#and so many more i could go on all day the woman is a poet

[imaniwriting]

pregnancy with rafe?? maybe a bit of angst thrown in there??

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 (requests are open)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, Rafe not wanting to be involved at first, insecurity, unwanted pregnancy

Summary: when rafe finds out that you’re pregnant he doesn’t want to be involved in the child’s life feeling like he wouldn’t be a good father.

Genre: Angst with fluff at the end

This wasn’t supposed to happen. How could this be happening? You currently were pacing around in the middle of your room. So many dreams you had went crushing down. You ran your fingers through your hair but the knots in it were stopping you to do it smoothly.

“Fuck,” you gasped out loud not realizing that you were holding your breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” you sat down on your carpet leaning against your bed. You and Rafe had been doing so good, your relationship was great, sex was great (obviously) even the handle with substances Rafe had fixed and now he would obviously want nothing to do with you.

There suddenly was a light Knock on your door making you immediately jump up. You totally forgot that you had texted Rafe to come over the confidence you had earlier with telling him was vanishing with every thought that ran through you head.

“Y/n?” You heard Rafe ask there was a lace of worry in his voice you looked back at the text you sent him only now realizing how that sounded.

“We need to talk. Now.” It read. You shut your eyes and slowly opened your bedroom door. “Hi,” you breathed out smiling at him brushing out the hair that was in front of your face. “Hi, baby what’s wrong what do you need to talk about?” He asked in a sweet voice walking into your room which was not organized like it had always been.

“Uhm,” you started looking down at your feet not ready to tell him. Rafe looked around the room before his eyes landed on you again he walked over to you cupping your cheeks gently forcing you to look up. “What is it baby?” He smiled reassuringly making your breathing slow a bit.

“Impregnant” you mumbled looking into his blue eyes “what?” He laughed “I didn’t catch that baby” he said you internally groaned he was in a really good mood. “I’m pregnant” you said.

These two words made Rafe’s whole body weak, his face fell and the hands that were once warm turned cold and were removed from you cheeks. “What?” He whispered hoping he didn’t hear right. You nodded tears threatening to spill. “I’m sorry” was all you could muster up from the pain in your throat.

Rafe shook his head running his hands through his hair. “How did this happen? I had a fucking condom every time we fucked.” He said slowly anger building up. You didn’t say anything you eyes back onto your feet.

“Fuck I can’t do this.” He breathed out making you snap your head up at him. Was he seriously dipping? “You know i can’t do this y/n” he said his eyes finally meeting yours. It was true, you knew what he was thinking; the abused becomes the abuser.

“I can’t do this, I can’t be a father y/n” he said and that was the last thing he told you before he stormed out of the room leaving you to break down and hate every part of yourself. You can’t live without him. He was your anchor you were his.

_____

It had been two days since you last talked you had been slumping in your bed cuddling with your pillow which had his sweat shirt on. Crying sleeping and watching rom coms which made you cry more was your daily routine. You hadn’t eaten a real meal in these two days.

Currently you were watching little women bailing your eyes out every time Laurie came on the screen just because. “Well im not a poet im just a woman” you mouthed alongside the actor. It had been the third time you watched this movie in just 2 days.

Suddenly a knock could be heard at the door. Making you shoot up from your bed. You explicitly told your family that you were going through something so they could leave you alone. “Leave!” You yelled before the person could even enter.

You grabbed your laptop and went under your blanket. The door then opened and you could hear steps. “I said leave!” You yelled from under your blanket. “I’m sorry I can’t, i need to talk to you” you heard and your breathing stopped for a moment. It was Rafe. You shot up from under your blanket not caring that you had smeared mascara all over your face or that your hair was held up in a messy bun.

“What?” You breathed out refreshed at seeing him again. “I’m sorry for storming out.” He said making you nod he took place beside you moving the pillow with his t shirt. “I’m also sorry for the things i said but they are true.” He said making you sit up beside him. “I can’t be a father y/n you know that.” He continued making you frown.

“Rafe for all my life i loved you and you got so much better than you were at the start. I mean god, you would be the greatest father because you know exactly what you shouldn’t do with a child.” You said tears were forming in both of your eyes. “Please Rafe” you started. “Please do this with me. Because I know damn well I can’t do this alone.”

He nodded slowly before you grabbed his face. “Look at me.” You started again. Rafe slowly looked into your eyes “you will never be your father, i wont let you.” He nodded and smiled it didn’t take long for you to completely throw yourself at him engulfing him in a kiss. Then slowly tears started flowing.

“God, fuck you Rafe, i hate you.” You said pushing him away from you. “Baby? Why are you crying?” He laughed “i don’t know.” You said crying more. “Come on baby let’s get you cleaned.” He said grabbing your hand and picking you up bridal style.

#fluff #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #outer banks #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #rafe angst #angst #light angst #angst with a happy ending #pregnancy #pregnant

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit -- drabble 3

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara meets more of your family and learns another secret

warnings: none

word count: 700+

previous part | next part

Cordelia had been put to bed hours ago. You had been given the task by your parents, with the claim that you could get her to fall asleep the fastest, and Tara had watched as you rocked your sister gently in your arms, whispering sweet words to her until her babbles and giggles faded into a peaceful silence.

Maybe, Tara had thought while she stood in the doorway, committing the sight to memory, a baby wouldn’t be so bad right now.

Though the reason for the party was sleeping in her crib upstairs, there were still plenty of people crowded in your ballroom, though you had told Tara that they were all close friends or extended family by that point.

You had been whisked away by a cousin, which left Tara vulnerable to whomever decided to strike up a conversation. And, just as she watched Nate and Eddie begin to march toward her, her line of vision was blocked by your grandparents, who had finally emerged from the wine cellar.

“Hello, deary,” your grandmother said, smiling. “You must be our Y/N’s dear girlfriend.”

Your grandfather stood by his wife’s side silently, and Tara remembered you telling her that he was not too fond of people. She offered him a smile but kept her attention on your grandmother.

“Yes, hi! I’m Tara.” She stuck her hand out, slightly thankful that your grandma decided to shake it rather than pull her into a hug. As nice as they are, I think I’ve had enough hugs for one day.

“It’s lovely to meet you, sweetheart. Y/N has spoken so much about you.” Your grandmother winked. Tara felt herself blush up to her ears.

“She talks about you guys a lot, too! She holds both of you in very high esteem.”

Your grandmother chuckled, and Tara’s ears perked up, realizing that she was who you had gotten your laugh from. “I’m sure she speaks of her grandfather plenty.” She patted her husband on the forearm. “He is, after all, the writer of the two of us, and we all know how much Y/N loves literature.”

Tara turned to your grandfather. “Right, of course. She’s mentioned that you’re a poet.”

Your grandfather’s eyes seemed to light up at the mention of his work. “Talks about her old man, does she? Yes, yes. In my day, I could write poem upon poem.” He looked at your grandmother. “Most of them were for Jane, of course.”

Tara smiled as your grandmother scoffed lightly. This will be us one day, she thought. I just know it. “I’ve read a few of them,” Tara said, and your grandfather grinned. “They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He stood a little taller and puffed his chest out a bit. “Makes an old man like me feel good, hearing a youngster like you say that.”

“Well, I’m just being honest--” Tara was interrupted by your appearance at her side. You took her hand in yours, beaming at your grandparents.

“Hope these two oldies aren’t boring you, Tar,” you giggled, and your grandmother reached out, swatting you on the shoulder.

“Go on, child,” your grandma said, her tone light. “Go play us a song. Make yourself useful while we speak to your dear girl.”

Play us a song? Tara wondered, her eyebrows furrowing.

You hummed and nodded. “Any requests, my lovely grandmother?”

“Play that one song she likes,” your grandpa answered. “You know…that one song.”

“Ah, yes. ‘That one song’,” you teased. You pulled away from Tara. “Just a moment.” She watched as you crossed the room, settling down on the bench in front of the grand piano that stood in the corner of the room.

Her eyes widened. No way. How many things is this woman hiding from me?

A somber melody filled the room, and all conversations quieted, everyone turning to watch you as you played, your fingers dancing along the keys of the piano like they belonged there.

Tara gulped, her heart beginning to race, a shiver running along her back. Jesus, I’m so in love with her, she thought.

The song began to pick up a bit, and her eyes glanced around the room, seeing your parents sway together and Nate and Eddie sitting still for once, entranced by the tune.

