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[onlineearningwithaa]

Start Online Earning: How to Find Sites for Guest Post Outreach and make...

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒘𝒂𝒏

🕊���a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - you come to find out that the man you grew up alongside isn't the same after the royal ball.

warning - smut, dub-con, death, violence, creampie, kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, swearing, obsession.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Y/n-Odette and Steve had known each other since she was a baby. Upon Steve meeting her when she was born, their parents had been planning Steve’s marriage to Y/n-Odette. Over the years as the two grew, they despised each other, causing their parents to worry which they would then be forced to be together every summer. 

You had been dreading today. You wished to stay home but your father would not allow it. You sat in the carriage, staring out at the scenery, hoping you could distract your mind from having to see Steve again. 

Steve squirmed impatiently, thinking of anything that wasn’t you. A stupid, silly girl. Steve groaned quietly as he went to meet you in the ballroom until he stopped, his heart began to thump. Your smile made him feel weak in the knees. You had the same face, hair and eyes as Y/n-Odette but seemed to be someone quite different. 

“Hello, Steve.” You speak, smiling softly.

Steve couldn’t speak, he wondered if you were the same girl he had grown up with. He returned your smile, holding out his arm for you to take. He felt his heart skip as you accepted, taking his arm and together you walked onto the dance floor as the music began to play. Steve felt so happy, like he was dancing on air.

After that night, you and Steve had spent the rest of the summer together. Steve dreamed of you, he awoke each morning eager to see you. When he was with you he felt overjoyed, but he was also tongue-tied and could not tell you how he felt. Steve couldn’t imagine living without you, it was almost like an obsession had begun to grow within him. 

The summer had come to an end and it was your time to leave. You and Steve decided to dance all night at the royal ball, love burned so bright that the whole ballroom could practically feel it. You smiled up at the handsome prince but inside you could feel a tug of sadness. You couldn’t bear to leave him, he had given you so much love over the summer but he had never declared it. You hoped he would finally tell you how he felt tonight.

As the music came to a stop, so did you and Steve. You both shared a long glance, waiting, searching, hoping. 

Steve suddenly turned to the guests with a giant grin. “Arrange the wedding!”

The noise around you suddenly stopped, everyone was speechless. 

“Wait!” You called out. 

“What is it?” Steve pleaded, “You’re all I ever wanted. You’re beautiful!” 

“Thank you,” You replied, “But… What else?” You knew deep down in your soul that Steve loved you as much as you loved him, so surely he wanted you more than your beauty? You just needed him to say it. 

Steve stared blankly, he really had no clue. “What else?”

Your heart dropped. “Is beauty all that matters to you?” You asked, your father and his mother stood dumbfounded, they were so close. 

Steve swallowed hard. “I… Er… What else is there?” He asked.

Your heart sank even further. You had been wrong, Steve did not love you at all. You turned and swiftly exited the ballroom, taking the hopes of two kingdoms with you. 

You and Steve barely said goodbye as you left. He watched as you departed with shock and bitter disappointment. 

Steve sits as Lord Rogers paces the royal sitting room. “What else is there?” He mockingly spoke. “She says, ‘Is beauty all that matters?’ and you say, “What else is there?!” 

“It was dumb, I know.” Steve replies, hanging his head as he tries to think.

The weather outside was not helping his mood. It seemed to match the sadness he felt deep within. 

“You should write a book.” Rogers continued. “How to Offend Women in Five Syllables or Less.” Rogers leans forward, flicking Steve’s forehead. “Think!” He urged. “You must see something other than Y/n-Odette’s beauty!” 

“Of course I do, Rogers!” Steve begins to stumble as he thinks. “She’s… Well, you know. And then, well… Er…” 

Lord Rogers rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, I just don’t know how to say it!” Steve finally blurted out, and then he added. “I know, I’ll prove it to her. I’ll prove my love!” He nods to himself before muttering. “I’ll make her mine. I’ll make her see how I see her.” Steve stands, swiftly exiting the room as he begins to form a plan. 

Meanwhile inside the carriage, your father shakes his head sadly. “I just don’t understand.” He looks at you, watching as you continue to look out and into the forest. “What else did you want him to say?” 

You bite your bottom lip softly before letting it go as you turn to look at your father. “I just need to know that he loves me.” 

Suddenly the horses whined and bucked, causing the carriage to stop. “What on Earth–?” King William, your father turned the door handle and stepped out. Beyond the horses, a large man was blocking their path. Although the man stood in the shadows, King William recognised him instantly. He had watched him grow from a small child but he could feel something was off and with one look at you, he orders. “Stay inside, Y/n-Odette.” He closes the door and takes a step forward, his guards moved to encircle him, spears drawn.

“Steve, what are you doing out here so late? How did you get here?” The King had never felt this kind of fear before, it was as though something had possessed the man before him. He looks around, brows furrowed as he sees no way for Steve to have gotten there without them noticing. “You must be cold, my boy. Why don’t you hop inside our carriage and we can take you back to your mother. I am sure she’s worried.” 

Steve chuckles and the sound causes The King to stumble, it sounded so dark, so chilling. “I can’t have you do that, sir.” 

The Kind and Steve’s mother had always wanted the two of you together but at this moment, he didn’t know this man. At this moment, King William would do anything to protect you. He could feel strong amounts of power radiating off of Steve, darkness he had never felt before. King William steps back towards the carriage, his guards moving forward slightly, protecting him and you. 

Steve’s eyes sweep over them all, causing a shiver to run through their bodies. “Why are you scared?” Steve takes a small step forward, his foot sinking into the soil beneath him. 

King William clears his throat, straightening his back. “We are not scared. Why don’t you come back with us? Then we can take you back in the morning.” His head whips around as he hears you scream, his eyes widen as he sees Steve’s best friend pulling you from the carriage. 

Thumps can be heard and The King whips back around only for his eyes to widen as Steve stands toe-to-toe with him and his guards lay dead around them. “I said, I can’t have you do that, sir. I want Y/n-Odette and as long as she has you, she will never fully devote herself to me.” Steve towers over the short King, making him seem as tiny as an ant. “I may have screwed up this evening but she will be mine.” 

“S–Ste–” King William is cut off by Steve’s hand gripping his throat, his eyes bulged and skin begins to turn purple. 

Everything had turned black after you were pulled from the carriage, unaware of what had happened with your father. You woke up surrounded by water but you felt weird causing you to look down, shock and fear shoot through you as you see white. You were no longer in your body, instead of a human body it had been replaced with that of a swans. 

“Y/n–Odette.” Hope ran through you as you heard Steve’s voice, your eyes darting around until they landed on his large figure. “You’re finally awake, my little swan.” That hope that had built inside of you had come crashing down once you realised that he wasn’t there to save you. Your body moves, gliding across the water, distancing yourself away from the man you thought you had known. “Don’t let the small spell make you sad, Y/n–Odette. It doesn’t last the whole day, as soon as the moon comes up…” 

Steve didn’t need to finish, creeping across the lake the moonlight touched your wing. Water began to swirl from below, your swan-like self rose upward in a shimmering golden-grey light, transforming you into your human form. 

Steve grins. “That’s how it will be until you are mine, Little Swan.” He said as you landed gently on the shore. “You have to be on the lake, of course and when the moonlight touches your wings, you’re human!” 

You turned away from him, betrayal blossoming within you. Your thoughts went to your father. “My father… Is he okay?” 

“Define okay…” 

You spun around, eyes wide and full of tears. “What did you do to him?!” 

Steve merely shrugs. “I may have killed him.” 

You gasp, reeling back as the tears begin to slowly fall. “Y–you…” 

Steve moves closer, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek but you move your head. His brows furrow as anger seeps in but he shakes it off, allowing you this. “Killed him, yes. I had to, otherwise I couldn’t have you, Y/n-Odette.”

“You can’t have me now, Steve! You killed my father! You kidnapped me and trapped me at this lake forever!” Your eyes meet his, so many emotions swirl around behind them. “I could’ve gotten over you only liking me for my looks but this… This is too much. You’re not the man I thought you were. The man I grew to love…” 

“Now, don’t speak like that, Y/n-Odette. Sooner or later you are going to cave into being mine. You’ll learn to love this version of me.” He grabs your chin, ignoring how you fight against his hold and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t fight it, little swan. You’ll be mine soon.” And with those words, he leaves. Leaving you alone and broken, your body hits the ground as sobs break free, your pain filling the forest around you. 

Days, weeks, maybe even months go by without you giving into Steve and his advances. No matter what he did, you remained silent and distant. You began to enjoy your swan form, using it as an excuse to escape your human problems. 

On the other hand, Steve was slowly losing it. He began taking his anger out on everyone else, those who loved and admired him, now feared him. His mother thought that it had something to do with your disappearance and your father’s death. Only if she knew the truth would she hate the man her son became.

Steve grew impatient, he didn’t understand why you weren’t his already. Why did you have to be so stubborn? Did you not see how much he loved you? “What else do I have to do, Buck? She’s supposed to be mine.” He put his head in his hands. His best friend watched him from the doorway, arms crossed. 

“I don’t think you’re being rough enough. You’re being too sweet on her, Steve. A woman like her needs rough handling, someone to dominate her.” Bucky pushes off of the wall and moves closer to his friend. “You need to stop playing Mr. Nice guy.” 

Steve nods, standing and patting Buck’s shoulder with a smile. “You’re right, Buck.” His smile slowly turns into a smirk. “I guess it’s time to go get my girl.” And with that, he walks out of the castle and into the woods. 

Steve reached his destination the moment moonlight shone on the lake, watching golden-grey swirls appear as your form changes from swan to human. He grins, sauntering straight towards you. “Little swan. As beautiful as ever.” He shakes off the strange feeling that appears when you brush off his words, already ignoring and moving away from him. Too bad Steve had already reached you before you could distance yourself further. 

He pulls you closer to him, gripping your chin roughly as he forces you to look him in the eyes. “I don’t appreciate this attitude, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine and I am going to make you see that whether you like it or not.” You shiver under his hold as he growls. Steve pulls you over to a tree and pushes you up against it, your dress bunching up against your hips as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Your pulse quickens and your eyes widen, you push against his shoulders with poor attempts. Deep down you wanted this, you just didn’t like the person he became. “N–no, no. Steve. You… You can’t do this. Please.” 

Steve caresses your cheek, smiling almost too sweetly at you. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, Y/n-Odette. You’re mine. We’re meant to be together.” His hand moves, gripping your chin with his thumb. His eyes fall to your lips as your mouth opens slightly. “I’m going to make you my wife, my Queen, little swan. Then you will bear my children.” 

You shake your head, ignoring how you throb at the thought. “I’m done waiting for you to give in, Y/n-Odette. You need to understand that you’re already mine.” Steve presses against you, feeling you throb against his clothed cock. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, little swan.” A small whine slips through your lips. “Just give in. Let me make you feel good.” You gasp as he pulls you into a kiss, all thoughts leaving your mind as his lips begin to move, pulling you deeper into his hold. Steve nips your bottom lip, sliding his tongue inside as a moan escapes your mouth. 

You barely notice as he frees himself, sliding his hardened cock between your lips. Your grip tightens on his shoulders, pulling away slightly. “S–Steve…” 

His hand moves, caressing your cheek. “Shh, little swan. It’s okay.” Your mouth drops and eyes roll back as he slides into you, filling you to the brim with one thrust. “That’s my good girl, feel so good for me.” Steve grunts, pressing you into the tree harder while he holds back from roughly fucking into you. You go limp in his arms, never having felt this amount of pleasure before, not even the times when you had touched yourself. 

“O–oh… Steve…” 

Steve smirked to himself, “Is that all you needed, little swan? My cock? If I had known all I had to do was fuck you to get you like this, I would’ve done it along time ago.” You want to argue back, huff and disagree with him but he was right, you couldn’t think when he was inside of you. His grip on you tightens before he suddenly begins to fuck you, slowly pulling out only to roughly thrust back in. Your moans trapped in your throat and your back arches, pressing close to his. 

Steve grunts, his eyes locked on your face. He felt smug that the pleasure you were feeling was caused by him. He changes the angle of his hips, his cock sliding deeper inside of you, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. Your hands grip Steve’s back, nails clawing into any skin you can find.

