at ease in his arms, his warmth radiating through his clothes, steady heartbeat acting as a metronome. 

“Even if I was… you're warm… stay like this a while longer?”

Rio smiles, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “For you, Sunbeam♡”

And so you stand in the floral garden illuminated by the moon swaying back and forth to an invisible melody like trees in a gentle breeze. You hum a tune closing your eyes leaning further into Rio's chest letting the song carry you paying no heed to the fact you're still outside humming the song contently.

“What song is that?” Rio rubs your back soothingly as he falls into step with you.

“A song from back home- the human realm I mean. I just suddenly remembered it… it's a good song,” you breathed out your words, relaxed.

“Sing it to me,” Rio smiled down at you as he took your hand in his wrapping the other around your waist.

“You want me to?”

“Of course.”

“It's been quite a while, you know? I don't think I remember all the words,” you said shyly as Rio pulled you into a slow dance simply enjoying being close to you.

“That's okay. I wouldn't know the difference anyway.”

You giggle looking away flustered. “Well now I'm nervous, what if you don't like it?”

“Then I won't ask again. Please, my love.” Rio thumbed your hip affectionately giving you a sweet smile.

Your face warmed at the use of “my love” making you smile. “Alright then♡”

You cleared your throat as Rio held you by the waist gliding about, dancing as you hummed the melody.

“When I hold you close to me, I could always see a house by the ocean. Last night I could hear the waves, as I heard you say ‘All that I want to be is yours’...”

With one hand on his shoulder and the other in his palm you smile up at Rio lovingly as you sway back and forth, him looking back at you with just as much admiration if not more as he pulled you closer by the waist.

“Falling in love, falling in love. Deeper than I've felt it before with you baby. I feel I'm falling in love with all my heart.” You rested your head on Rio's chest as you sang, feeling a soft kiss be placed on top of your head.

“Beautiful…”

Your mellow voice carried you as you danced through the grass in a comfortable hold, the moon rising higher in the sky. You gave a soft chuckle as you forgot some of the words humming along the melody. In this moment Rio couldn't help but find you the loveliest creature in all the land.

“Falling in love, falling in love. Deeper than I've felt it before with you baby. I feel I'm falling in love with all my heart♡”

As you finished the song you felt fatigue creep up on you, leaning on Rios chest with more weight.

“Sunbeam? Getting sleepy? It's late.” Rio hugged you gently to his chest tenderly placing a hand on your head. “Do you want to go inside?”

“Maybe… I'm just really comfortable here with you. I like moments like this,” you wrapped your arms around Rio torso. “I just wish this baby wasn't getting in the way of being right up against you.”

Rio chuckled at your words before scooping his arm beneath your knees picking you (and all your pregnant self) up with ease. 

“Hey! I can walk you kno–!”

“Hush. Knowing you, you'll be asleep before we get to the room. Relax, will you,” Rio said in a more stern tone, no stranger to your stubbornness.

Your face warmed as his voice sent your heart a flutter. Perhaps it was just your hormones talking but suddenly sleep was the last thing on your mind.

“The kids are asleep right?” You asked innocently.

“Yes? Why-” oh he knows that look in your eye.

“I'm horny-”

“No.”

“But baby-”

“We are going to bed.”

“But I need you…”

“And you need sleep,” of course Rio would love to indulge you but at this hour you would be lucky to get any sleep at all before dawn if he gave into your (his) desires. He must (begrudgingly) put his foot down.

“Why are you so mean to me…” you pouted, your eyes turning wet as you crossed your arms.

“Sunbeam…” he kissed your forehead for the nth time this night.

“You just can't keep up with me because these pregnancy hormones make me insatiable…” Which is true, your moods tended to be up and down, sad, mad, ultra happy, but when you were in the mood nothing could bring you down better than your hot and sexy husband. Once your doctor said it was safe to have intercourse during this pregnancy you weren't passing up the opportunity to have sex with Rio any chance you could get it, whenever you wanted it and could slip away.

“Exactly. If I let you have your way neither of us are going to sleep tonight, and as much as you say you need me, I know you're tired. So let's go to sleep, my love.

“... you hate me.”