Your eyes closed, your fingers playing faster. You became one with the music, one with the piano, and Tara tried to bite back the smile that pulled at her lips. You looked at home there, on that bench--almost as much as you did when you were explaining literature.

“Oh, I know that look,” your grandfather whispered, and Tara glanced at him. He grinned, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. “Welcome to the family, dear girl.” Softly, he patted her on the back. “Welcome to the family.”

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna x reader #museum tara #scream 5 #scream 6

[makethatelevenrings]

Day 12: Phone Sex w/ Roy Kent

Kinktober Masterlist

“Hi.”

You huffed out a laugh at the placid greeting and settled back against the pillows propped up against the headboard. The soft cotton of Roy’s old sweatshirt brushed against your skin and you relished in the enveloping scent of him.

“Hi big guy. Good game out there.”

“Fucking cold,” he grunted. “Pretty sure my dick had reverted and is fucking my lungs.”

A startled laugh escaped you and you shook your head. Such a poet.

“Well, you looked good. Wish I was there to warm you up.”

He sighed. “Fucking wish you were here too, love. This bed is too empty.”

“Only two more nights. We’ve survived longer than that.”

“I know. I’m still going to bitch about it.”

“I would be concerned if you didn’t.”

Silence met you, but you weren’t worried. It was common for the two of you to fall asleep with the phone line still open. After sleeping next to one another for so many years, even the presence of Roy over the crackly phone line settled something in your chest.

“What are you wearing?” His gruff voice had a hint of teasing to it and you chuckled, fingering the hem of his sweatshirt.

“Your old Sunderland crew,” you answered honestly. “And no pants.”

He groaned, low and deep and pleased. “Bet you look like a right fucking treat.”

“I look like a mess. I’ve been cleaning the house all afternoon.”

“What I’d give to be home right now. I’d bend you over the island and fuck you right there.”

Heat rushed through your veins at the thought and you hummed. “Yeah? The idea of me wearing your clothes gets you that hard?”

He chuckled. “Love, the idea of you wearing my clothes makes me want to hop onto the next flight.”

You parted your legs and slid your hand down your stomach, over the soft hair on your navel, and down, down, down to slide across the growing wet patch on your underwear. You whimpered at the light brush and Roy let out an appeasing grunt.

“Touching yourself, aren’t you? That’s it, sweet girl. You deserve this. Working so hard when I’m not home. Wish I was there to take care of you.”

“Roy…” You started to rub slow circles over your clit, your lips parting in a broken moan. “God, Roy. I wish you were here.”

His voice was further from the phone now and you suspected he had put you on speaker. The sound of a bottle opening met your ears and your breathing hitched as you realized what he was doing. What you would give to see him right now. A sheen of sweat clinging to his tanned skin, muscles flexing as he reached down to grasp his hard cock, and perfect hands stroking himself… the idea made your clit throb.

“I’d throw it all away if it meant staying at home with you forever,” he murmured. Roy inhaled deeply and you could hear the slick sound of his lube covered hand sliding along his shaft. “I’d give it all up if it meant seeing you everyday.”

“Come home, baby. I’ll meet you at the door and wear your old jersey. You’d like that, you possessive caveman. Your name, your ring, your cum on me.”

He groaned and you could hear his speed pick up. “Yeah. Fuck yeah. I’d cum all over those pretty little tits of yours. Lick it off of you and then fill up your pretty little cunt.”

You increased your pressure and whined. “Fill me up, Roy. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Such a dirty mouth on you. If you mouthed off, I’d have to gag you on my cock.”

“Yeah? You’d choke me on your big dick?”

His breathing hitched and he let out that rough whine you loved so much. You loved having this power over him. Roy gasped out a heaving breath and then finally spoke once more.

“I’d take you to our room and fuck you into the mattress until the only word you could say was my name.” You whimpered as the knot of pleasure in your gut started to tighten. “And then I’d draw you a bath and take care of you. Because you’re the love of my life, darling, and I find myself so lucky and grateful to be able to come home to a woman like you.”

Fuck. You should not be tearing up at the same time as your orgasm charged through you. A whiny exhale left you as pleasure washed over your muscles until the contractions stopped and you were able to relax against the mattress.

“I love you, Mr. Kent,” you whispered into the phone.

“I love you too, Mrs. Kent.”

“Two days.”

“Fuck that. I’m throwing the game and coming home to you right now.”

You barked out a laugh and shook your head. “No the fuck you are not. I’ve got money on you fuckers.”

#roy kent x reader #roy kent smut #roy kent imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[blingblong55]

Healing -Vladimir Makarov

A/N: this is not me telling you how reader looks^

Based on a request:

i love love LOVE the great war. i’m foaming at the mouth for a part 2 BUT can you maybe do something with vlad and his love taking a bath while he reads her poetry or something along the lines. again love your work you truly are amazing 🌷

---- F!Reader, fluff/romance, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, poetry read, pregnant!reader ----

It's been a long day, Vladimir and you haven't seen each other since you left bed. And now, as you walk inside your home, he greets you with a warm meal. "Ah, the girl I have been waiting for." He walks to you, wrapping you in his hold. "What's all this about?" you ask curiously. His hand on your belly, "I think my sweet wife deserves a treat, after all, you did some hard work today." He teases. "Shopping is a sport," you kiss his cheek and he guides you to the warm kitchen. For months since he found out he would become a father, he gave you a credit card, 'spend it on you and our little one.' he said and every day, he sends you out with at least two of his men to buy at least ten things.

He wanted this all to be a thank you, for turning his life around and giving him a new purpose and as you both eat a meal he so carefully cooked with love, he finds himself admiring you. You look up, insecure for some reason until he smiles. "Did you know you are the kind of woman men write poems about?" He continues eating and you feel yourself blushing and a rush of happiness. One thing about your husband is that he knows what to say and how to make you feel, especially, now that you carry your first child.

You look at him, "What have you so….happy today?" He shrugs, "I have many reasons to be happy. I have you, my lovely wife, today all went well, we have a son arriving in a few months and did I mention I have a lovely, beautiful, small and incredibly amazing wife?" You smile and look away. "I mean it, love. I seriously thank you for being part of my life so please just accept all my love because trust me, pretty girl, no one else can get this."

After that much-needed meal, he offers a bath. And as he warms the water for you both, he watches mesmerised as you undress in front of him. Your beautiful body is all for his gaze to admire. For some reason, Vladimir couldn't help but feel a gush of emotions, all good ones of course. The way the room lit up, showcasing all your beautiful features and there was him, watching a goddess undress. It was like a schoolboy, the feeling he had, blushing and looking away from how excited you made him. To others, it's nothing to see your beloved undress anymore but to him, this was a privilege.

They always portray men like him as heartless men with no soul behind their evil loving gaze but if you look closely, there it is, the warm fire that still shines through. "Get in the tub, my love," his voice was always so soft with you. It was comedic how it changed when he spoke to those who aren't you. He was always so cold to others but when he turned to you, gave you one glance or one word, his voice was pure and soft. His hand holding yours as you get in. Hold it until you sit down in the tub. The second he let go, as he walked to the counter of the bathroom, his hand flexed. He was anxious in many ways and for good reason since you had changed the man he was before.

In his hands was the old book of poems he collected of his favourite poets or wrote himself. The book was old, but the words inside were worth more than anything in the world. As he sat down, he could feel the warmth of your back to his chest. You laid against him, finding comfort in his embrace and in some romantic way, this was professing love with unspoken words. His free hand playing with your hair as he holds the book of poems. "Let's see my love, what poem shall I read you today?"

You point towards one. "First Love by John Clare," the title wrote. "Very well, my love." he kisses your head and begins. "I ne’er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet, Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale as deadly pale, My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked, what could I ail? My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away, The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start— They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice? Is love’s bed always snow? She seemed to hear my silent voice, Not love's appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling-place And can return no more."

His voice throughout the poem so steady, and clean and expresses the same emotion the poem itself meant to convey. He places the book on the small shelf by the tub, his arms wrapping you in a loving embrace. "Did you like it?" Vladimir's head resting on your shoulder as his hands caress your belly. "Mhm…I loved this one." your voice was soft as you began to relax with him. "Good, my love," he whispers before kissing your shoulder, one of his hands so delicately lifting your hair as the other writes on your back.