Steve’s hand moves up, his thumb swiping the necklace that lay around your neck. His hips not stopping as he stares deep into your eyes. “The moment I gave you this necklace, Y/n-Odette was the moment you became mine, there was no stopping this fate. You’re stuck with me, little swan.” 

Your walls clench around him as he claims you. His thrusts pick up as he begins to pound into you, chasing his release. He grips your hips and neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. The moment his lips meet yours, it feels like your mind has become cloudy, unable to think about anything other than the feeling of him inside you. You didn’t know how someone’s lips had the power to wipe your mind clean of any thoughts. 

Steve shoves a hand between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and immediately pressing on it. Rolling it between his fingers before stroking it while his cock continues to hit deep inside. “Cum for me, little swan. Let me feel you milk my cock.” Steve groans, pressing closer to you as he whispers against your lips. 

Your head falls back against the tree, feeling your cunt pulse and throb as Steve continues to rub your swollen clit and thrust against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Go on, little swan. Cum for me.” Your eyes cross as Steve buries himself deep inside of you, your toes curl as you squeeze him. You feel your orgasm ripple through you, your moans echoing throughout the forest.

“My good little swan.” He growls out as he fucks into you before his cum shoots out, painting your walls a pretty white. As Steve softens inside of you, he pulls back to look at your face and grins almost evilly, the back of his hand stroking your cheek. “You’re going to make such a pretty Queen, little swan.”

You would learn that you may think you know someone but everyone has a little bit of darkness lurking within and you just happened to be the target.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[hyperfixatorofweirdthings]

Saver of the Haven

This will be my first post ever hope it's good :3

Chapter 1: The beginning of a long story

You wake up cold sweat dripping down your back as you take deep raspy breaths. Swinging your head side to side sporadically. You realize you are laying on a couch. A nightmare you couldn't remember exactly having awoken you so suddenly. You dig through all your thoughts.

Panic sets in as you wonder if the factory was just a dream, or a nightmare depending on how you think of it. You hoped it wasn't, you helped all of the toys in Safe Haven escape. Though Yarnaby caught your leg, you had kept moving on helping every toy you could escape that awful place.

As you went to stand up pain shot through your left leg as the realization hit you like a brick wall. You whimpered in pain as you tried to stand. You looked around the room which was pitch dark except for the green glowing light of the fan lights and a small night light the younger kids convinced you to turn on. You walk slowly and gingerly to your bedroom but before you could you hear a quiet voice. "Angel?" You were called that at the factory..no it can't be. You look towards the voice seeing Dogday laying on the floor in a sleeping bag staring sleepily up at you. You almost cried, it really wasn't a dream.

He looks up at you, concern spreading across his face as he tried to read your expression. You decide to reassure him kindly, a smile spreading across your face, "I'm fine, just go back to sleep Dogday." He nods slightly his face not changing but he did shift positions.

You grab a flashlight from your bag that was next to where you were just asleep. You glance at the kitchen seeing the glow of the microwave clock "4:30". You click your flashlight on making sure not to step on toys. It all flooded back to you the toys being to scared to sleep in your guest rooms insisting on sleeping with you in the living room. Them being so scared but excited to be in a loving home once again. Even the toys playing around energetically.

You limped your way to your room wanting to take care of this scratch when you hear another voice soft but stern, "Now what are you doing with a injury like that?" You immediately realize it's Doey. He was siting by a smiling critter, a Bobby Bearhug as he glanced up at you. His normal silly smile on his face. His smile was so infectious you couldn't help but smile back. "I'm fine Doey I'm an adult I think I can handle a little scratch." You respond. He grimaces he knows just as well as you it isn't "just a scratch" but you were stubborn so he just shook his head slightly. "I really think you should rest you haven't had the time to in weeks." He insists as you try to walk away.

You roll your eyes, again saying you were fine and perfectly able of dealing with your little problem. He dropped the argument not wanting to wake anyone up, he watched as you walked away. Inside himself Kevin was just screaming at you for walking on your leg. Jackie was worried sick. Matthew wanted to continue trying to convince you to relax but it was no use for now.

You make it to your bedroom opening the door as quietly as you possibly could. You slip in locking the door behind you with a relieved sigh. You decide to take a shower and change, it had been weeks maybe even months since you showered. You unwrapped your scratch on your leg cringing at how bad it looked. You turned the hot water on and stepped in. It felt heavenly. You try to take a quick shower but also enjoy the warm water. You finish the shower as quickly as you dared. Putting on a t-shirt and jeans. You rewrap your leg in bandages trying to be as careful as you could so as not to irritate it to much.

You walk out of your private little bathroom feeling refreshed. You stumble over to your closet wondering if you have a pair of crutches maybe even just one would help. You rummage through it trying to stay quiet. You eventually find one letting out a tiny cry of triumph. You immediately walk over to your night stand grabbing your phone. You were so glad you left it here you probably would've lost it already or broke it had you brought it to the factory. You slip it into your pocket walking out of your bedroom. You were ready for what the world was gonna throw at you, your first day back home after so long.

As you walk out of your room you nearly run into Doey standing right in front of you. His usual silly goofy smile stretched into a thin line as he looked down at your leg. You let loose a nervous chuckle as you try to walk past him. He let's a heavy sigh escape him as he watches you hobble your way to the kitchen. You gotta make the toys something to eat after all.

After going through the fridge, cabinets, and the pantry you come to a conclusion. You'd have to go to the store to get something sufficient. But you really couldn't leave the toys alone. Not yet. You eventually find a box of goldfish. Not even opened. You count how many toys you were gonna have to make bowls for and get to work.

You made bowls for everyone. But yourself. You didn't mind not having one, you'd survive. Doey walked over as you were finishing up tilting his head slightly. "What..is that?" You gasp he hasn't had goldfish before!? You look at him terror across your face. "You're kidding right?" He shakes his head wondering if he had said something wrong. You practically melt at the thought. You decide to ask, "Not one of you has had it? Not even Jackie?" Doey is nervous at first about you referring to one consciousness but shakes his head again. You let out a sad sigh.

You grab a bowl shoving it into his hands as he looks down at it. He stares at the crackers for a minute before you grab one plopping it into your mouth. You motion for him to try one. He grabs one slowly putting it in his mouth. He hums with delight at the taste. Eating a few more. All three boys decided this was the best thing they'd had in a long time. You chuckle as they eat the whole bowl. He then clears his throat setting the bowl by the sink as he looks at you. He counts how many toys there is before counting the bowls. He comes to the conclusion you don't have a bowl. Before he can argue with you about it something touches his leg.

A mini Kissy Missy looks up at him. His usual smile appears as he picks them up sitting them in a chair. He then realizes they are a bit small. He grabs a few pillows to give them a bit more height. They laugh as he does this. They see the bowl of goldfish stars in their eyes. "What's that?" They ask after a while. You respond with "That's goldfish, go ahead have some." They immediately start eating the bowl. You chuckle as you go to wake up some more of the toys, gently lifting them up or tapping them on the shoulder. More and more of the toys woke up looking up at you. Doey gets to work grabbing pillows and blankets to make it easier for them to sit at the table and eat. Everyone slowly woke up eating and chatting happily as you watched. Dogday eventually sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He stood up and came to stand next to you, making you jump slightly. Everyone was sitting and eating as you watched, a smile on your face.

You can do this.

[kissenturine]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 kazuha x m!reader — 5.1k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: strangers to lovers, mentions and use of alcohol (no drunk sex though), kazuha and reader are roommates, sort of college / modern au, morning sex / sleepy sex, praise, pet names (good boy [?], angel, uh i cant remember sorry), aftercare is not written but it is given, praise teehee, reader rides kazuha, kazuha jerks reader off, lmk if i missed any thanks :3

KAI SAYS: GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!! birthday post im now 20 that sounds so old euugghh

Rent was hell.

Your minimum income, which was mostly spent on necessities and college fees, was barely able to pay last month. And now with inflation, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through another year.

But, there was always hope. It was only the beginning of June after all.

Last week, your friend introduced you to a website to find roommates. Having a roommate would solve a few of my problems, you thought as you scrolled through the site on your computer. For one, the rent would be split between the two of you, which was much more manageable than right now. And, for two, you would get to actually talk to someone every day.

It would be a win-win situation if the two of you got along.

After a few days of thinking everything through, looking at different people’s profiles, because the site was a “Tinder for roommates,” as your friend had put it, you found a man that matched your preferences.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

From what you could tell by his profile, he looked like a sweet man. His profile picture was set to a white cat, and you can see his hand atop its head, gently petting against the cat’s ears. You hadn’t met him in person yet, but through text, you’d managed to get to know him a bit.

The two of you texted about your hobbies and Kauha told you about his life. He was getting a degree in poetry at a college near your house, which is why he selected the area. He told you earlier today about himself. He liked to eat fish and go drinking out. He liked staying with animals he liked warm weather and sunny days, and he liked to spend time with his loved ones and friends.

To be honest, he seemed a bit too good to be true.

But, you think, I suppose some people are just like that.

With a content sigh, you shut your computer. You’d texted Kazuha and the two of you had planned for him to move in today. It seemed a little quick to you, but Kazuha said he didn’t really have anything big to move over. According to him, he’d only be bringing one suitcase and backpack.

Yesterday, you cleaned out the guest room—well, know his room. It was tedious work, something you hoped you wouldn’t have to do again. Ever. But, you supposed it would be worth it in time.

So now here you were, sanding proudly with your hands on your hips smiling at your spotless house. Kazuha better like it here… You think. Your hand goes to run through your hair gently, combing it back. You’re about to flop down onto the couch and maybe take a nap—only for the familiar tune of the doorbell to ring through the house, echoing and bouncing off the walls.

Your head snaps backwards, a nervous smile making its way onto your lips.

You rush to the door, ignoring the slight shake in your step. Your heartbeat quickens and you don’t know why. Kazuha’s a nice man. You remind yourself, though you don’t think that’s why you're nervous.

Slowly, you unlock your door and turn the doorknob with your other hand. And there, standing to greet you is your new roommate. Kaedehara Kazuha.

You greet him with a polite smile, cracking open the door just enough to let him inside. The roll of his suitcase from the sidewalk outside up onto the flooring of your house sends a loud ‘Clunk! Clunk!’ sound and you wince a little.

You shut the door behind you, schooling your expression as you turn back to Kazuha. He trunks to you quickly and smiles gently. “Ah,” he says and his voice is so soft when he speaks, “I’m Kazuha, but I suppose you already know that.”

You introduce yourself, finishing off the same as him with a short, “but I suppose you already knew that too.”

He nods politely a small laugh flitting out of his lips. You lead him to his new bedroom, helping him carry his backpack as he lifts his suitcase, not wanting the wheels to dirty the floor. Kazuha takes a look around, his smile being ever present as you drop his backpack by the door.

“It’s nice here.” He comments, turning his gaze from you to his bedroom.

A bashful grin makes its way to your lips. “Thanks.” You murmur. “Cleaned just for you.”

With that, he’s looking back at you. “Just for me?” He responds, and there’s an edge of playfulness that lies beneath the overlaying gratefulness in his tone. “Thank you.”

You just nod, not fully trusting your voice.

After a moment, Kazuha sits down at the edge of his bed, tracing his hands over the expanse of the duvet. “We should go out sometime.” He says and you blink. You’re face feels warm and you hope Kazuha doesn’t see.

“Like…” Your voice trails off, leaving your sentence unfinished. Like a date? You wanted to say, but your lips don’t seem to work.

Kazuha seems to take note of this, chuckling softly. “Just to get to know each other better. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy.” He gives you a comforting smile and your nervousness seems to dissipate when you look at him.

“Ok.” You agree. “We can plan something for after you’ve gotten more… settled in.”

Kazuha’s smile widens and he gives you a nod. “Thanks.”

You take a deep breath, before speaking up again. “I’ll leave you to it then.” You turn on your heel before walking out of Kazuha’s new bedroom. You shut the door gently before speed-walking to your room and collapsing onto your bed.

Your breathing comes out in soft puffs as you bury your face into a pillow, curling yourself on your bed. What the fuck was that? You cry mentally. You grip onto the bedsheets tightly. Your heart is beating fast and you think it’d beat tight through your ribs if you don’t calm down soon. You bring your hands to your face, dragging them across your eyes. “I’m fucked.” You curse quietly. Kazuha’s so nice! You know you probably won’t even last a month without developing some sort of feelings for him and that scares you. 