“Let's go to sleep, my love.”

“You want me dead.”

“We're going to bed, my love.”

©bitchkay.tumblr.com

[hindulivesmatter]

You literally called "love jihad" a crime against Hindus. So, people electing to have interfaith marriages are somehow committing a crime against Hinduism by doing so. Muslim men who marry Hindu women are doing it to carry out some type of Great Replacement by converting them to Islam to make India more Muslim.

I wanted to put that plainly because you're clearly banking on that your non-Indian followers don't know what that means. You are saying that people choosing to marry who they love are somehow against Hinduism because those people are not Hindus. You are claiming that Muslim men who fall for Hindu women are actually part of some great conspiracy.

I want people to understand how crazy and conspiracist this logic is so they understand why to take every claim you have of "hindus are still oppressed in India" with a massive grain of salt. You are literally promoting the Hindu version of The Great Replacement Theory and of white people panicking over white women having mixed race babies.

You do not care about Muslims. It is a smokescreen. You think they are lesser and you support people oppressing them.

Yes, love jihad is extremely dangerous to Hindus. Luring a girl under false pretenses and then converting her without her consent is called love jihad. That is not the same as interfaith marriage.

Do you want me to deny the alarming number of cases of women being murdered by their Muslim partners? Or the fact that if a couple is entering an interfaith marriage, always have to convert to Islam. By that logic then, why can't the Muslim person convert to Hinduism?

I'm banking on my non-Indian followers? If they don't know what it means, they can either ask or do a Google search.

"You are saying that people choosing to marry who they love are somehow against Hinduism because those people are not Hindus."

When the fuck did I ever say that? Stop putting words in my mouth holy fucking shit.

"You are claiming that Muslim men who fall for Hindu women are actually part of some great conspiracy."

Again, NO. I am saying that there are cases of Muslim men, CHANGING THEIR NAMES TO HINDU NAMES, WEARING HINDU SYMBOLS, and courting Hindu women. They then reveal themselves after they are married. Do you even hear how insane you sound?

"I want people to understand how crazy and conspiracist this logic is so they understand why to take every claim you have of "Hindus are still oppressed in India" with a massive grain of salt. You are literally promoting the Hindu version of The Great Replacement Theory and of white people panicking over white women having mixed-race babies."

I'm sorry, I had to laugh here. What the fuck is wrong with you. Did you even go through my blog before sending me this? I literally reblog cases of actual Hinduphobia and violence against Hindus. That's literally it.

"You do not care about Muslims. It is a smokescreen. You think they are lesser and you support people oppressing them."

Bro. I'm sorry, so just speaking up about Hinduphobia means I do not care about Muslims? I promise it isn't that deep. We don't have an agenda like the one you've made up in your head. All we want is to co-exist in PEACE. I will never understand you people. Violence against Muslims is a real thing, and I 100% condemn it. You make up shit about us in your head, and pretend we're foaming at the mouth, ready to murder all the Muslims. You lunatic.

[8bitbabii]

I hate the anti-“woke” narrative that has been going around on social media—especially when it’s women spouting anti-“woke” or anti-feminism nonsense. It’s giving pickme, love.

Having the ability to get online and scream about how you hate feminists IS the work of feminism bby. 🫠 You have the freedom to make choices for YOURSELF.

Feminism isn’t man-hating nonsense that you seem to believe it is. The fact that none of them could do any ounce of research is what bothers me the most. It takes all but a few seconds to do a simple Google search. They just piggyback off the talking points of others without even doing their own fact checking.

They just throw shit and see what sticks because it gets them views and attention. Political grifting and anti-political correctness is what gets people attention nowadays.

If you really want to live in an anti-feminist/anti-woman society, then you would be made to shut the fuck up, suck a dick, lay on your back and make babies, and sit in the background waiting on your husband’s hand and foot. You would have NO RIGHTS. No ability to make your own decisions or money. You live solely for your husband and kids. And, if you’re one of the women either unable to have kids or get married, then you would be looked down upon and seen as worthless. These grifters make content even though I sincerely doubt they believe in half of the shit they spout online.

It gives me the ick so badly and the internet hates nuance so having a real discussion is next to impossible.