"I- L-O-V-E- Y-O-U" his fingertips spell out. You try and figure out what the message was but before you begin to think, you feel his soft and warm lips kiss the back of your neck. To him, this was the most beautiful thing lovers could do that also meant intimacy. Sitting in a tub, looking out a window that brings light to the bathroom, reading poetry and then doing something like this, kissing your neck with nothing but love, rubbing the same belly that carries his child. And then you got it, "I love you too, Vlad," you lean back, your head turning and your lips meeting his.

It was as if no other worry could bother either of you. Being here, that is what counts and in the darkest corner of his heart, he feels all those old wounds and worries heal. This is real, this moment in time, that is what feels so unreal to those who can't have this privilege but to both of you, this is real, it's love to its simplicity.

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @liyanahelena @selarus @kielsegur @mseccentricks @johfaam0 @moonsua1 @rvivienner @frazie99 @viomast @vampsquerade @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare

#cod x reader #cod #mw3 2023 #mw3 x reader #cod mwiii #call of duty mw3 #cod mw3 #modern warfare iii #modern warfare 3 #cod makarov #vladimir makarov fluff #vladimir makarov x reader #vladimir makarov cod #vladimir makarov x you #mw2023 #vladimir makarov smut #makarov x reader #makarov cod #makarov call of duty #makarov x you #vladimir makarov #makarov x f!reader #makarov fluff

[mrchiipchrome]

prompt 85 with steph catley if that’s ok

People, if you are going to copy me (i'm not saying that you should at all, but if it's so life threateningly important to do it) please for the love of all that is good, have the fucking decency to at least make it subtle. Don't just copy and paste my writing and switch it up a smidge to sell it as your own, have some fucking respect for your fellow writers.

prompt 85. -Give me your kisses and I’ll give you my heart.

If you want to request, there's a promt list linked in my masterlist.

------------------------

‘Give me your kisses and I’ll give you my heart’ that was something you said to your wife almost everyday. She’d never been able to explain it, the way you would make her feel with a simple sentence.

You had been saying it since you started dating the Australian, the woman would always just blush and tell you that she’d give you however many kisses you wanted. The football player has had your heart under lock and key since the first ever time you’d met her, since the first time you’d looked into her dark and rich brown eyes. 

Steph had always just figured that you were quoting some old movie or a poet, she had never actually thought there was more to it.

That was until you were questioned by your teammates, the lot of them always having heard you quote it to your wife.

Your conversation with Katie was interrupted when a tray of food was set down in front of you, having asked your wife to fetch you some lunch so that you could continue your conversation with the Irish player.

Leaning up, you place a sweet kiss to the brunette’s lips, cupping her face as well as you could with you sitting down and her standing up.

When you pull away and the woman sits down next to you, you finally say what you were waiting for.

“Oh my sweetest, just give me your kisses and I’ll give you my heart.” The cheeky smile bestowed upon your face puts one on your love’s too. When she looks into your eyes, you cannot help but get lost in endless pools of chocolate brown.

The clearing of a throat across from you has you looking away, the moment between you and your wife having been broken by an impatient Irish.

“So, Y/n why do you always say that thing after you kiss Stephy?” Her heavy Irish accent cuts through the air in an uncomfortably loud way and suddenly all the eyes in the room are on you, just waiting to hear your response.

Clearing your own throat, you simply choose to act stupid. 

“What thing? I don’t say anything” Your eyes flit around the faces of the room and you could see just how in disbelief they were at your poor attempt at acting dumb.

“Come on, you always say that thing, give me your kisses and I’ll give you my heart after you kiss her. Why?” You’d give it to her, the woman was persistent.

Looking up at the ceiling, you choose not to meet anyone’s eye, not even your wife’s.

“Hmm, well my grandfather always said it to my grandma before they passed, and I guess it just stuck with me. He’d always tell me that wives needed that little extra bit of loving, so it just became something I said.” Tearing up, you can’t even see the heartfelt smile painted on Steph's face when she looks up at you.

Placing her head on your shoulder, she rubs your back with the hand that’s closest to your body. Her tries at comforting you slowly but surely works and within the span of 5 minutes, you’re back to the smiling charismatic Y/n that everyone knew and loved.

Later that night, when Steph lays next to you in your bed she can’t help but gaze upon the peaceful expression you’re wearing. 

The way you always made her feel so loved was one of the many things she adored about you, and she couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life feeling as loved as she felt every day with you.

#woso #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #woso imagines #steph catley #steph catley x reader #song prompt blurb

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY ZEVRAN ARAINAI  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age: origins, updated version

i'll take that as an apology.

if you want to bed me, you have only to ask.

that's rather saucy of you, isn't it?

magic can kill. knives can kill. even small children, when launched at very fast speeds, can kill.

so let us pretend that i do, indeed, believe murder is wrong.

you say that like it's a bad thing.

why have we not made love as of yet?

how will you ever learn how to pleasure each other unless you talk about it?

it drives me mad with desire.

do i detect a bit of jealousy there? feeling territorial, are we?

sounds intriguing, if you ask me.

you get the most delightful wrinkle in your brow when you are curious.

shall i describe the rest of the ritual to you?

those stories you heard? all true.

i see where this is going. downhill. and quickly too.

you seem rather charmed by the idea.

i am willing to take my chances.

it is flattery only if i exaggerate the truth to please you. i am but stating a simple fact.

now i regret that extra pie at lunch.

so let me get this straight. you have... never wooed? not once? you are woo-less, as it were?

perhaps you have people you need killed.

i said no such thing.

politics and death go together like kisses and lovemaking.

you are... feeling all right, yes? perhaps you are tired?

one day you will realize that you have wasted your youth and beauty on bitterness and suspicion, mark my words.

i'm sorry... are you speaking to me?

does that make you jealous?

i admire you. you are a wicked, wicked woman.

i do not think you a fool. we are not so dissimilar, after all. i know what you are doing.

if you like, i could hoist you up on my back.

i don't go into forests as a rule.

i can think of many other things we can do other than sleep.

when the prey is caught, it deserves a good death, a clean death.

i am not permitted to tell you what they mean.

surely you can see i am serious now. i honestly wish to know.

didn't you desire companionship during those two years?

adventure has changed you.

so i imagine it has been some time for you.

i simply offer my services should you ever feel the need for... release.

has anyone told you what marvelous eyes you possess?

you should be admired by painters, copied by sculptors, exalted by poets.

i am so confused. i think i may cry. may i lay my head in your bosom?

i couldn't help hearing about your... predictament.

how could one kill such a creature without bedding it, first?

could you destroy something as pretty as i am?

one would have to be blind not to realize how very pretty we all are, and how important that is to preserve.

creating a new life can be a great deal of fun.

your form is wonderous, that's true.

i've thought about your predicament, my friend.

surely this must bring you discomfort, knowing you can never partake in such pleasures.

which girl? i saw many and i watched them all.

on second thought, i suppose it would be rude of me to intrude on another man's domain.

you are only slightly more attractive to me than a slime-filled pool of swamp water.

are you dispensing professional advice now?

and here i was becoming rather fond of the idea of you watching me closely.

that cynicism will serve you well, my friend. hold onto it.

#dragon age #zevran arainai #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes

[moeitsu]

Song Lyrics That Remind Me of Arthur Morgan

Nobody asked for this, but I listen to A LOT of music, and this boah is constantly on my mind 24/7. So I thought I'd share some lyrics that remind me of him and his relationships <3

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Hard Believer - First Aid Kit

"So you ask for my opinion. Well, what is there to say? To be honest and just foolish, won't make you wanna stay. You've got to go on and get moving. And I can't do that for you. Got so many plans and so much you wanna do. Love is tough, time is rough on me."

To a Poet - First Aid Kit (Mary & Arthur)

"You said, 'Don't give me nothing you don't wanna lose.' I said, 'Darlin' I'll give you everything I got, if you want them to choose.' Though unwillingly I left and it was so, so hard to do. Now I miss you more than I can take and I will surely break. And every morning that I wake, God, it is the same."

Afraid of Heights - Boygenius (Dutch & Arthur)

"I know I fucked up when I told you I'm afraid of heights. It made you wanna test my courage. You made me climb a cliff at night. You wanted me to jump and I declined. You called me a coward, I replied, I don't wanna live forever, but I don't wanna die tonight."