You… don’t want to ruin what little the two of you had managed to build up in the past week. As little as it was, you like what you have with Kazuha. In the back of your mind, though, there’s the nagging feeling for more. You want to get closer to Kazuha, you want to spend time with him.

Maybe that date of his wouldn’t be too bad.

With a heavy sigh, you twist your body to lay like a starfish, sprawled across your bed. You turn your gaze to your window, squinting as the sunlight fans through the glass and into your eyes. If you just ignored any feelings that developed, they would just go away, right?

The first six days with Kazuha were… different from your usual routine, to put it simply.

On Monday (because everyone knows the week starts with Monday and not Sunday!) you awoke to the smell of food wafting through the house. You were instantly up and out of bed, barely managing to throw on a shirt—backwards—before you stumbled into the kitchen.

You were taken aback by the sight that greeted you.

Kazuha, in his pyjamas and an apron, was humming a soft tune as he cooked something on the stove. He turns once he notices you, standing in shock by the doorway. “Ah,” he said, “I see you’re finally awake.” He humed, using the spatula to plate a scrambled egg. He handed you the plate and Archons it smelled good. “I made breakfast. Used some of your food, if you don’t mind.”

You absentmindedly nodded, entranced by the way he moved around the kitchen, putting things in the dishwasher, plating his food, and turning off the stove. All of those were such ordinary things, but, for some reason, it just made you more drawn to him.

You brought your plate to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, still watching Kazuha. “Thanks for breakfast.” You murmured after a few bites. “It’s really good.”

“Well, it’s only natural I repay you somehow.” Kazuha said before sitting down beside you. “You basically lent me your house to live in.” He joked.

“Our house now.” You responded. “Since you’ll be payin’ half the rent.”

Kazuha nods, taking a bite out of his own breakfast. “I plan on spending the week organizing my stuff. Nothing big, just getting everything tidy.” The two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of the summer weather.

Besides that, Monday wasn’t anything eventful.

Tuesday was spent helping Kazuha. Cooped up in his room, the two of you went through his clothes and belongings, organizing them into his closet and drawers. Kazuha had a decent amount of clothes, which were the bulk of what he brought.

You talked and talked and talked with Kazuha. He was so sweet. You swore you’d told yourself that a million times by now, but it was always true. Kazuha’s laugh was soft and kind, he laughed at all your stupid, cheesy jokes, no matter how unfunny they were. He’d help you cook meals—much better than you ever could.

Tuesday was when you had come to realize that maybe you were enjoying his company a little too much. But, you thought, he’s just… fun to be around.

You used that excuse for the rest of the week.

Kazuha was just… nice. Everyone would enjoy his company like this. You were no different!

It was a pathetic excuse, but it was pathetic enough for you to cling onto.

Wednesday you and Kazuha went out and you showed him the neighbourhood as the two of you walked to the store for some groceries. Kazuha took an oddly long time looking through the fruits and vegetables section, eyeing each piece we selected carefully before placing it into the plastic bag we used to carry everything.

It was endearing.

After a good forty-five minutes of walking around the store, the two of you finally decided to head to the cashier for check out. Kazuha was polite as he made idle chatter with them, but you couldn’t help the frown that pulled at your face.

You were right there. If he wanted to talk to someone, why couldn’t it be you? You were sure you were more entertaining than that cashier worker.

But you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. You pulled out your credit card, expecting to pay, only for Kazuha to gently pull your hand back. “Let me.” He says gently. Your eyes dart to him and your face flushes when you feel his hand graze gently over yours as he pulls it back.

He wanted to pay for you.

Ah, if you hadn’t fallen for him yet, you sure as hell had now.

He taps his card quickly and you barely manage to make it out of the store while avoiding Kazuha’s gaze.

Things only started to set in on Thursday.

You’d woken up with a heavy migraine and a grumpy mood, so it didn’t come as a surprise that you didn’t want to talk to anyone. Unfortunately, that also included Kazuha. And yet, Kazuha didn’t push you when you refused to talk to him while the two of you ate breakfast.

“Good morning,” He had said in greeting. “How’re you?”

You don’t respond, only taking the plate of food he’d set aside for you. You’re swift to finish your food; shovelling it into your mouth and not even bothering to wait for Kazuha.

He, on the other hand, still had that oh-so-sweet smile of his plastered across his pretty lips. “I’ll take it you’re not feeling great, then.” He murmurs. Kazuha gets up from his seat beside you before handing you a glass of water. “You should drink up. Water’s very good for you, so I’m sure it’ll help you a bit.”

You do as he said, chugging the glass of water in one go. “Thanks.” You whisper. Those were the first words you said to him that day, and you could already feel your migraine easing up. Kazuha is like magic, you think, he fixes everything without even trying.

You gave Kazuha a half-hearted smile before placing your plate and utensils in the dishwasher and heading to your room to take a nap. Naps always seemed to ease your headaches.

As you collapsed on your bed, snuggling up under your heavy duvet, your thoughts drifted back to Kazuha. He was sweet, but you’d also come to the realization that he was handsome. His hair was always up into a ponytail, with that little section of red swooping on top of his ear. His eyes are quite pretty, too. You thought. A shimmering red that often matched the clothes he wore, sparkling as he laughed. And his hands, they looked so gentle as he carried things around. His fingers worked effortlessly as he wrote his poetry in that small notebook of his.

“This man,” you whispered to yourself, “is too good to be true.”

On Friday, Kazuha let you have the honour of brushing and tying up his hair.

He’d caught you staring at him as he sat on his bed, his fingers wove through his white locks. With a raised eyebrow, he beckons you over, handing you a red hair tie. “Mind helping me?” He asked softly.

You complied eagerly, scooting behind him. You ran your hand through his hair, gently scooping it behind his shoulders. Kazuha let out a soft hum, as he nodded in content. Carefully, you pull his hair into a ponytail, twisting the thin band to wrap carefully around it a few more times.

“There.” You said. “It’s done.”

Kazuha turned to face you, his knees pressed much too close to yours. “Thank you.” He grinned, grabbing your hand to rest in between his cool ones. “I really appreciate this.”

Your face flushed, an embarrassing warmth coating your cheeks. You brought your free hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of your neck before mumbling out a response. “No problem, Kazuha.”

Saturday was spent planning the two of your guys’ “date” that would be happening on Sunday.

Kazuha suggested a picnic, and you couldn’t help but agree. Maybe it was the thought of spending a day with him, or maybe it was how he wanted to spend a day with you, but you knew you would’ve agreed to anything he said.

The picnic would be on Sunday, in a park the two of you found online.

After a very successful planning session, the two of you spent the rest of the day preparing and packaging food for the picnic.

It was somewhat chaotic—but it was also fun.

Kazuha taught you how to make his favourite sandwich, how to toast the bread perfectly, and how to cut each one into little heart shapes. All with a soft smile dancing on his pretty lips as he guided your hands gently, easing the knife into the bread.

Archons, you were fucked. How’re you supposed to live with him, like this, every day?

And now, it’s Sunday; the day of the picnic.

Your foot taps nervously against the floor of your bedroom. What am I supposed to wear? Yes, you do know you’re probably overthinking this, but you can’t help it! Not when it’s because of Kazuha! You have to make sure you’re always looking your best!

Your cheeks puff out as a heavy sigh leaves your lips, eventually settling on your outfit of the day.

Finally ready, you nervously open the door, heading out to meet Kazuha in the kitchen.

He greets you with a smile and a call of your name. His arms find their way around your waist in a tight hug and you blink. Oh, oh, oh, oh—what do I do!? When did he get so… touchy?! Not that I’m complaining but—You stand frozen, yet Kazuha doesn’t seem to mind. He pulls back with his signature smile. “You’re ready to go?” He questions, taking a step towards the front door.

“Y-Yeah.” You manage to stutter out. “I’m ready.”

“Great!” He grabs your hand, leading you out of your shared home. He doesn’t let go as the two of you walk to the park. With the picnic basket in his free hand, Kazuha still grips yours gently as he leads you. His thumb runs over the skin of your hand absentmindedly. You think it’s supposed to be a calming gesture, but, it only makes your heart beat faster and your face go warm.

You eventually find yourself in a large field, small flowers adorning the grass. Kazuha tugs a blanket out of his bag, laying it over the grass. He plops down on it, patting the space beside him as he does. “Sit with me.” He says.

You comply quickly, placing your own basket down and taking a spot beside him. “...Thanks for doing this with me.” You murmur, giving Kazuha a shy glance.

He only grins in response, digging through his bag and handing you one of the sandwiches you prepared yesterday. “It’s nothing, really.” He smiles, and you feel a tingle go through your hand where his finger brushes over yours. “I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you too.” You match his expression, your lips pulling into a smile. It hasn’t even been a week, and yet it feels like you’ve known Kazuha for years.

Kazuha grins, reaching into his bag. “Good.” is all he responds before pulling something out. Is that a wine bottle? “Now, would you like a drink?”

You… never took Kazuha as a drinker.

And yet, here he is, drunk out of his mind as slurs slip from his lips. Kazuha calls out your name, his head slipping onto your shoulder as his hands grip the blanket the two of you are sitting on. “Do you…” He trails off. “Do youuu… wanna watch th-the sunset w’me?” He slurs his eyes fixing on yours from his position on your shoulder.

You cough awkwardly. “Kazuha.” You say softly, easing his head off your shoulder. “It’s four-thirty in the afternoon. The sunsets not coming out anytime soon…”

“B-But—” He whines. “It woulda been soooo romantic.” Kazuha grins, his eyes lolling shut as he slumps against your chest this time. “Jus’ you, me, an’ the flowers.”

“Oh, Kazuha.” You sigh. “I’d love to watch the sunset with you, but we have to get you home before dark. It’d be dangerous walking out drunk at night.”

“No!” He cries. “I could… could protect you… from th’danger.”

“Nope.” You say, trying not to let his words affect you. “We’re going home now, okay?”

“Okayyyy.” He whines, dragging out the word as he says it. “But only—only cause you said so.”

“Good.” You wrap an arm around Kazuha, right under his shoulder as you help him stand. You leave him for a bit, turning around to pick up the blanket and his bag. “Kazuha!” You call, and he’s instantly behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing his face into your neck.

“Hm?” He coos. “D’ya need something?”

The warmth of Kazuha’s breath fans over the skin of your neck, goosebumps rising lowly. “N-Need you to carry your stuff.” You mumble. Your hands remove Kazuha’s from your waist, shifting to grab his wrist as you gently drag him off you. “Let’s go home now.”

Carefully, you take Kazuha home, not really minding his drunk ramblings. He goes on and on about the sunset, about how he’d stare into your eyes and giggle while he holds your hand and the sun sets.

It is endearing seeing him drunk out of his mind and yet still so lovey-dovey.

It only takes the two of you a fifteen-minute walk to reach your home and you’re quick to open the door and let Kazuha in, the two of you dropping your stuff as you help him up the stairs, your arm wrapped snugly around his waist. He slurs your name again, his pretty red eyes meeting yours. “C-Can we cuddle…?” He whines and you instantly turn your head, wanting to hide the warmth on your cheeks.

“I…” You whisper. “You’re drunk. Let’s just get you in bed first.”

“Noo!” Kazuha cries, planting his feet on the ground, stopping you. “Y’always make me wait! Made me wait for our date, now you're still makin’ me wait when I jus’ want cuddles!”

“Kazuha, really, maybe we should—” You try to protest, only to be interrupted.

“Please,” Kazuha whines pitifully, “Jus’ for a bit.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a deep exhale. “You’re still drunk,” you start, “but fine. I guess some cuddles won’t hurt.”

Kazuha grins happily, snaking his arms around you, just under your arms as he lifts you into the air. “You’re th’best!” He slurs. “Come, cuddles time.” With that, he’s lifting you up and carrying you over into his bedroom.

He tosses you gently onto the bed and you land with a quiet: “Oof!” Before you feel the bed dip as Kazuha joins you. His arms find their familiar place around you and his nore presses into the back of your head as he twists your body into a spooning position with his. One of Kazuha’s legs is haphazardly thrown over yours, and you feel completely engulfed in, well, Kazuha.

“You’re so handsome.” Kazuha whispers into your hair. “My handsome boy.” He presses a kiss to the back of your head, and you have to remind yourself that Kazuha is drunk. He won’t remember any of this, nor will he ever act like this again.

Still, you end up leaning into the touch, falling asleep slowly, basking in Kazuha’s comforting warmth and love.

When you wake up, Kazuha’s body is tangled with yours. His head is on your chest and his arms are wound tightly around your waist. One of his legs is positioned between yours, his knee pressing against you.

You tug him closer, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. Kazuha’s head dips between your shoulder and your neck, nuzzling into the spot. You can feel the small puffs of air his lips let out against your skin as he breathes, matching the pattern of your heartbeat as he does.

You grin, pulling yourself to sit up—only to be yanked completely down by Kazuha. “Don’ move, please.” He whispers. “Need t’feel ya.”

“Kazuha.” You complain. “You’re not even drunk anymore—”

“No.” Kazuha murmurs. “Need to feel you.” As the words leave his lips, he shifts his body, pressing his hips flush against your ass. 

Something firm pokes into you from behind and—

Oh.

That’s what he meant by feel you.

Kazuha’s hips start a steady grind against you, pushing his erection into your ass as he murmurs breathless nothings into your ear. A desperate whine slips from his lips as he slowly moves his hands from around you to on you, roaming your chest and up your neck.

“Need you.” Kauzha murmurs slowly. “Need you so bad.”

“I know.” You say, turning onto your side to face Kazuha.

He smiles at you, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “Please let me have you.” He whines.

You smile, leaning into his touch and pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “Of course, you can have me. I’ve been all yours from the start.”

Kazuha’s lips press against yours as he gently pushes you to lie on your back against the bed. His hands trace your sides, going from your neck to your hips as he pulls your pants down. He releases you from his kiss, the both of you gasping for air as he yanks down your boxers with impressive speed.

A soft whine slips from your throat, needily grinding your hips into the air. “Kazuha…” You moan, needing his touch desperatley. “C-Can you just—”

“I know.” He coos, trailing his hand to your hard cock. “I know, pretty boy, but I jus’ wanna take my time with you, ‘kay?”

You hesitantly nod, bringing your hand to thread through Kazuha’s hair as he peppers an assortment of kisses all over your cheeks. His hand starts a slow rhythm, gliding up and down the shaft of your cock slowly.

His grip is teasing, the way he squeezes up as he reaches your tip, dragging the pad of his thumb down your dick as he does. Kazuha’s fist moves quicker, watching as your eyes scrunch up in pure ecstasy from his ministrations. “That’s it.” He murmurs encouragingly. “C’mon, I know you’re close…”

A gasp leaves your lips as Kazuha drags his thumb over your slit, rolling it and smearing your precum everywhere, watching with nothing but a pleased smile as your hips frantically twitch in his hold. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck—right bellow your ear before giving the spot a teasing lick.

Kazuha’s hands work at your dick again and again, sliding with a steady rhythm up and down until your brain feels muddled and hazy. You grip at his wrist, not knowing if you want him to stop or keep going.

“K-Kazuha,” you whine, “please.”

A soft laugh leaves his lips and he once again kisses your neck. “Shh.” He murmurs. “Be patient, my dear.” With that, he’s pressing a harsh bite into your supple skin, letting his teeth graze over before digging them into you. A loud moan slips from your lips, your dick twitching over and over until your eyes are squeezing shut and thick ropes of milky white shoot from your tip all over your tummy and Kazuha’s hand.

“O-Oh.” You manage to squeak out. “You’re good at this.”

Kazuha smiles, helping the both of you sit up—with you in between his knees with his erection still pressed into the curve of your ass. He rolls you over, bringing your hips ontop of his as he pulls his leaking cock out of his pants, watching intently as you practically drool at the sight.

“Ride me, please.” Kazuha whispers, his desperation clear in his tone. You wrap a hand around his dick, rolling the pad of your thumb against his tip before lifting your hips. You line him up quickly, feeling the head of his cock push against your hole. Your mouth drops open, a low whine leaving your lips.

Slowly, slowly, very slowly, you sink down on his cock, taking him all the way in. You’re about halfway in—from what little you can tell—when Kazuha grabs your hips. His eyes are teary, staring into yours as he grabs the fat of your ass, and pulls you down.

A loud moan slips freely from your lips and you collapse onto Kazuha, the both of you panting heavily.

“A-Archons.” He whispers, his fingers rubbing smooth circles over your hips. “You’re so tight, angel.”

Angel.

He called you angel.

You bury your face into Kazuha’s neck, taking in his scent as you breathe. “Kazu…” You whine. “Need you so bad.”

“I know, pretty.” He whispers. His grip on your hips tightens as you lift your head off him and look into his eyes. His deep, red eyes. “C’mon. I’ll help you, ‘kay?” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before leading you to sit up above him. His finger taps against your waist before he starts. “Lift your hips f’me.” Kazuha instructs and you comply quickly, lifting your hips before dropping back down.

As soon as you drop down, Kazuha’s tip knocks against your prostate harshly and you cry out, your hands barely managing to find purchase against his shoulders. “Good boy.” Kazuha whispers sweetly, running his hands over your chest. “Jus’ like that…” He murmurs. “Think you can keep going?” You nod eagerly, lifting your hips again only to drop down.

Your thighs shake but you don’t care! Not when it feels so good to be bouncing on Kazuha’s dick like this. Not when he hits all those good spots that make you see stars as your eyes roll back.

“Kazuha.” You moan out, rocking your hips tirelessly up and down his dig. You can feel the drag against every vein against your walls, the way he nudges just right against your prostate. Your eyes roll back as your dick twitches against your tummy, drooling pre uselessly as you ride Kazuha up and down, over and over again.

“T-That’s it, pretty.” He whispers. Kazuha’s hands come to grip your ass again, picking up the pace for you as he starts to buck his hips up and into your awaiting hole. “I—holy shit—I’m close.” He whimpers, and you swear there’ll be bruises from how tight he grips your waist. “Need to cum—” He whines, his eyes squeezing shut.

You nod your head eagerly your ass squeezing so tightly around him as he picks up the pace, fucking into you harder. You need to feel him, feel him shoot his load into you. You need it, need Kazuha, need every part of him.

Every time he thrusts, you feel yourself get closer and closer to that sweet release the both of you seek. “Kazu…” You moan out. “Close, close—need you t’k-keep goin’”

“I know.” He whimpers. “I know, ‘m not stopping.” Your eyes rolled back, the familiar warmth building in the pit of your tummy. The way Kazuha’s hands trailed over your thighs—everything he did was begging your body to surrender to the familiar pleasure.

“A-At the same time.” You plead, gripping onto Kazuha’s arm. He only nod, his eyes squeezing shut.

You clench around him and Kazuha throws his head back against the pillows as he buries his dick into you, his hips meeting yours in one final, harsh thrust. He pulls your body close, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he whispers sweet nothings into you.

You feel him cum, a thick load going right into you. You whine, tightening so sweetly around him as your own orgasm hit. “H-Holy…” You whimper, not hvaing the energy to finish your sentence. Your dick twitches between the two of you and you cum. Hard.

Kazuha’s grip around you tightens as he doesn’t even bother to pull out. He grabs the blanket, bringing it over the two of you as he nuzzles your face into his neck, your body still twitching.

Archons. You think, watching Kazuha’s eyes close gently. The sunlight falls onto his face, like a golden halo around his perfect features. How long has it been with him? A week?

Only a week, and you’d managed to fall in love.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @helloanime @kiekole (send ask without anon to be added)

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[marzipanandminutiae]

Heartbreaking: Worst Person You Know Has A Point

so, Gabriel and Sara Chrisman, right? Victorian lifestyler couple from Bellingham, Washington. also assholes who are on-record comparing bad costuming at historical events to blackface, claiming that women's suffrage activists were "misguided" and didn't really NEED to vote, and apparently expressing anti-vaxx sentiments on a now-deleted video. we've all seen them

in 2016, they were denied entry to the Butchart Gardens in British Columbia- after booking ahead for both tickets and a separately-priced high tea -because they were wearing "costumes." a policy not then articulated on the gardens' website

now, while they expressed this in the most obnoxious and thoughtless way possible on their blog post about the matter ("would you ask a Muslim woman to remove her hijab?" and "well WE were dressed decently; everyone else was almost naked!!!!!" and oh my god shut your histrionic FACES)...I kind of agree with them in principle here?

it seems like a really weird policy/situation on several levels:

the gardens claimed that they didn't want the Chrismans mistaken for entertainers hired by the site. but they offered them spare staff uniforms to change into? which would make them look like literal employees of BG?

the amended policy added to the website after the incident says that "historic dress" is not allowed. where's the cutoff? would I be turned away if i showed up in a peplum top, a mustache necklace, and coral skinny jeans? How Modern to Ride, Butchart Gardens?

vintage fashion is very popular and a lot of people who wear it don't even keep modern-style clothing. I don't; why would I? so it's not a "costume" for everyone, by a long shot

furthermore, a review from 2014 had a woman who showed up in a modern white sundress turned away with her boyfriend in a linen suit (no tie) because they looked "too formal/like a wedding couple." they were there for the high tea

so you advertise high tea, something notably dressy...and then deny people service for being too dressed up? where is the logic here?

"okay Marzi, but it's surely clarified now! this was nine years ago; who cares?"

well...it's not

or, it is, but it's not easy to find

when you go on the website, there's a drop-down menu at the top with links for info and to buy tickets. there IS an FAQ page...but no mention of the Modern Casual Only dress code

you have to scroll down to the bottom of any page and click a tiny link marked "garden etiquette" to see this policy. so someone like me, who literally does not own modern clothing, could EASILY book tickets, plan a whole day of their trip around it- and then show up and be turned away as too anachronistic for admission

("they should have read the whole page though!" dressing historically isn't a problem in 99% of life situations, including museums, botanical gardens, etc. nobody would assume they should be looking for this with the rigor of an allergen on a menu, or disability accomodations. it's not an issue most of the time, so we're not accustomed to treating it like one)

anyway. I can't believe I'm on the Chrismans' side on anything besides "historical clothing pretty" but...here we are. weirdest guest policy at a botanical garden ever

[the-southlands]

RoP Ask Game!

We thought it might be a fun to do an ask game. If you want people to send you an ask, simply reblog this post. :-)

THE QUESTIONS

How did you find out about Rings of Power? What was the one thing that drew you to the show?

Who is your favourite character and why? 

If you could spend one day with a character, who would it be? What would you do together?

What’s your favourite location in RoP? 

What’s your favourite song or piece of music from RoP? 

Where would you most like to live in RoP and why?

What minor character would you like to see more of? 

What accessory would you like most to own? (sword, brooch, crown, etc.)

Whose costume would you like most to try on?

Choose three characters. What jobs would they have if they lived in our time?

Which social media site would your favourite character use the most?

What colour do you associate with your favourite character?

There is a lot of music in Tolkien. What character would you wish to sing in RoP? What would they sing about? To whom?

Do you have a song you associate with a favourite character?

Who would you write a poem for in RoP and why?

Name three characters that have dog energy and three that have cat energy.

What do you think “Halbrand” said to the warg puppy?

Which character would you most like to go to a pub with?

Which characters who haven't shared screen time yet would you most like to meet one another?

Name three of your favourite scenes (or lines, or scenes and lines).

Based on the various dinner scenes we have seen so far, to whose table would you most like to be invited as a guest?

Were you familiar with Tolkien's writings before you watched RoP? What’s your favourite, or what might you like to read after seeing the show?

If you could give a present to a favourite character, what would it be?

What is your favourite story line in RoP?

What people or community in Tolkien’s world is your favourite and why?

If you could ask the creative team behind RoP one question, what would it be?

Which person involved in the show would you most like to meet in person? What would you say to them?

Do you have any headcanons about a character, or the world? What are they? 

Describe your favourite character using three emojis.

Choose three characters (not necessarily your favourite ones). Say three positive things about each of them.

[starset21]

Furmidable Distraction |YT22|

Pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x reader

Summery: A sudden summer storm at Suzuka throws the paddock into chaos—and into your arms, a tiny, shivering black kitten. As hospitality scrambles to stay afloat, you find unexpected help in Yuki Tsunoda, who surprises you with quiet kindness and a soft spot for the stray. Together, you navigate rain-soaked golf carts, emergency tuna rations, and a new companion named Podium.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships. May contain google translated languages.