My Silver Lining - First Aid Kit

"I don't know if I'm scared of dyin', but I'm scared of living too fast, too slow. Regret, remorse, hold on. Oh no I've gotta go. There's no starting over, no new beginnings, time races on. You've just gotta keep on keeping on."

Sun Bleached Flies - Ethel Cain

"If they strike once, then you hit 'em twice as hard. But in the end, if I bend under the weight that they gave me, Then this heart would break and fall twice as far. We all know how it goes, the more it hurts, the less it shows. But I still feel like they all know, and that's why I could never go back home."

Saviour - George Ezra (Mary & Arthur)

"Time was young and you were mine. Take me back to that midnight moon. Cradle me, at that midnight moon. All of me is all for you, and what I got to give is not enough. It's a dark night. Being your own savior, is it saving you?"

Cowboy, Gangster, Politician - Goldie Boutilier (Mary & Arthur)

"We said goodbye, but it never ends. 'Cause you can't get away from a woman who loves you. 'Cause you can't run away from feelings that haunt you. No, you can't separate a fire from a flame that already burns. Every saints a sinner, we all have our past. Forever is a fiction, nothing lasts."

Let Him Fly - Patty Griffin (Mary Gillis-Linton)

"Ain't no talking to this man, ain't no pretty other side. Ain't no way to understand, the stupid words of pride. It would take an acrobat, and I already tried all that so, I'm gonna let him fly. You know the light has left his face, but you can't recall just where or why. So there was really nothing to it, I said I'm gonna let him fly."

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac (Dutch & Arthur)

"And if you don't love me now, You will never love me again. I can still hear you saying, we would never break the chain. Run in the shadows. Damn your love, damn your lies."

Devil's Resting Place - Laura Marling

"I've been with the devil in the devil's resting place. Water won't clean you, you only hold yourself to the things you do. Come up here to speak to me and hold your face to mine. Any man can hold my gaze has done his job just fine. You sold your life away to be with me tonight. Hold your head against my chest, I think you'll be just fine."

Through the Valley - Shawn James

"I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. And I fear no evil because I'm blind to it all, and my mind and my gun they comfort me. Because I know I'll kill my enemies when they come. Surely, goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life. And I will dwell on this earth forevermore. Well, I came upon a man at the top of a hill. Called himself the savior of the human race. Said he'd come to save the world from destruction and pain, but I said, how can you save the world from itself?"

Youngest Daughter - Superheaven

"It's useless, I tried, but to no avail. To tell you how much I know, how much I care. Breathe until your lungs fail, you can sing 'til you go deaf. I am sick, I am horrified at everything I hear. Everyday repeats itself again, the cycle of our misery, It drives us all insane."

The Fall - Gregory Alan Isakov (John & Arthur)

"You heard blood was thick, brothers and sisters. But ya don't know where anybody's at. Time was a bust, you thought you'd better be tough. Nobody gets past the trembling wire. All eyes on you now, on you. We're all holding our breath."

Second Chances - Gregory Alan Isakov (John & Arthur)

"I'm running from nothing, no thoughts in my mind. Oh my heart was all black but I saw something shine. Thought that part was yours, but it might just be mine. I could share it with you, if you gave me the time. I'm all bloody knuckles, longing for home. If it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone."

My Mind - Paris Paloma (Dutch & Arthur)

"What did I do wrong? Will you tell me what I did wrong, what did I? Was it a first offense? How long had you been harboring that vemon? You could have used your words then, you wanted them to hurt and so I let them. Never would I beseech you, to endure what you put me through."

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde #mary gillis #red dead redemption community #red dead fandom #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanart #john marston

[silentwhispofhope]

*Limping to your request box* I MISSED YOU AND I WANT TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA FILLED WITH FLUFF!! Is it okay to request?

💞[Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU]✍️ 🖌️ - Reader is an artist and constantly draws many art in their skin because it's just so satisfying! Their soulmate Vash feels appreciated, in love, and beautiful whenever Reader's drawing appear on his skin. Their art just gives him a reason to love his skin despite skin scars 🥺 🖋️ - Reader does calligraphy, and they sometimes quote the bible doing it cause why not? Soulmate Wolfwood just looks with a soft, maybe teasing smile as he sees his soulmate's work. 😎 📜 - Reader is a poet and they randomly have ideas and prompt all throughout the day, so they grab a pen and start writing all the poetry from their head. Soulmate Knives who's intellectual and curious admires whenever his soulmate's writing appear on his skin, he just covers it from others eyes because pest don't deserve to see this beauty. 🌱

YOU CAN PICK TWO OUT OF THE THREE!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE MY FRIEND!!! 😍💝💌

- Sugar Plum Anon 💟

A/N: Just for you Sugar Plum Anon, I’ll do all three <3 I do hope you’re alright though! Please do stay safe! Since I’m doing all three, I hope you’re alright with headcanons instead of normal lil’ one shots. :)

Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU Headcanons

Vash

He was absolutely scared out of his mind when he first saw the ink appear on his skin. He even went as far as to try to scrub his skin raw, and the ink was still fresh as ever. Poor blondie is wondering how the hell something like this is happening.

Meanwhile, you’re doodling like there’s no tomorrow with your ballpoint pen, tracing the outlines of your veins and doodling smiling faces.

Over time, Vash learns to just accept the random appearance and disappearance of drawings across his body. At the end of the day, it’s like a fun little game to see what’s been sketched on him underneath his turtle neck.

It takes a while for Vash to realize that it’s his soulmate doodles appearing on his skin. Warmth floods his heart each time he thinks of this, causing him to lovely trace the marks across his own skin.

He would laugh sometimes at the sudden ink smear appearing on his skin before new sketch marks appeared, your work hypnotizing him. He especially loved when you used different colors, almost painting his skin like a canvas. Eventually, he makes the move to respond.

So imagine your surprise when you find a poorly drawn flower appear on your skin. Ensue the same panic Vash experienced when you remembered you didn’t draw that.

Wolfwood

Scrubbing his skin did nothing. Seeing the scripture on his forearm made him wonder if he had perhaps gotten too drunk the night before and had gotten a tattoo.

The fancy calligraphy was choice, especially with that proverb. For the lips of the adulterous woman drop honey, and her speech is smoother than oil. Wolfwood decided that there could be worse things etched into his skin from that old religion.

You, on the other hand, were giggling to yourself. Oh, the irony of something appearing to beautiful but naughty. A snort escapes from one of your nearby friends.

He didn’t put anymore thought into it until the next day when the ink disappeared. Lowkey, thought he was super dehydrated for him to imagine that, but nope, even after drinking tons of water, the ink was no longer on his skin.

Cue some praying. He nearly has a heart attack when more ink appears on his skin. He has to go back to the orphanage and ask the elders for help on understanding the situation. Turns out it’s a soulmate thing, one which they didn’t even bother to mention until now.

Overtime, he appreciates the calligraphy he appears on his skin, particularly when new motifs appear. Wolfwood liked seeing you test new things and watch as the ink appear on his skin.

However, he was very glad to wear long sleeves when you would write down a particularly dirty proverb like 5:19. He would always end up blushing a bright red like a tomato, a huge contrast to his normal, stoic personality.

Imagine, your surprise when you notice fresh ink on your skin. For your ways are in the full view of the LORD in basic script.

Knives

He almost didn’t see the script appear on his arms, the ink nearly blending into his suit and pale skin. His fingers traced the letters he could make out. Knives immediately knew what this meant, it was his soulmate reaching out- most likely not knowing what was happening.

He tried to ignore it the best he could and kept himself covered with his cloak. Having someone would just drag him down, make it harder to reach his goal of eradicating humanity. However, his curiosity got the best of him.

Taking another look, the bleach blond quickly recognized the letters as chords with their denoted accidentals. Luckily for him, he new how to play. It was child’s play, really.

Meanwhile, your trying to understand how to play different songs only by listening too them. You were too stubborn to look them up, very confident in your ability.

And so it became a pattern for him to decipher your song you had written on his arm. He would spend hours playing the piano, watching the notes on his arm be crossed out and replaced. The composition rarely stayed imprinted on his skin for longer than a day.

Often, Knives would see lyrics being written with the chords. A little artist are we now? His small joke to himself caused a small smile. He would end up humming them, his low voice cutting through the air. It was for the sake of rhythm, he told himself.