A/N: Still kinda riding the high of the notes on plot twist so here I am with a Yuki fic <3

The storm had come out of nowhere—typical Suzuka, everyone said.

One moment the sun was beating down relentlessly on the paddock, warming the asphalt and sending waves of heat rising into the humid air. The next, clouds rolled in dark and fast, and rain hammered the trackside with the sudden ferocity of a summer typhoon. Practice sessions ground to a halt, team members scrambled for cover, and umbrellas bloomed like black flowers in the chaotic downpour.

You were supposed to be coordinating hospitality, making sure VIP guests had umbrellas and snacks, keeping the chaos manageable. Instead, you found yourself crouched beside a puddle not far from the Red Bull hospitality, your jacket hood shielding a tiny, shivering black kitten who mewed desperately against your chest.

How it had gotten there, you had no idea. You weren’t much of a cat person, and yet, the kitten’s small, fragile cries cut through the noise and tension of the paddock. You wrapped it carefully in your hoodie, whispering soft reassurances you weren’t even sure you believed yourself.

“Hey.”

The voice startled you, low and rough.

You looked up to see Yuki Tsunoda rolling up in a golf cart, droplets of rain dripping from his hair plastered to his forehead. His usual scowl was softened by exhaustion, but his eyes were sharp, curious. He was dripping wet but didn’t seem to care.

“What are you doing?” he asked, nodding toward the kitten nestled against your chest.

You shrugged, cheeks warming despite the chill. “Found this guy just outside. Thought I’d... take care of him?”

Yuki blinked, then sighed—a long, exaggerated sigh full of something close to amusement. “Come on,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know anything about cats, but I can’t leave him out here.”

He pulled the golf cart closer and helped you gently transfer the kitten into a small cardboard box you’d found near the garbage bins. The kitten wriggled in protest but stayed nestled between your hands. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching too closely—a mix of embarrassment and genuine concern flickering behind his eyes.

“Let’s get him somewhere dry,” he added.

You climbed onto the golf cart next to him, the box balanced carefully on your lap. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the humid air still clung to your skin. As Yuki maneuvered the cart through the paddock, you noticed how his usually sharp gaze softened every time he glanced at the kitten.

“We can take him to my driver’s room,” Yuki offered, his voice low but steady. “It’s small, but it’s warm. And dry.”

You nodded gratefully, surprised by the unexpected kindness.

Yuki swiped his card and opened the door to the drivers’ rooms—sleek, functional spaces decorated with racing gear and team memorabilia.

Inside, Yuki set the box on the floor carefully, crouching down to check on the kitten. The little creature peeked out, its wide eyes blinking up at him with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“You think he’s hungry?” Yuki asked, scratching the back of his neck, clearly out of his element but genuinely concerned.

You nodded. “Probably. I don’t know much about kittens, but they need food and warmth.”

Yuki pulled out his phone with a small sigh. “Well, I guess I’m asking Max for help.”

He typed quickly, then showed you the message: “Hey, Max. Random question — what do you feed a kitten if you find one in the paddock?”

Within seconds, his phone buzzed with a reply.

Max: Haha, only you would find a kitten during a GP weekend. Kitten formula or wet food. And definitely keep him away from the energy drinks.

You smiled when Yuki told you, feeling lighter despite the dampness clinging to your clothes. “Well, we don’t have kitten formula around here,” you said, glancing around the room. “But maybe we can find something else.”

Yuki stood and started pacing the small room. “Wait here,” he said, already heading out the door.

You heard the soft click of the door closing behind him and waited, the kitten twitching its tiny paws inside the box. A few minutes later, Yuki returned, holding a small can of tuna he’d scrounged from a nearby hospitality fridge. “Not ideal,” he admitted, “but it’s food.”

You helped him open the can carefully, then took a dampened corner of a napkin to offer the kitten a small taste. The little black furball sniffed cautiously before lapping up the tuna eagerly.

Yuki crouched beside you, watching with a rare softness in his eyes. “Looks like someone’s happy. We should give him a name.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Podium.”

Yuki laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Podium it is. Because he fought through the rain just like a real racer.”

You smiled, a brief, genuine moment that felt like a secret shared between the three of you.

As Podium settled in, licking his little paws contentedly, the two of you exchanged a look — the unexpected companionship of a tiny kitten somehow making the chaotic weekend feel a little more grounded.

Outside, the rain had finally thinned to a soft mist, leaving streaks on the window and a damp hush over the paddock. Inside, it was quiet—save for the soft, satisfied licking of tiny kitten paws and the occasional creak of the driver’s room settling under the weight of the storm.

You and Yuki sat side by side on the floor, backs resting against the wall. Neither of you spoke for a few long moments. Podium curled into a ball in the box, full and finally warm, a quiet rise and fall to his tiny body.

“I didn’t think today would end like this,” Yuki said, breaking the silence.

You glanced at him, his gaze still fixed on the kitten. “Me neither. I thought I’d be handing out champagne flutes and shielding VIPs from the rain.”

He smirked. “And now you’re babysitting a stray with me.”

“It’s an upgrade,” you said with a small laugh. “Podium’s much better company.”

Yuki chuckled under his breath, then leaned his head back against the bed with a sigh. “I kind of needed this.”

You turned to him, brows raised. “A kitten?”

“A quiet moment,” he clarified. “No cameras, no engineers buzzing in my ear, no pressure. Just…” He gestured vaguely toward the box. “This.”

Your smile softened. “It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “You’re kind of nice.”

You blinked, caught off guard. But Yuki didn’t look away. His expression was still casual, still Yuki, but the words hung in the air between you like something more deliberate. Something... honest.

“Well,” you said, cheeks warming slightly, “so are you.”

Podium stirred, letting out a tiny sneeze that broke the moment just enough for both of you to laugh. You reached down and adjusted the hoodie still lining the bottom of the box.

Yuki nudged your arm gently with his elbow. “I mean, I didn’t expect to have a cat, either. Or company. But... it’s not bad.”

You nudged him back. “Glad I made the cut.”

Another small silence. Not awkward—just full of something unspoken.

Then Yuki stood, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. “I should probably change out of these wet clothes before I catch a cold.”

You stood too, brushing your hands on your jeans. “And I should probably check back in with the hospitality team before they think I got washed away in the storm.”

Yuki nodded, then glanced back at the kitten. “Will you come back later? Podium might need his favorite person.”

You hesitated for half a beat, but your answer was easy. “Yeah,” you said. “I’ll come back.”

And for a second—just a second—Yuki looked like he wanted to say something else. But instead, he just smiled, small and genuine.

“Good.”

~

On race day, the sun shone bright over Suzuka, the humid air thick with anticipation. Yuki’s focus was sharp, the weight of the crowd pressing on him. When the race ended, he finished strong but not on the top step. You waited in the hospitality area, the crowd’s cheers fading into the background. Suddenly, Yuki was there, approaching you with a quiet determination in his eyes.

“I wanted to say...” he started, voice low and steady, “thank you. For everything. For Podium, for the weekend... for being here.”

You smiled softly, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “It was my pleasure.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his.

“I don’t want this to be just Suzuka. I want to see you again.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I want that too,” you admitted.

Yuki’s hand squeezed yours, warm and steady.

“Good. Then let’s start with dinner. And maybe Podium can come too.”

You laughed, the tension of the week melting away like the final laps of a race.

[bibittybopittybadbxtch]

Snoop

Pairing: Choi Sungcheol x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend knows you’re a snoop. He’d never actually keep it in the house. You find a “ring box” with earrings inside. Christmas morning you go to unwrap the “earrings” and find your own personal easter egg.

Warnings: None…I think.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Hi hoes and hoochies (said with only affection)! I’m baaaccckkkkkk!!! Did ya miss me?? I have recently discovered that my ult bias had changed. This is his introduction into my oeuvre. Everyone say hello to Choi Sungcheol. *cheers and applause👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏* Please enjoy, I had sooo much fun writing this. Likes and Reblogs are welcome if you feel so compelled. BEWARE‼️‼️ spelling errors and grammar mistakes may lie ahead. PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION ⚠️⚠️

XOXO, Bibi

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.

P.P.S

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate 🎄

Thanks For Reading ❤️

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s here. You know it is. You look in every secret hiding place you can think of, but you can’t it anywhere. It’s Christmas Eve and you’re convinced he’s going to propose. Sungcheol had been hinting at an engagement for months. The two of you have been together for almost 4 years. It’s time. You were sure that you both were on the same page. But where’s the ring? You just want a peek.

Between the 10+ years he had spent with Jeonghan and being your boyfriend for years, Sungcheol had learned how to deal with a snoop. He knew you’d check. So he thought he would leave something for you to find.

“Where the HELL is this ring!?” After flipping the 12th pair of underwear, you were frustrated. Determined to find a ring you flip over pair 13, and apparently today it’s your lucky number. Bingo. Ring box. Excitement floods your veins. Just a tiny peak. You take a deep breath and open the box…revealing a sparkling pair of diamond earrings. They’re gorgeous and probably cost a small fortune, but you can’t help the disappointment that you feel. You’re incredibly hurt and confused but Sungcheol will be home any minute, you’ve gotta get it together.

“Hey baby” Sungcheol greets as he enters the house. The moment he sees you he knows you had found the earrings in his drawer. Part of him feels bad. He never wants to be the reason his girl is upset, but this was a lesson you needed to learn. He makes his way over to where you’re lounging on the couch and places a kiss on your forehead. “Hey” you half hardly reply. You’re trying your best to remain indifferent but your feelings are hurt. S.Coups doesn’t question your mood, he knows the cause. He plops down next to you and grabs a few goldfish from your bowl. Despite your mood, you try to relax and enjoy the rest of your evening with your boyfriend. In the back of your mind you’re still thinking about, what not finding a ring means for your relationship. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, after all these years and the long talk the two of you had about a life together on your last trip to Jeju. Will he ever?

*Christmas Morning*

You wake up on Christmas morning both thrilled and anxious. Your best friend had flown in from out of town to spend Christmas with you. You make your way down the hall, to the guest bedroom where she’s staying. You knock before waiting for her response. When she welcomes you in, you plop yourself on her bed heaving a big sigh. “What’s the matter with you” she asks as she turns to rummage through her suitcase. You stare up at the ceiling for a second before speaking, “It’s Christmas and my boyfriend hates me”. She turns and looks at you puzzled. “What are you talking about, that boy is obsessed with you” she gets up and shoves you over so she can lay beside you. You give her a sad smile, “Apparently he’s only obsessed for now. Forever with me isn’t appealing to him.” She looks over at you and resists the urge to hit you. Instead she simply says, “You don’t even believe yourself.” You don’t have the energy to fight her so you stand and ask if she’s ready for breakfast.

After breakfast, the three of you move to the living room to open gifts. This is the part you’ve been dreading. You watch with a small smile as your best friend opens her presents. The three of you has played rock paper scissors. She won, Then Sungcheol, you were last. Once she finishes S.coups pipes up. “Okay, my turn.” Sungcheol unwraps his new watch and looks at you with a big dimpled smiled. “Thank you my heart, I love it. Okay Baby, your turn.”

This is it. You can do this. You begin unwrapping the box you had stolen a glance at last night. You will your hands not to shake as you begin to pry it open. Your mouth flies open in shock at the diamond ring inside. Your eyes raise from the box in your hand to Sungcheol who has shifted from his place beside you to on his knee in front of you. “Angel, will you say yes to forever? Will you say yes to late nights with crying babies and early mornings with teething toddlers? trips around the world and nights on the couch at home? Will you say yes to the rest of our lives together? Baby I wanna build our life together from the ground up. Will you marry me?” Sungcheol doesn’t get a chance to blink before you launch yourself into his arms. “YES!” you squeal, before burying your face in his neck and crying. Right now you’re to happy to try and figure out where the this ring came from. You were sure you’d checked everywhere.

Later that night you’re staring at your newest accessory, when something occurs to you. “Coupsie, where did you have the ring at?” Sungcheol turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “Wow. You gave yourself up that quick huh?” Your eyes go wide as you realize your mistake. “I- wait…what?” He shifts his body closer to you and clears his throat. “After we had that talk in Jeju about getting married, I immediately started looking at rings. I knew that meant that you would also start snooping for a ring in the house.” He pinches your side playfully before speaking again. “So, I went and looked at rings for a month after work before I found the perfect ring. I went online and had it ordered to the store near your best friend’s house. She’s been keeping it with her this whole time.” Your eyes tear up at his confession. You feel guilty for the way you had felt prior to his proposal. “When I couldn’t find the ring. I was convinced we weren’t on the same page, and you didn’t want to marry me.” you confess. Sungcheol sighs before pulling you into his arms. “I also figured that would happen. But I needed you to be surprised. You deserve to feel special. I want to make plans for you. Just relax, let me take the lead sometimes. I’ve got you.” You look at him with a soft smile, eyes brimming with tears. Never in your life had you felt so seen. You snuggle closer to him and shut your eyes. Sending out an internal “thank you” to the universe for bringing the two of you together.

[anonyymouslyyours]

hi I have literally never done this before but I saw your post just now and thought what the heck

could you write a small thing about spencer reid where reader and him are neighbours and they both have a little crush on each other but never get to interact because spencer is literally never there

until either reader or spencer's apartment floods and it's 3am so they just go to their neighbour and there's maybe a cute confession?

(feel free to add your own pizzazz I love your writing!!!) <3333

hihihi girl! request anytime! this also ended up being a lotttt longer then intended <3

warnings: none, its fluffy its cute, like rlly cute and a bit cliche.

spencer reid. that was your neighbours name. considering he was home very little, you'd only seen him a few times and you've never even spoken a word; it seemed silly how much time you spent thinking about him.

you'll admit, your a sucker for a tall brunette with glasses, who wore ties and vests, and perhaps looked just a little nerdy. it was sweet, spencer looked very sweet.

he also happens to be your next door neighbour. like literally, you open the door of your house every day, and are confronted with the site of his own house. he's right there. you've debated sliding a note under his door, or just knocking and suggesting coffee, but you've always backed out.

the opportunity however, presents itself in a slightly annoying way. in the afternoon, you arrive home and walk into your living room to discover the entire floor flooded. one quick check of the house, and you've determined the entire place is flooded.

"jesus christ." you mutter, dialing a plumber and the flood services in your city.

when they arrive, its determined your house will be unliveable for 2 days. 2 whole days.

the plumber, matt, stares at you. "apologies, lady, but your pipes are pretty busted. its gonna cost you too."

you groan, annoyed.

"oh, uh your neighbour, you should check with them. see if they've got any issues." he adds.

you stop, spencer. your neighbour. you have a reason to go talk to him. you leave the plumber, and his little team to get to work, and cross the street to spencers house.

knock. knock.

maybe he isnt home. you look at his driveway. his car is there. the door creaks, and opens, revealing spencer reid. the man himself. in all his messy hair, rumpled shirt, afternoon glory. he pushes his glasses up, staring at you, suprised.

"hi. sorry i'm-"

"y/n." he says, quickly, and then flushes.

"right." your suprised he knows your name, though you do know his. "look uhm, sorry to bother you.. but my house kind of flooded. like everywhere. so, uhh- i was just checking if your house is all good."

his eyes widen. "your entire house? is flooded?"

you nod, grimacing. "yeah.. i mean my stuffs fine, i just have to find somewhere to stay and its a pain." you say, folding your arms and sighing.

he looks at you for a moment, thoughtful.

"uh.. besides from the fact im a total stranger.. you could um, stay with me? i mean. i have a guest room, im usually out all day. i'll cook." he says, quickly. he looks at you, expecting a no.

your suprised at his offer, intrigued even. he seems safe, your not uncomfortable.. and it would save you from having to stay in some cheap hotel.

"really? i mean- are you sure?" you confirm, raising your eyebrows at him.

he nods energetically, smiling. "i mean, it would be easier for you."

you nod, smiling back.

"well.. uh come in?" he says, shuffling to the side awkwardly.

his house is delightful, with heavy linen curtains, and tall bookshelves. the house is mostly wood, with touches of green and navy. it fits him perfectly.

"nice place you have here." you say, smiling.

"thank you." he says, staring at you for a moment. you catch him, and he looks away quickly.

"do you, uhm want a coffee? we can sit for a bit if you'd like." he says, gesturing at the couches in his living room.

you nod. "black with sugar, please."

"oh- i have mine just the same." he grins, hurrying off the the kitchen, before returning with a cup for you. he sits opposite you, studying you for a moment.

"so.. spencer, how long have you lived here?" you ask.

"5 years. which.. i think is a year longer then you?" he smiles.

"correct. uh, where do you work?"

he pauses, thinking thoughtfully. "truthfully, i work in the fbi. behavioral analysis unit." he says, staring right at you.

you shuffle in your seat, suddenly aware that this possibly means he can read your every emotion, or thought.

"thats very.. impressive, but then again you do have an intelligent look to you."

he chuckles, "well, i have been told i dress the part."

you laugh, smiling at him.

"you know.. i noticed you a while ago." he says, looking down at his coffee and swirling it.

you raise an eyebrow, curious.

"how so?"

"well, if i may be bold, your very- uhm very pretty."

your eyes widen, taken aback. you flush, letting out a soft giggle.

"you think so?" you whisper, staring at him. he finally looks up at you, nodding.

"do you say that to all the women you invite into your home?" you tease.

"i don't often invite women into my home.. in fact, you might be a first. quite special." he smiles. your cheeks feel hotter.

"well, spencer, i noticed you a while ago too. your very cute. you might be just my type." you say, staring at him.

its his turn to blush, and he looks nervous, as he turns away from you, lips parting into a smile.

"perhaps a blessing in disguise your apartment being flooded.." he whispers, the smile evident in his voice.

"i mean," you chuckle. "there has been one good outcome.."

"mmm.. silver linings and all." he says, turning to look you right in the eye. its sweet, hes very sweet. you think your very much going to enjoy your next two days here... perhaps even extend your stay.

[thegildedbee]

:: February 20 :: Selection for Week 8 of 2025 :: 🐝 "the adventure of black peter" (1904) from sherlock holmes: a year of quotes* 🖊️

Holmes was working somewhere under one of the numerous disguises and names with which he concealed his own formidable identity. He had at least five small refuges in different parts of London, in which he was able to change his personality.

O, the legendary disguises of the world's only consulting detective!!! As points of departure, they offer so much to tease out regarding cases of identity and personality! Especially because -- at least so I've heard -- no matter how hard you try, disguises are always self-portraits :-)

Although . . . I'm setting aside the disguises for now, because what I'm most curious about from the quote are the circumstances surrounding the "five small refuges": the existence of multiple pied-a-terre (feet on the ground) that Holmes has concocted throughout the city. It's not a common detective hack historically; the only one that pops into my head straight-away is the thrilling shared storage unit hideout of Benjamin Ferel's that we see in Series 2 of Lupin :-) I love the creative potential of the refuges for Holmes's sleuthing and for story-making about the crafty detective. [I think referring to these sites as "bolt-holes" is from BBC Sherlock, but I'm not well-versed enough in the original ACD lingo to know for sure.] (To digress slightly, the first quotation in the OED under "bolting-hole" is from 1851's Dialect & Folk-lore of Northamptonshire:

Bolt-hole, the hole from which the rabbit makes its escape; or, in the phraseology of the craft, ‘bolts’.

Which then makes the 19thc/21stc mash-up for the term in Sherlock a "bolting-into (?) :-)

221B may be home base for where Holmes' private life and consulting life intersect, but the criminals he pursues are spread throughout the city -- and, thus, with his refuges, so is Holmes, which I find an interesting dimension of all of this. With his contingency planning, the existence of the refuges also speaks to Holmes's being several steps ahead of his potential adversaries, an articulation of his investigative methods.

These private spots likely serve not only as dressing-rooms for disguised performances, but also as listening posts for intelligence gathering, giving a sense of Holmes as a rather dashing spy figure. They also are emblematic of Holmes's idiosyncratic Victorian presence, one that can easily cross boundaries, such as class. I think I like best picturing the refuges as places where Holmes places pieces on London's chess-board, or as extensions of the spaces in his mind palace :-) If I may be so bold, below, I've invented five secret Victorian/Edwardian hiding places for Holmes :-)

:: What better place to have a secret refuge than a grand hotel, especially one with a perpetually renewing international clientele, such as the Langham? After all, Holmes surely needed disguises that allowed him to mingle amongst the great and the good without recognition, so it could serve as an apt locale for stashing appropriate supplies. Perhaps he managed to clear up a sensitive criminal matter involving one of the guests, and subsequently the general manager (interestingly he was an American, and a former Union Army officer!), who then secured for him the use of an inconspicuous storage room in the basement for which only Holmes possessed the key. And if spending the night as a guest under an assumed name now and again was the occasional treat for closing a case, well why not? Of course, the Langham has some impressive Sherlockian bona fides. Arthur Conan Doyle often stayed there, and it's referenced in several stories (The Sign of the Four, A Scandal in Bohemia and The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax). Most importantly, it was where Doyle was invited for dinner in 1889 by J.M. Stoddart, the American publisher of Lippincott's Monthly Magazine (Oscar Wilde was also invited, and persuaded by Stoddart to write what would become The Picture of Dorian Gray). Stoddart made it worth ACD's while to write a second Holmes novel. A second outing for Holmes wasn't necessarily in the cards -- A Study in Scarlet hadn't made much of an impression, and, in any case, Doyle placed much more stock in the historical fiction he wanted to write: the second Holmes novel that appeared through the intervention of the American publisher in 1890 was The Sign of the Four; the medieval epic that Doyle rated much more highly, The White Company, in 1891. (Once ACD began publishing the Holmes adventures as stand-alone stories, rather than in the form they came in as novels for the first two times -- the sky was then the limit for Holmes and Watson, much to Doyle's ambivalence).

:: Holmes would also need a bolt-hole in a working-class area, and perhaps a public house similar to the one pictured above might have had a friendly proprietor who would have allowed him a space in the store-room amidst the barrels of ale to stash some supplies and to bunk in a corner; or perhaps he was able to secure a room in a near-by run-down location. An example given in an article on dancing in Victorian London reports: "The Morning Post describes a blind fiddler working the taproom at the Salmon and Compasses in Brooke’s Market, Holborn, a miserably poor district. Money is collected, tables dragged to one side. Then, to quote a customer, ‘when the fiddler is paid he strikes up and we jump up and dances’." Can't you just picture Holmes in disguise as a blind fiddler in this scenario, having a grand time amidst the dancing pub-goers?

:: Another possible site for a good hideaway would be the Covent Garden area, bursting as it was with activity of all kinds, and attracting people from across different walks of life -- with the market trade (manual workers, porters, and vendors) and the wealthy taking their leisure at places such as the Royal Opera House, as well as there being a variety of shops and businesses in the neighborhood.

Tucked away off of Covent Garden is Cecil Court, populated by all kinds of commercial ventures that also had flats above the shops. Bookshops were popular, which would be properly Doylean (William and Gilbert Foyles opened their first West End bookstore in Cecil Court in 1904; it joined there the oldest esoteric bookshop in London “devoted to theosophy, philosophy, spiritualism and kindred subjects” -- making Cecil Court especially Doylean! Odds on that ACD made a purchase or two there:-) Or perhaps Holmes was befriended by one of the quirky second-hand booksellers in residence, all the better for discreet hiding away.

I'd also nominate Cecil Court for its connection to science, as indicated by the picture above from 1895 of one of the inhabitants: "A Practical Demonstration of the Latest Improvements in Photography. An Evening at the Camera Club." I think Holmes would enjoy the occasional night out at a scientific society that was also a club, especially one where he could chat about chemistry and new technologies (fodder, perhaps, for one of his noteworthy monographs?) The individual seen presenting the lecture is the President, William Abney, a distinguished photographic scientist (for example, in 1880 he discovered that hydroquinone reduces exposed silver halide crystals on photographic film into visible black silver.)

[I also couldn't resist Cecil Court because it was the first London address for Wolfgang Mozart and his family, when they came in 1764 for he and his sister to play for King George III and Queen Charlotte!]