Imagine your surprise when you saw a new. mark you knew you hadn’t inscribed into your skin, a word marked out for another.

#trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #knives x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas wolfwood #millions knives #gender neutral reader #trigun #reader insert

[philtstone]

half wordless, half in elven-tongue

Summary: There is something very practical about Arwen’s ancient and much-powerful grandmother (for an Elf, anyway) that Arwen admires, for she herself has sometimes found it difficult to achieve practicality. Estel, Man though he is, appreciates her fancies very much. He and his poet’s soul. She has spent the last twenty years sharing them with him in her letters, and every response (growing fewer and fewer until these last six months they stopped entirely) has him writing back like one offered water in the desert.

Arwen does not mind; it is not as though she herself has much more sense, climbing into bed with him as she does.

huge shoutout to @firstelevens for reading thru this and telling me it didn't suck despite not really going here. also, a secondary shoutout to @btwxsixesandsevens for gong here even less but inadvertently inspiring the "lover from a story" bit with their (as always) brilliant fic writing. would never have spent 3 weeks agonizing over this otherwise!!!

3rd October, 2952

Mellon,

I’m late writing you for entirely explainable reasons. You will say, not so unusual for you – that is not true, and you are only very over-eager writing me, which should not be as pleasant a revelation as it is – but anyhow, here it is. We’ve had many visitors of late, and my skill was needed in the healing den. Of course, I thought of you (in all Ada’s training I have not read nearly so much about the virtues of athelas as I did skimming your last letter) but I urge you not to worry, as we are all well here and there is no contagious illness. Your presence would have been appreciated though. If not by Ada (he sits in the study sometimes and looks yearningly out the window; I know he is missing you, though he won’t admit to it) than by the poor Dwarf whose stomach could not settle. You were always very good at getting a smile out of even the most stubborn of silly souls. 

On that point, how has it been on the frontier of friend-finding? I know you must not be in the Wilds any longer. Given how swiftly we understood each other, I am sure you will have no trouble at all on that front. Send updates soon,

AE

6th February, 2953

Estel,

Is the Angle so very cold as all that? Do not despair at the stiffness of your welcome (or in your bones!). You are still their kindred and that is manifest even in the curve of the characters you write: you love them already, do you not? Do not deny it. 

I am very intrigued by your observations on the rouge-wearing practices of your people and cannot help but wonder if it is an exclusively Mannish preference. I certainly do not wear it, but I have seen portraits and I do believe Uncle Elros did. I cannot determine the colour, however, as the portrait is old. Thoughts? 

You will see I have many questions today. Your insistence that every Dunedain woman you meet feels akin to a cousin or aunt is terribly amusing (I am almost convinced you are making a joke — are you?). I am sure at least one of them does not reciprocate that sentiment. Are they still wary of you, or very forward now? What is the food like? How many teeth have you broken upon the infamous bread you described? Have you met your grandfather yet? (I remember you were worried about that). 

Do not let the cold seep in too much. You must wear warm socks and eat foods that keep the blood warm. I may be an Elf, but my healing arts extend to many races, so you are thus obliged to listen to me. 

As for the rest – your people will love you soon as you do them, for such a love as the one you give is easy to return. You are certainly very likeable, at any rate, and I will argue with anyone who disagrees. 

Have hope, and be well. All will be as it should.

14th March, 2953

Do not say you listen to me on all fronts, as I have it in writing by your own hand that you have not eaten in three days. In the cold! Foolish man.

25th January, 2956

Elves do not experience such monthly pains, as you well know Estel. Or perhaps you do not, in which case I must chide Ada for thus limiting your training in the healing arts. Childbirth and bearing is a region most important, as I have learned (I can already imagine your blush) from your own mother, with whom I’ve spoken three times since your last letter. I have decided we must become fast friends, and her efforts at formality are altogether poor anyway; her face is as open as yours often is, and it warms me to know whence that quality came. 

Anyhow. The blood in your vest. There is clay that runs beneath the bark of some trees that will remove stains made by bodily fluid. Also vinegar, if you are near a homestead.

READ MORE

#my writing #arwen undomiel #aragorn #aragorn x arwen #galadriel #semi-epistolary there was only one bed lothlorien redux is finally here .... #lord of the rings #tolkien #lotr fanfic

[sabakos]

hi sabaki. why does emily wilson's odyssey translation suck

Okay so, while Wilson's translation is very "readable" and praised as such, it suffers from poor prosody and frequently truncates the meaning of the Greek in the name of fitting the count of the meter.

This claims to be a verse translation in iambic pentameter, and it just isn't that - while the lines do have ten syllables, they rarely scan, and are barely ever even iambic.

A few representative examples chosen at random from some of my favorite parts of the original:

(Book I lines 344-348)

Sullen Telemachus said, “Mother, no, you must not criticize the loyal bard for singing as it pleases him to sing. Poets are not to blame for how things are; Zeus is; he gives to each as is his will.

(Book X, lines 465-473)

We did as she had said. Then every day for a whole year we feasted there on meat and sweet strong wine. But when the year was over, when months had waned and seasons turned, and each long day had passed its course, my loyal men called me and said, ‘Be guided by the gods. Now it is time to think of our own country, if you are fated to survive and reach your high-roofed house and your forefathers’ land.’

(Book XXIII, lines 232-240)

This made him want to cry. He held his love, his faithful wife, and wept. As welcome as the land to swimmers, when Poseidon wrecks their ship at sea and breaks it with great waves and driving winds; a few escape the sea and reach the shore, their skin all caked with brine. Grateful to be alive, they crawl to land. So glad she was to see her own dear husband, and her white arms would not let go his neck.

None of this is unreadable, and though I could go into the meaning of some of the lines and nitpick at some inaccuracies, I'm not sure my arguments would be convincing anyway, since Wilson is a classics professor and I'm not! But I hope these examples at least show that it's shoddy poetic work, and frequently veers into bathos and triviality even in these moments of heightened emotion.

Speaking of bathos, she also named the book divisions for some reason, which is just plain weird - they aren't even original to the text! Why bother? They vary from boring, such as "11 - The Dead" to baffling, such as "13 - Two Tricksters." I guess Athena is supposed to be a "trickster" also? Haha. There's much where we're supposed to appreciate Wilson's cleverness, which is... grating to say the least.

And on the subject of tricksters, despite this being held up as one of her great achievements, I don't think that "complicated" is a particularly good translation for "polytropos" - which is often rendered "many-turns." This is mostly a matter of bad English rather than bad Greek - the word "complicated" just simply does not communicate to me someone with many tricks up their sleeve! It's a bad epithet. I am in a relationship with my epic poem and it's complicated, etc.

There's also the manner of the narrative that Wilson sold to PR agencies about how, as the first woman translator, she essentially claims that all of the previous (male) translators had unconscious sexist biases, and that her translations are more correct. This largely requires swallowing the claim that as a woman she's somehow immune to subconscious biases, which I'm not willing to accept. Again, I could go into detail about how her "feminist" translations distort the meaning in the face of legitimate scholarly interpretation (such as Helen's "bitchface" etc.) but I suspect getting into the weeds of this wouldn't be value positive. But I hope that in 2023 moreso than 2017 more people are willing to raise an eyebrow at this ludicrous claim on principle.

#tagamemnon

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift (Part IV)

I LOOK IN PEOPLE'S WINDOWS

I had died the tiniest death.

I spied the catch in your breath.

I'm afflicted by the not knowing.

I look in people's windows.

They have their friends over to drink nice wine.

I look in people's windows in case you're at their table.

What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

I still ponder what it meant.

I triеd searching faces on streets.

What are the chances you'd be downtown?

Does it feel alright to not know me?

I'm addicted to the "if only".

I look in people's windows like I'm some deranged weirdo.

THE PROPHECY

It's gone again.

I got cursed like Eve got bitten.

Was it punishment?

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

A greater woman wouldn't beg.

I've been on my knees.

Change the prophecy.

Don't want money, just someone who wants my company,

Let it once be me.

Who do I have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?

Still I dream of him.

I sound like an infant.

A greater woman stays cool.

I howl like a wolf at the moon.

I look unstable.

Gathered with a coven 'round a sorceress' table.

A greater woman has faith.

Even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate.

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me it'll be okay.

CASSANDRA

That's where I was when I got the call.

In the streets, there's a raging riot.

Burn the bitch.