:: If I'm going to be imagining goings-on in Victorian London, then Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins' dinosaur sculptures are always going to figure in there somehow! (These were the first full-scale reproductions anywhere of the fragmentary remains of species discovered to that date.) So, hear me out: one of Holmes's hiding places is inside the belly of the largest Iguanodon! (Perhaps there are openings on the inside of one of the legs that allow one to climb up to where there's a trap door that can be pulled open :-) This is an idea inspired by the famous event in the top image, when a celebratory dinner was hosted at the completion of the models, with the guests set up to dine inside the beast on New Year's Eve in 1853. The sculptures were placed across a lake at the Crystal Palace Park, which is the site where the 1851 Great Exhibition moved to, after it closed; the dinosaurs appeared when it opened in 1854. I can even rustle up an ACD connection to partly justify my self-indulgence: the park is in south London, in Sydenham -- and when ACD moved to London in the 1890s he lived in South Norwood, which would have been about 3/4 of an hour's walk between the two locations. I like to think he went to visit!

:: My fifth candidate for a secret refuge is one that I recalled from a recent event from 2020: the discovery of a closed-up passage in the House of Commons (there was an itty-bitty keyhole in one of the wooden panels in a hallway that had gone unnoticed until just recently. When a key was fashioned and turned in the lock, a door opened and the hidden corridor appeared!) Inside are hinges for a door that would have been 11-feet high, opening into Westminster Hall -- the set-up looks to have been designed as a passage to usher in the invitees for the coronation banquet of Charles II (and dating revealed that the ceiling timbers in the passage were harvested in 1659); the passage was also used for visitors going to and fro until it was blocked up in the 19th century (and then promptly forgotten!).

So, in my mind's eye, I have an image of Holmes discovering the existence of the hidden passage in a study of old architectural documents of Parliament, and finding a snug little spot for himself in an alcove, concealed, right under the nose of Mycroft and the government without their knowledge :-)

*Levi Stahl and Stacey Shintani, eds., U of Chicago Pr, 2019

& bespoke notifications as requested :-) [thanks for reading!]: @totallysilvergirl and @winterdaphne2 and @keirgreeneyes and @calaisreno

[starry-on-ao3]

I've decided to lock all my fics after 3rd March 2025, and lock all new fics in the future

For now, this won't include the 'How long have you felt this way?' series or my WIP Close To You, because I honestly haven't made a decision on those yet. I feel terrible taking those down because of the wonderful guests who have commented and supported those works. I will lock Beyond All Reasonable Doubt.

If you are a guest user reading this, I'm happy for you to (and I would encourage you) to download any of my fics that you want to save a copy of. I'm going to try file a DMCA and see how that goes before I make a decision. But if they're already gone, then they're already gone and I see little point in locking them and I don't even know if the DMCA would be successful or not. I'm so angry and hurt.

Keep reading if you have no idea what I'm talking about:

If you don't already know, Ao3 along with several other fandom sites has been scraped for feeding generative AI. This includes written fanwork as well as fanart. If you want to know if your Ao3 work has been scraped, you can tell by checking the work ID in the URL. If the ID is below 63,200,000, and the work is not private, then I'm afraid it has been scraped.

I posted the first one on 3rd March, and the second work on 8th March - hence why I think the scrape occurred between 3rd-8th March, and I'm privating everything after the 3rd.

More information:

This post on the Ao3 subreddit has more info.

Another post on the Ao3 subreddit with more info.

I'd recommend keeping an eye on this page on PaperDemon for more up-to-date information (last update was last night, the 24th).

If you want to lock all of your fics in one go, this post explains how.

More info in this tumblr post.

I'm so sorry if you've been affected by this and if this post is how you're finding out, truly I am. ❤️

Going forward, I'm not going to put up with people around me using AI anymore. I see a lot of it in work and I've been sick of it for a long time, but this feels personal now. I don't think we can stop the use of AI, but we each can influence those around us to be more critical of these tools.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔

🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️

summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?

warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him. 

The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman. 

Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway. 

“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.

Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”

Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”

“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind. 

Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”

Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”

The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’

Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies. 

The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!” 

You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.

You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running. 

You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails. 

“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”

Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes.  “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”

Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.

You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips. 

Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”

You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face. 

Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.

You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.

You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.

You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.” 

“Leave now!” 

Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”

There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?” 

“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.

As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in. 

Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud. 

“Ari.” 

“Logan.” 

“Geralt.” 

They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”

Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”

You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?” 

Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in. 

“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.

The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.

You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.

You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long. 

A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 

“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?” 

Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle. 

“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.” 

Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from? 

“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.

You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.

“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”

“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events. 

Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person. 

“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?” 

He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it. 

“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words. 

Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.

“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.

“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body. 

“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse. 

“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe. 

You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night. 

Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place. 

The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds. 

Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that. 

His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.” 

Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on. 

Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!” 

Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there. 

…

Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?” 

Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you. 

“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous. 

You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes. 

“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is. 

You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight. 

Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast. 

You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked. 

After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you. 

That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”

You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.” 

Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave. 

You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you. 

Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?

Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you. 

“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!” 

Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. “Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting. 

“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.” 

“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.” 

Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time. 

The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar. 

Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip. 

The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you. 

“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together. 

“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you. 

You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound. 

“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were. 

“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are. 

You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two. 

Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier. 

Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you. 

Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices. 

“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt. 

Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.

The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck. 

“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly. 

“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.

“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins. 

“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it. 

You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining. 

Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston. 

Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member. 

You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.

You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin. 

The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.

The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse. 

The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.

Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown. 

They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.  

Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed. 

You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[zenkindoflove]

I've been thinking about this question a lot, and I like your thoughtful answers to fandom, so I'm gonna shoot my shot so feel free to delete this.

Do you think there's space for unity and/or peace in the ACOTAR fandom (everyone goes their own ways and just does their own thing in their sub-communities)?

I have thoughts, but I'm curious about what you're going to say!

Oh boy. This is a doozy to answer. I’m going to put my thoughts under a cut because it’s mostly going to be me rambling about how I think fandom has changed in the last ten years and also some thoughts I have about the ACOTAR fandom specifically and what I’ve observed in the last year and a half I’ve been active here.

My tldr answer is: No. I do not think there is anyway we will ever just get along and find peace.

I’ve been reflecting for a while on why that is, and I have some overall theories. The first is something I think that is true about fandoms in general these days and is completely outside of our control.

I think social media has created more toxicity in fandom, and the biggest driving factor is that social media forces us to socialize with each other by valuing individualism. In the days before all these big social media sites, in order to engage with fandom (or the internet in general) you had to seek out communal spaces on your own based around a specific interest. You were always a guest/visitor in these spaces, and there were norms set in place for how to interact and engage with people. Now, the big websites that we all interact with each other on (tumblr included) requires us to create profile pages that we curate to represent who we are. We see our blogs as the “content” we create - both as a personal diary and a way to express our individuality and “authentic selves” that we share. Now, there is some value to that, but I think what it does is it makes us exist on these different platforms with a “me” first mindset. This is MY blog and I’ll say and express whatever I WANT.

But the reality is that there are communal spaces that exist on these platforms too. Such as the tagging system on tumblr. Tags are designed to be followed and ways to project your thoughts and share them with a community. And yet we still must do that from our home territory – our blogs. The posts co-exist in both spaces. And try as we might to enforce best practices and rules of how to use these spaces, people still are aggressively ego-centric in how they want to engage because they see their profile as their territory.

I don’t think that there is any way to request people to not act that way. Of course we want to curate and have freedom of expression in our own spaces. And we try to encourage ways for people to not see things they aren’t going to like (blocking, filtering tags, etc). But ultimately, to form community on these sites, we have to essentially follow people instead of only interacting with them in these communal spaces – which opens us up to basically witnessing every thought they have.

I think that is wherein lies the problem. We see things we don’t want to see, opinions or takes that irritate us, from people we otherwise enjoy. And this is fandom. We feel strongly about the subject matter no matter how you slice it. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here. I just don’t think we were meant to know all of this about each other. No matter what, you’re going to see something that pisses you off, and then cue the antics where people try to feel righteous or justify their irritation by stirring up shit. And on and on it goes.

I say this as someone who very much as participated in and perpetuated this cycle. I include myself in the offenders because after all – I am ultimately a stubborn, passionate human who wants to gossip and fight if I see something unjust. I am not immune, and I have observed this exact mindset in how I see my own behaviors.

Now – for the ACOTAR fandom specifically – I think we are basically this problem on steroids. I think partly it’s because of the nature of the fanbase. For so many people in this fandom – this is their FIRST fandom. While that is a beautiful thing, it also means a lot of people come into this space not understanding the norms of fandoms in general that have tried to address avoiding toxicity in the past. I also think that, frankly, a lot of people coming here from the bookish space are bringing in very weird ideas about censorship and shipping beliefs that essentially makes us have the same exact conversation over and over again – all because they still need to go through fandom university to unlearn a lot of the bullshit other places on the internet have ingrained in them.

I also think that the nature of this series – serial romances with a large cast of characters – it makes our fandom more fragmented then I have seen in other fandoms. We don’t just have one or two big shipper groups – we have multiples and they all have distinct flavors and personalities of how they interact with other groups and each other. This goes beyond just the toxicity of the ship war. A lot of toxicity exists within shipping groups or between shippers/stans for characters you would otherwise think wouldn’t have an issue with each other, and I think that is in large part because there are several competing interests and a lot of value placed on popularity. We see followers and post stats as currency (as is true for how social media works in general), and we use that in how we judge each other and whose voices matter.

I guess to not be totally doom and gloom, I do think there are ways to mitigate the toxicity. And that is finding a smaller group of like-minded people and forming a group chat or discord server with them. It won’t stop it completely. I think the most important element of this is finding people who you share the same interests - not just the same frustrations. You’ll still gossip and blow off steam and talk about what the new drama and bullshit that is going on in either your side or another side of the fandom. That's normal. But having time to really talk about the things you like and be positive is much more fruitful than only relating to each other because of what you all dislike. Search for people who are also looking to get the same out of fandom as you are, such as earnest connections rather than “reach” or “engagement”. Make friends because you share interests and how you think about the characters you love instead of who you think will make you more popular.

TBF, I have never been in a fandom that has known true peace, but I do think there is something unique with the ACOTAR fandom and how it really insists on playing all the top hits of worse fandom behavior on a loop. For me – I think taking a step back recently from how I’m participating in this fandom and the role I have within it has changed where I’m putting my energy. I do not see myself being here for a long time, but I do want to have a good time. I've been in enough fandoms to know my "Best by" date, and while I'm here, I'm trying my best to make the most of it.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Almost definitely a 100% speculative question. Does archeology exist on Gallifrey or is it widely mocked and frowned upon? Like surely they can’t interfere or risk visiting their own deep past before recorded history, so wouldn’t there still need to be Gallifreyan Archeological Studies?

Does archaeology exist on Gallifrey?

Gallifrey has a long and complicated past, and a lot of it took place in the Dark Times. However, Rassilon time-locked the Dark Times, meaning even Time Lords can't just pop back and check on their ancestors (unless you get there accidentally, which seems to happen to the Doctor a lot).

Since not even Time Lords can observe everything first-hand, some form of archaeology must exist—if only to fill in the gaps where time travel isn't an option.

Gallifreyan Archaeological Studies likely focus on:

🕰️ Pre-Time Lord Gallifrey – The Pythian Era, the rise of early city-states, and the pre-rational age.

🏛️ Ancient ruins and lost civilisations on Gallifrey – Modern Gallifrey is littered with ruins, some of which may date back to Shobogan times.

🌍 Offworld colonial assets – Before Rassilon, Gallifrey was an empire under the Pythias' rule. Many worlds in Kasterborous likely bear traces of their influence.

📜 The Case Against Taking It Seriously

Here's the problem: modern Gallifreyans are time travellers.

🔎 Why dig when you can observe? – If something happened after the Dark Times, a Time Lord can just pull up the records or witness it first-hand.

⏳ Why care about the past when you control time? – Time Lords see history as something they curate, not something to be uncovered.

📖 Why would the records lie? – The archives clearly state that Rassilon heroically overthrew the evil Pythia in the Intuitive Revolution, subsequently bringing rationality to an irrational universe. You can't question that because someone wrote it down in a big book.

💼 Gallifreyan culture values theory over fieldwork. – Sitting in a grand chamber debating the meaning of an artefact is respectable. Getting your posh robes dirty at a dig site is embarrassing.

😂 It's culturally mocked. – Even the Doctor openly mocks archaeology, suggesting a culturally ingrained attitude. Gallifreyans see archaeology as a joke—something lesser civilisations do because they can't time travel.

So while Gallifreyan archaeologists probably exist, they're likely regarded as a niche academic curiosity at best and a waste of time at worst.