When the truth comes out, it's quiet.

They killed *Name* first 'cause she feared the worst

They filled my cell with snakes.

Do you believe me now?

I was in my tower weaving nightmares.

What doesn't kill you makes you aware.

What happens if it becomes who you are?

They set my life in flames.

They knew the whole time that I was onto something.

The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line.

They all said nothing.

Blood's thick but nothing like a payroll.

Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul.

You can mark my words that I said it first.

In the morning warning, no one heard.

That's where I was when I lost it all.

I was onto something.

Not a single word was heard.

PETER

My lost fearless leader.

Is it something I did?

The goddess of timing once found us beguiling.

She said she was trying.

Was she lying?

I didn't wanna come down.

I thought it was just goodbye for now.

You said you were gonna grow up.

Are you still a mind reader?

I've heard great things.

Life was always easier on you than it was on me.

Sometimes it gets me.

We both did the best we could do.

I didn't wanna hang around.

I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn.

I hoped you'd return.

Tell me all that you'd learned.

Love's never lost when perspective is earned.

You said you'd come and get me.

The shelf life of those fantasies has expired.

Forgive me, *Name*, please know that I tried.

I tried to hold on to the days when you were mine.

The woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

THE BOLTER

She almost drowned when she was six in frigid water.

I can confirm she made a curious child.

Reviled by everyone except her own father.

Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless.

Excellent fun 'til you get to know her.

She runs like it's a race.

Her best mates laughed and they nicknamed her "The Bolter".

Oh, we must stop meeting like this.

It always ends up with a town car speeding out the drive one evening.

He'll call her a whore

As she was leaving, it felt like breathing.

All her fuckin' lives flashed before her eyes.

It feels like the time she fell through the ice, then came out alive.

He was a cad, wanted her bad.

She liked the way he tastes.

At first blush, this is fate.

What a charming Saturday.

She just knows she must bolt.

She's been many places with men of many faces.

Hearts are hers for the breakin'.

She's got the best stories.

As she was leaving, it felt like freedom.

ROBIN

Long may you reign.

You're an animal.

You are bloodthirsty

You have no idea.

All this showmanship to keep it for you in sweetness.

Way to go, tiger.

Long may you roar.

You're a just ruler.

You look ridiculous and you have no idea.

Buried down deep and out of your reach, the secret we all vowed to keep.

You got the dragonflies above your bed.

You have a favorite spot on the swing set.

You have no room in your dreams for regrets.

You have no idea.

The time will arrive for the cruel and the mean.

You'll learn to bounce back just like your trampoline.

But now we'll curtail your curiosity in sweetness.

THE MANUSCRIPT

Now and then she rereads the manuscript of the entire torrid affair.

I'm not a donor but I'd give you my heart if you needed it.

You're a professional.

No, just a good samaritan.

If the sex was half as good as the conversation was, soon they'd be pushin' strollers.

Soon it was over.

She wished she was thirty..

Couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed.

She dated boys who were her own age.

She was so wise beyond her years.

Everything had been above board.

The years passed like scenes of a show.

The Professor said to write what you know.

Lookin' backwards might be the only way to move forward.

The actors were hitting their marks.

The slow dance was alight with the sparks.

At last, she knew what the agony had been for.

The only thing that's left is the manuscript.

One last souvenir from my trip to your shores.

The story isn't mine anymore.

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence prompts #lyric sentence starters #lyric starters #music starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #exodusmusing #*mystarters #*ttpd

[burningvelvet]

excerpts from lord byron’s letters that read like tumblr posts from the 1800s

(diary version: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/708562718092836864/random-excerpts-from-lord-byrons-diaries-that)

“We of the craft (poets) are all crazy. Some are affected by gaiety, others by melancholy, but all are more or less touched.”

“Remember me to yourself when drunk. I am not worth a sober thought.”

“Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go, it is useless to inquire. In the midst of myriads of the living & the dead worlds — stars, systems, infinity — why should I be anxious about an atom?”

“I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.”

“I have imbibed such a love for money that I keep some sequins in a drawer to count, and cry over them once a week.”

“I do not believe in any religion. I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.”

“Venice and I agree very well - in the mornings I study Armenian, and in the evenings I go out sometimes - and indulge in coition always.”

“The great object of life is sensation — to feel that we exist, even though in pain. It is this ‘craving void’ which drives us to gaming — to battle — to travel — to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description, whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.”

“If I could always read I should never feel the want of company.”

“When I am ill or unlucky I philosophize as well as I can.”

“Cant is so much stronger than cunt.”

"I have such a detestation of cant ... that I make myself appear rather worse than better than I am."

“There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.”

“Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.”

“I can never get people to understand that poetry is the expression of excited passion, and that there is no such thing as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake or an eternal fever. Besides, who would ever shave themselves in such a state?”

“Why should Queens not be whores? every Whore is a Quean.” [Context: 1. Queen Caroline was being tried for adultery 2. “Quean” was another word for “prostitute”]

“But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.”

“To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.”

“I doubt sometimes whether a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me - yet I sometimes long for it.”

“I think the worst woman that ever existed would have made a man of very passable reputation. They are all better than us, and their faults such as they are must originate with ourselves.”

“I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.”

“Hate is by far the greatest pleasure; men love in haste, but detest in leisure.”

“Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogethery, then inarticulate, and then drunk.”

“In the last two years I have been at Venice, I have spent about five thousand pounds, and I need not have spent a third of this, had it not been that I have a passion for women which is expensive in its variety every where, but less so in Venice than in other cities.”

“I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long, – I am such a strange mélange of good and evil, that it would be difficult to describe me.”

[on a lover, Margarita Cogni] “I forgot to mention that she was very devout, and would cross herself if she heard the prayer-time strike — sometimes when that ceremony did not appear to be much in unison with what she was then about.”

[on his future wife] “I am quite irresolute — and undecided — if I were sure of myself (not of her) I would go — but I am not — & never can be — and what is still worse I have no judgement — & less common sense than an infant — this is not affected humility…”

“I was the fashion when she first came out; I had the character of being a great rake, and was a great dandy — both of which young ladies like. She married me from vanity, and the hope of reforming and fixing me.”

“I read ‘Glenarvon,’ too, by Caro Lamb — God damn!”

"I have seen three men's heads and a child's foreskin cut off in Italy.”

“What could I do? – a foolish girl – in spite of all I could say or do – would come after me... I could not exactly play the Stoic with a woman who had scrambled 800 miles to unphilosophize me.”

“I have fallen in love, which, next to falling into the canal (which would be of no use, as I can swim), is the best or the worst thing I could do.”

(on the possibility of spies being sent for him during the Greek Revolution) “If these Gentlemen have any undue interest and discover my weak side — viz — a propensity to be governed — and were to set a pretty woman or a clever woman about me — with a turn for political or any other sort of intrigue — why — they would make a fool of me — no very difficult matter probably even without such an intervention. But if I can keep passion — at least that passion — out of the question (which may be the more easy as I left my heart in Italy) they will not weather me with quite so much facility.”

[on a Venetian lover, Marianna Segatti] “I am sure if I put a poniard into the hand of this one, she would plunge it where I told her, — and into me, if I offended her. I like this kind of animal, and am sure that I should have preferred Medea to any woman that ever breathed.”

[in response to a fan letter] “You tell me that you wished to know me better, because you liked my writing. I think you must be aware that a writer is in general very different from his productions, and always disappoints those who expect to find in him qualities more agreeable than those of others; I shall certainly not be lessened in my vanity, as a scribbler, by the reflection that a work of mine has given you pleasure; and, to preserve the impression in its favour, I will not risk your good opinion, by inflicting my acquaintance upon you.”

#and indulge in coition always. #literature #english literature #aesthetic #dark academia #poetry #lord byron #romanticism #byronposting #writing #history #funny #quotes #reading #lit #letters #1800s #byron #humour #meme #history meme #litblr #literature quotes #books #quote #words #writers #art #literary history

[mooniwrites]

Borrowed love letters (snippet)

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x blacklatinafem!Reader

Summary: It’s your birthday and Lewis have a few surprises for you. WC: 687 Warnings: besides sickening sweet love and Lewis being a simp, none, I think.

Author note: I haven’t write anything in a very long time, so please be kind! Also, English is not my first language, and I’m not a 100% fluent in it, so I’ll probably have spilling/writing errors. Constructive (and kind) criticism is received and appreciated.