🏫 So ...

I'm not saying it makes sense, but yes, archaeology probably exists, and no, it's not taken seriously. Yes, there's a legitimate call for it, but no, no one's interested.

Related:

💬|📱🕸️What does the Web of Time look like?: Overview on the Web of Time and its relevance.

💬|🏺🧙What do Shobogans look like, and how are they different from modern Gallifreyans?: Various biological difference between Gallifreyans and their ancestors.

📺|🏺✨Regeneration: The Origins

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[the-doe-eyed-girl]

Can an experienced fanfic writer give me some advice?

I’m normally not this vulnerable on the internet but I just want some advice on something that happened to me.

So for context, I used to love writing. In middle school and my early years of high school I wrote my own cheesy stories, fan fictions and I even got a chance to write short stories for school assignments. I decided to get back into writing for my New Year’s resolution. I didn’t have a lot of time to write for fun this spring but now I’m home for the summer and decided to go for it.

I haven’t publicly posted a lot of my writing (I used to post short, original stories) but figured, “What’s the harm in putting myself out there?” So I started writing a fanfic about one of the shows I loved as a kid.

I chose the site Archive of our Own/AO3 (I heard it was a good, trustworthy site. I still think so) and saw that it had a feature to leave notes from the author. I decided to put at the top of each chapter that I welcomed any and all critiques. I figured just because writing is my hobby didn’t mean I couldn’t improve.

Over the course of three or so days, I uploaded the first four chapters of my fanfic. AO3 sent me an email notification that I had my first comment. I opened it to find a guest account criticizing me. Not as a writer, but as a person.

The comment said that I was begging for attention, only cared about getting comments and that my work wasn’t what the world needed. I was hurt but figured that this person didn’t know me personally and I shouldn’t let it get to me. I deleted the comment and tried to get on with my day.

Later in the same day, I get an email about another comment. Different guest account criticizing me, saying that I’m begging for attention, that I craved external validation and I was in the wrong hobby if that was the case. Again, I deleted the comment, thinking that I was doing the right thing.

That night, as I’m working on the fifth chapter, I get another email about another comment. It’s a third guest account. This one was kind of different. Basically the account said that they weren’t trying to be mean, just honest. They said how they had seen me upload several chapters over just a few days with little to no engagement (at this time, I saw about 40 people had at least checked out my fic). They said basically how I shouldn’t strain myself and suggested that I should write privately or just quit altogether. They went on to say that they had seen my fic be buried under better written stories with more comments and kudos and I should take the lack of engagement as a hint.

I had literally only had my account for like, three days at this point. Given how similarly all three guest comments were worded, I realized there were two possibilities.

1) These were three different people who all happened to share similar opinions.

2) There was one person behind all the accounts who kept commenting critiques of me as a person without even knowing me.

It’s hard to describe how I felt when I considered possibility two. I guess I felt unsafe, almost (?). I get that the person(s) behind the accounts didn’t have my actual email or anything but I digress.

I figured that if a person(s) was going to go out of their way to say something about me as a person that was critical of me as a person over a fan fiction, it wasn’t worth it to keep my AO3 account.

I deleted my AO3 account, which meant I was also deleting the story.

I guess I’m posting about what happened to me to ask if I made a smart choice. I know that people criticizing others on the internet isn’t anything new but I’m worried that I somehow missed something.

Did I miss an unspoken rule of the fanfic community by asking for critiques on my story or deleting the comments?

I’m genuinely asking because I love to write and I am concerned I didn’t do enough to prepare myself by putting my work out there publicly.

Thank you.

[enaelyork]

My unwanted husband [A Robotnik x Reader long fic] - Chapter 2

my bans come from @saradika

⚡Check my ultimate masterlist here ⚡

⚡Recap post here⚡

Tag list : @kosem-sultan167

Chapter Prompt :

It's cruise time for Y/N and the doctor! But will they manage to put their differences aside? Especially since they will have to prove to the world that they are credible as a married couple...

Tw: None for this chapter

Please take care and read what you want <3

She had just packed her last suitcase with obvious annoyance. Obviously, how could she have been trapped like this at her own game? She tried to remember everything that had brought her to that disastrous evening, searching for the moment when the situation had escaped her notice.

Was it before or after taking the first sip? With her butt on the suitcase, she finally managed to pack it, convinced that she had forgotten something (an anti-depressant? A powerful sedative? All of that at once?). Walter had refused to let her take a weapon or sharp object with her for fear that it would end up in the doctor's jugular and he was right. He doesn't pay anything to wait, you...

A clearing of her throat startled her so much that she tumbled out of the suitcase before looking up at her surprise guest.

- YOU !

- I imagine you are impatient?

Was he really mad at her? How dare he? Should she remind him that all of this was his boss's fault...And his?

- How dare you! You did nothing to prevent this and you put all the blame on me?

- It was your stupid idea!

-And you were there for things to go wrong.

But Agent Stone's gaze did not soften, on the contrary. He carried a bundle of anger about her that displeased her and that she fully intended to tickle.

- Oh, but yes. I understand ! You didn't have the guts to contradict your beloved boss, and now you're depressed at the thought of going without your daily spanking for two weeks!

- How…Dare you!!

She could guess the crimson that colored his cheeks. She was right. This devotion Stone felt for Robotnik was beyond her. She could not understand how this guy agreed to be humiliated in this way and to endure this individual while she was close to apoplexy after five minutes spent in his company…Sober obviously, because once she was drunk things had probably been different.

- You're scared, aren't you? Afraid that something will happen to your dear little tormentor boss? She advanced towards Agent Stone, a decidedly languorous step like a snake writhing towards its prey.

- You're afraid that he will be...Different when he returns, perhaps? - This has absolutely nothing to do with it.

- I think so! Her eyes plunged into those of the agent, she continued to scrutinize the slightest of his reactions. Then a smile split her lips before she delivered her murderous conclusion.

- Don't worry. I promise he will come back in one piece. Then, moving away from him, she took possession of these two immense trunks before heading towards the exit. - Now, I don't know yet if he will be between four boards or not. She burst out laughing, proud of her conclusion and slammed the door back on a visibly shocked Agent Stone.

------

No words had been spoken since they were in the car. This suited Y/N well, deep down she hoped that this cruise would take place the same way: in silence. However, she couldn't help but take a look at Robotnik, he had sold off his eternal laboratory outfit for a rather... Surprising outfit. Finally, she would never have imagined the doctor otherwise than with this kind of black tunic, but she had to admit that the cream-colored pants and this dark short-sleeved shirt suited him...rather...well.

- Do you want my photo, L/N?

- I was just wondering if you had thought about your Bermuda shorts. - Shut up. -

Or a swimsuit, perhaps? I can totally imagine you wearing these kinds of tight-fitting briefs that you find on low-cost sites.

- Stop the car or I'll kill her.

The driver barely dared to look at them, shaking his head gently.

- I'm sorry, Doctor, but I have orders to take you to the boat.

And couldn't it be possible to take her on another boat?

- Not when it comes to a honeymoon.

Honestly, what trouble had he gotten himself into? How could he, the genius with an astronomical IQ, have been bamboozled by this kind of weirdo? He should have guessed that this drink was a trap, but it was also damn delicious, and sweet and... No more procrastinating!

He thought, looking at the ring around his finger. He longed to be able to remove it and had already imagined a dozen ways to reduce it to nothing. The immense liner stood before them when the car stopped in front of an immense line of individuals, each more brainless than the last, lining up to board each in turn. This vision only accentuated the nauseating feeling that had never left Robotnik since that terrible evening.

- Commander Walter has asked me to tell you that he is counting on you for the good of this mission.

- Oh, gosh… Y/N spat in a barely hidden sarcastic tone.

- And that he sincerely hopes that you will be able to put your differences aside for the good of the G.U.N.

- If she exaggerates, I will make her my next experiment !

Robotnik didn't wait until he got out of the car, not paying attention to the obscene gesture made by Y/N. Did he want to play? The lesson wasn't enough for him? Very good, she was a patient and downright Machiavellian woman, he was going to die.

- Kisses to Walter, and above all remind him that I want a raise for having to put up with this poor guy!

---

She hurried to join him when he had already taken his place in the queue. His mustache fell severely over his mouth and he had put on his thin pair of sunglasses to hide his evil look. Until now, he hadn't even laid eyes on her and that suited her, it was bad enough being in a summer dress and sandals in the company of this dirty guy. But Y/N knew: this was an undercover mission and they had a role to play in making their cover credible and it was clear that right now they looked more like sworn enemies than a newly married couple. And if the mission failed, she knew the consequences... Without warning, as the line moved forward and their turn approached, she slipped behind the doctor to get to his height and did what she probably never thought she would do in her life, in her normal state at least.

- W.. ? What are you doing ? he exclaimed, almost choking.

- Do you remember? The mission? Well we have to be credible, hold my damn hand.

- Absolutly no way !

She refused to give him a choice. Slowly, her fingers slipped between his as the red rose to the doctor's cheeks. Robotnik then realized that his brain was not the only organ capable of being irrigated by his blood and took a deep breath before it became bothersome. Damn, what was happening to him? Was he derailing?

It was lack of training, no doubt! There is no point going back to the sentimental desert of his life. He barely remembered the last time he had come into contact with another biped other than his calamitous humanoid prototypes that the G.U.N had wanted them to shape (the latter are now poor housekeepers in the corridors). Well, if we also excluded the amount of humiliation he inflicted on Stone when he failed to comply with his demands. Moreover, he realized that the latter could have been of great help to him today in keeping this crazy woman away.

- Release of my hand.

- Believe me, I hate it as much as you do. But we're married, you'll have to get used to it.

- Temporarily married. He hastened to add, trying to get all of his blood flow back to his skull. He was so obsessed with the total panic that was ravaging his body that he hadn't noticed the strange goosebumps that dotted his colleague's skin.

- Absolutely. And if you want to get this over with quickly, I advise you to make an effort and appear credible, is that clear?

She felt her fingers shrivel together, a sharp pain shooting through her entire forearm. Robotnik held her hand so tightly that she thought he was going to crush every bone in her.

- Am I credible enough for you, L/N? Without answering, she holds his gaze, determined not to give him the slightest bit of ground in this unhealthy little game.

- Believe me, the person who should really give me orders has not yet been born. Spoiler: it's not you. So don't you dare start again, is that clear?

- Are you sure?

He then felt Y/N's thumb slowly tickle his palm in the skin of space he had left. This delicate contact sent violent shocks through his entire being, definitively preventing him from regaining control. He was going to throw her over the damn liner as soon as he got the chance.

- Good morning ! Exclaimed the hostess with a jovial smile while holding her notebook on her immaculate blouse. Welcome to Baywatch Cruise! Can I have your names?

Before he even had time to open his mouth to shout his response, Y/N had jumped in front of him, firmly grabbing his arm while pressing herself outrageously against him. It was obvious that at this rate he would die of a heart attack before the day was over.

- Good morning ! She exclaimed in an equally sickly happy tone! We are Mr. and Mrs. Robotnik.

This name almost made him choke. Robotnik coughed so violently that he thought he would never be able to catch his breath under Y/N's laughter.

- You shouldn't blame my husband! He suffers from very severe allergies to pollution. That’s why we chose a cruise for our honeymoon! Right, Honey?

He was going to make her eat her tongue as soon as they were alone, and there was no double meaning there. He would cut this viper's tongue into pieces and force her to eat each part one by one.

Y/N could well be jubilant at the flash of panic she read in his eyes, she didn't pay anything to wait.

- Oh, congratulations! Wedding is wonderful! I too dream of finding my prince charming! You are so lucky.

- Believe me, he's the one who has it, right Ivo-darling? Am I not a wonderful wife?

Robotnik pretended not to have heard, shaking his head to stop himself from strangling him in public. The employee – whose name was Clara according to the sign on her chest – absentmindedly looked for their names in her register before exclaiming enthusiastically.

- Yes ! Here you are! What a superb choice is the Sirena suite! They are located at the very top with a breathtaking view of the outside! Your honeymoon promises to be very romantic!

The doctor's blood ran cold almost immediately. Did she really speak straight away? Just one room? Of course, it was obvious. How could he have been so stupid. They were married, married! Damn… How could he have believed they could have two separate bedrooms?

It was beyond his strength.