One of the downsides of dating a writer it’s that it doesn’t matter what I write, it’ll never compare to what you can come up, even in one of your ‘worst’ days, when -and I quote- “writers block is kicking your ass”. So that’s why I’m going to borrow the words of famous writers and poets to try to express my love for you, even though I know words aren’t enough to do so.

Today marks the day that you were brought to this world, a day in which the colors are more vibrant, the birds sing a little more and the sun hides because you outshine it.

Today I will give you 27 gifts, 26 to commemorate each year you have walked this earth, and 1 to celebrate the year you have shared with me (the first of many, I pray).

Today, I borrow the words of Kafka “in a way, you are poetry material; you are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out.”

The first gift is a Rothschild Slipper orchid, one of the most expensive and exotic orchids in the world. As a plant mom, I know that you’ll take amazing care of her (please wait for me so we can name it together). The reason of this being the first gift it’s because I know you have been looking for this orchid for years, and also the fact that it flowers every 15 years is a huge proof of patience, love, perseverance and resilience, all things that I link to you, to who you are. I still remember the afternoon where your parents told me about your birth, that you were born death and the doctors had to bring you back to life, how complicated it was and that you spent your first month of life in hospital. I’m glad that baby you was so stubborn and fought.

The second gift is a vintage cigarette holder. Because your soul feels like an old one, one that has seen and felt and cried a lot, and still maintains the kindness and naiveness of a young one. Your existence is an exquisite mix of contradictions, like a very aesthetic artifact that was originally designed for a purpose, but a dark skinned Latina woman that loves to cook while listen ballenato would stare at and wish that she could put those incredible gorgeous Florasis lipsticks (I also pray for the day that they become cruelty free baby).

The third gift is a reversible sapphire white 14K gold ring, just because as soon as I saw it I thought of you wearing and it was meant to be (don’t worry baby, that engagement ring is in the making).

The fourth gift is a rain cloud diffusor, I knew you have wanted one for months, but haven’t got it because you forgot, or you would rather buy something for someone else (because you are selfless like that).

At 5, you fell in love with what is still today your favorite animal: whales. I still remember the way your face got warm when you told me that at 5 you believed whales could come out of anywhere that had water, including rivers or puddles, so it’s only natural that your fifth gift it’s related to them. One of my most precious memories it’s almost frizzing myself to death in Alaska just to see whales doing their dance to eat, or as you would call it “the coolest breathtaking and most beautiful method” , I remember all the times you explained to me how whales do the bubble net fishing method, how they work like an orchestra, with the trumpeters, that swim deep and release air to form bubbles and group the shoal, then the one that call the rest so they can go to the surface and eat, while also singing to confuse the fishes, seeing you get excited hearing their songs, the way your eyes illuminated when they appeared right next to our boat, your tears of happiness because you couldn’t believe what you just witnessed warmed me up better than any jacket could.   And even that freezing winter in Alaska it was warmer than the ones I spent without you by my side.

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 x y/n

[iphigeniainaulis]

Take the bitter with the sweet

Writing this was hard but it helped me realize that I can still call myself a writer even though I don’t post as much as I want to. I do hope that you liked it, @cottonfluffballofdoom, and let’s create even more beautiful works together during future @flash-exchange. Thank you so much for having me here. Without you all I can't call this place home 💛 

Character: Hideyoshi

Promt: Something sweet, something bitter

“...and if one day faith brings us a new challenge, I want to meet it by your side. For as you see, we are the warriors, my dear, and at war as at war. We may be losing our battles here, but we will never be defeated for being loved. 

Find me. Quick, I’ll wait.”

Autumn has finally blossomed, turning the city’s gardens into one rustling sea of scarlet poppies, amber gold and ochreous ground. Maple leaves are everywhere. 

You enter the cool emptiness of a local gallery hall. A maple leaf is gracefully falling at your feet. Nothing is going to be the same, but maybe tomorrow a tiny bud will appear where now emptiness is present. 

Memories of the past still hurt like a scar that has barely healed. It is painful. Not because you have it, but because it will never disappear. A year has passed since your life was divided into before and after. A year since the man who promised to live for the sake of your breath on his lips pushed you into the black hole of despair, separating himself from the course of your life. 

____________

“Everything is fine,” the trembling sound of your voice was a strange contrast to a bright smile on your face, “we’re gonna make it together. It is so much easier with you by my side.”

That was not true, and you both knew that. The following silence condemned your lies, as does the quiet crowd when a singer hits the wrong note.  

“This can’t continue. You are struggling because of me.” Through a transparent surface of a folding screen you could see his mourning profile with shoulders painfully stretched. Wheaten hair was for the first time touched with silver. 

“I need to do the right thing. This is my duty to protect you, after all.”

____________

Yes, it was right. Your body and mind were becoming weaker with each day, and so his grip of your hand was getting tighter. Your lover’s embrace sank like ink into your essence, forever changing its structure, so when you returned to “the present” it was hard to find your own reflection in the mirror. For how can one see the whole when a half is missing?

Yet, life still goes on. The leaves are falling to give new buds a chance to bloom and blossom into something beautiful. You too have to keep going. Even if it means stepping on the broken glass.

The gallery hall is all but dark shadows coming when the icy sunlight is no longer falling from the roof, hidden with November clouds. Myriads of scroll paintings on the walls are telling you about distant times when one country was divided into many. People were suffering, and whispers of poets, mourning for their motherland, were mixing with cries of mothers who’d lost their children. Still, even in the times of darkness there was a place for light. 

One handscroll is dedicated to a story of a man who sought happiness in death until he found a woman who made him fall in love with life. 

You look at another painting with little monkeys reaching for the reflection of the moon instead of searching for it in the sky. 

“Silly monkey,” a sudden rush of air gives you goosebumps, “always being so stubborn, never listening to others. I’ll never forgive you.” 

“Then don’t. Let the monkey learn its lesson.”

Somebody drops a silk coat on your shoulder, and it smells like almond, tea and parchment. Or maybe you just imagine everything. The scent of home, Azuchi, where you used to sew another kimono for your lover on engawa under the night stars. Dim candles left the aroma of incense on your fingers, and you asked the moon to give you some more light.

Almond, tea and parchment. That’s how your pillows smelt after a night of passion. Sometimes you could feel a light touch of his fingers caressing your hair, warm breath on collarbones. 

“Let's work hard today. Don’t forget to eat your breakfast. It’s on the table.”

Almond, tea and parchment. So sweet that it was almost bitter. That’s how your last goodbye felt. Stars dropping from the sky.

“Find me. Quick, I’ll wait.”

You turn around.

(a letter found in your clothes after returning to modern Japan)

Tonight you coughed. Again. I held you in my arms till the first rays of sun appeared on the horizon, but it could barely help you, my dear wife. You fell asleep when I left the room only to lean against the wall and listen to the quiet sound of your breath. 

Every single day you fight with darkness that is way stronger than you, yet your smile keeps getting wider after each battle, and my love for you is growing stronger. 

Sasuke thinks that your condition may become worse as the wormhole is getting closer. That your body and mind may leave me forever. And so I recall.

I recall the memories of your funny face when the morning sun plays with your hair. I think of our conversations, when nature is quiet in the evening and the wind is full of scents. You tell me about Mitsunari’s cat, about your daily tasks and bickering with Mitsuhide. You look so peaceful that it feels surreal. I want to hug you tight and become something bigger than I am now. To protect, to love, to honor your brave yet tender soul.

You are the force of nature. A sun-dazzling creature, you came into my life to create havoc, and now you may disappear, my beautiful thunder.

We argue. Again. You say I’m too stubborn. You blame me for not allowing you to decide for yourself. You think you can handle it. A silly liar. 

But listen..

I know how it feels to be alone. I thought I found the meaning in serving lord Nobunaga. And I still do think so. But now I can't say I don’t have anything to lose. I have. And it's you.

I want to fight for your future, I want you to see the life you've taught me to love. And so I want you to leave.

To become the person you want to be. To share your strength with others. To be full. Don’t forget to eat. Don’t exhaust yourself. And try to find me. I promise to do the same.

I know you’ll probably hate me for what I’m going to do. For forcing you to go back to your time. But I would rather have you alive but distant than ill by my side. 

If one day faith brings us a new challenge, I want to meet it by your side. For as you see, we are the warriors, my dear, and at war as at war. We may be losing our battles here, but we will never be defeated for being loved. 

Forever yours,

Hideyoshi

#ikemen series #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen hideyoshi #flash exchange #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi

[tornrose24]

TGAMM Aladdin AU ideas part 1

Was thinking of those TGAMM Aladdin AU doodles I made and thought of adding more details to that AU:

-This version of Agrabah used to be ruled by a tyrant (the Chairman) with an iron fist until the Chen family overthrew and disposed of him. While Reuben and Esther are far more benevolent in comparison as rulers, the kingdom is still slowly recovering and is a shadow of what it once was.

-Jinx liked how things were ran under the old ruler and wants to overthrow the Chen family and claim the throne. This is where her need to find the lamp would come in.

-The McGees aren’t poor, but they are just barely getting by. Pete desires to restore the kingdom to its glory days and he and Sharon do whatever they can to make money. Molly is the same way. Darryl is still getting into shady stuff to make money the easy way, but tends to get cheated out of whatever he makes.

-Esther and Reuben are seeking potential future brides for their son and to form a political alliance that could help the kingdom. Ollie would rather focus on restoring the kingdom without resorting to that. June is more of an inventor who keeps to herself and has no interest in getting married off either.

-Molly and Libby are still good friends, and Libby’s mother is also barely getting by as a bookseller and poet for hire. Especially after her husband abandoned their family.

-Andrea is one of the potential brides who doesn’t make the cut. (She’s secretly relieved because she already has her eye on someone else).

-I did not assign anyone to Dalia’s role, because I’m leaving that spot open for anyone’s self-insert/oc.

-The way Molly and Ollie meet up would be like in the 2019 film, which would also involve trying to get her brother out of trouble. (Again.) Like in the 2019 film, she would sneak into the palace to meet up with Ollie, who is trying to pass himself off as a servant. Molly is aided by her brother and Libby in sneaking into the palace.

-The two bond over wanting to help the kingdom's people and to restore it back to what it used to be.

-Molly sneaking into the palace is what gets Jinx’s attention. The woman has Molly, Libby, and Darryle captured and claims that she will only let them go without being reported on IF Molly enters the Cave of Wonders. She doesn’t bother mentioning the real identity of the boy Molly visited since its a waste of her time.

-The trio do find a magic carpet.

–Molly finds the lamp. However Darryl is the one who tries to take some treasure for himself, which triggers the collapse.

-While the magic carpet gets Darryl and Libby out of the cave, Molly gets knocked off at one point and becomes trapped. The carpet leaves so fast that Jinx doesn’t see it happen and assumes that her efforts were all for nothing.

-So yeah, no surprise–Scratch is the genie of the lamp. And he is NOT happy that his new master is a very excited young girl who is delighted to have made a new friend who has magic.

-She still manages to trick him into getting her out of the cave and back home though.

-So desperate to get rid of Molly, Scratch tells her about the three wishes and fully intends to screw her over with each one. Except there’s 2 problems. One is that Molly realizes that she has way too many wishes (mostly to better her kingdom) and cannot narrow them down to save her life. The other is that she doesn’t want to lose Scratch THAT fast and refuses to actually make any wishes until she knows for sure what she wants.

-Naturally, he is NOT HAPPY ABOUT THIS.

-Scratch has a much easier time granting wishes of Molly’s very shocked, but also delighted family, though they quickly wise up to the fact that he’s screwing them over on a few.

-He has even less luck with Libby who is VERY genre savvy about genies. She has to coach Molly on how to approach the matter when she is ready.

-Eventually Molly remembers Ollie and tries to go see him, only to find out that he is in fact the crown prince. She is crushed since she hasn’t seen him since before the cave, but there’s no way she can see him if she’s not even a child of nobility.

-However she knows that he cares about the kingdom as much as she does, and decides upon a wish that can do a lot of good. One that can be both selfless AND selfish.

-Molly tells Scratch that she wants him to turn her into a princess. One wealthy enough to gift the kingdom with enough money and goods to keep it going for a decade or two. If she gets the royal family’s attention, she can visit Ollie once more. Scratch is not entirely impressed with the plan, especially after realizing Molly has a crush on the boy, but hey she’s finally making a wish.

-Molly then makes an offer–since she’s had a hard time coming up with wishes, she will use her final wish for Scratch. Whatever he truly wants, she will wish it for him. He admits that he doesn’t exactly enjoy being forced to grant others wishes and wants to be freed from the job. He’s surprised at Molly’s offer, though he’s sure it won’t come to pass.

-However what he does NOT tell Molly is that if he is freed from the lamp, he will be reduced to a powerless mortal capable of dying and without a place to call home, and that idea terrifies him.

-So Scratch grants Molly’s first wish, even if he’s pretty sure its not entirely going to end well. He turns himself into a human and passes himself off as her advisor to keep an eye on things (and to get a front-row seat because this is BOUND to be somewhat entertaining). Libby also wants in and is made Molly’s handmaiden since she doesn’t want a large role that also forces her into the spotlight.

As for what happens next… well, keep an eye out for part 2.

#the ghost and molly mcgee #aladdin au #molly mcgee #scratch the ghost #libby stein torres #ollie chen

[daydream-cement]

can you please write some larissa x reader where the reader has scoliosis and is super insecure about how their back looks since their shoulder blade sticks out and their rib cage is crooked and is in a good amount of pain from it. i’ve been feeling super insecure and bad about my body and i just want some comfort from her.

Beautiful Bodies

Larissa Weems x student!reader

Authors Note: I hope this can make many of my readers feel comforted in the fact that you all have beautiful bodies. I apologize if I didn’t encapsulate scoliosis in a meaningful way. I tried my best.

I used a poem by a creator named Lydia as a part of my inspiration. Here is the link to her poem. I also used inspiration from Amy Poehler’s book and a favorite poem by Amanda Lovelace.

“Good afternoon, Y/n.” Your ever-professional Principal sat next to you as you studied in the library. You were actually pretending to study, but who cares either which way. You looked up and over to her, looking away from your computer screen, even seated she was much taller than you.

“Good afternoon, Principal Weems.” You give her a light smile, unsure of why she was seated with you. Typically, Principal Weems didn’t see students for the fun of it. She wanted to talk to you about something and you didn’t think that you had committed any infractions.

“The school nurse came and talked to me about your most recent visit to see her…” Larissa gently prodded around the topic, wanting you to speak freely rather than her pry it out of you. She wanted yo to want to speak about your scoliosis and how it makes you feel rather than making you uncomfortable.

You take a deep breath and shift your body so you could speak to her, “I’m okay really. I think I was just having a hard day so I just broke down. I’m better now.”

Your response wasn’t reassuring to Principal Weems. She smiled gently and tilted her head at you, “You can talk to me, honey. It’s just us in here.”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” You tried shutting down the conversation before it could truly get started, but Principal Weems persisted

“No, I don’t, but I do know what its like to not feel beautiful.” You sat there in silence, a little upset with her that she decided to bring up your deep insecurities. You shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to look at her any longer.

“I hated my height growing up and my peers even made it clear that I was a little too tall. When I still dated men, most thought I was too tall. It’s hard trying to fit into the beauty box that others want us in. For a long time, I shape-shifted to not be myself. I’ve never regretted something more.” Principal Weems began sharing her experiences with you.

“When we are young, especially young women, there is a little demon of sorts that begins walking with us. He will tell us all of these horrible things that we sometimes may begin to believe about ourselves.” Principal Weems wisdom was beginning to make some sense, you listened, but you remained skeptical of her words, “Now, with good friends or an even better therapist, we begin to tame the demon, making him smaller and smaller until we can relegate him to a shelf in the back of our closet. Every so often mine comes out of hiding now to tell me my height is strange for a woman or that my stature inhibits my femininity. And I tell him, ‘I am far too busy for your funny business today.’”

Her joke made you smile, but you still weren’t feeling exactly better about yourself. Principal Weems reached out tenderly, placing a hand on your shoulder and rubbing it gently, “As a brilliant poet once said, you don’t need to look a certain way to earn someone’s heart, no matter your shape, no matter your size, be proud of all the space your body dares to take up.”

Principal Weems scooted a little closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you the lightest of side hugs, “Our bodies are incredibly unique. I’m sorry for the pain you go through. It’s certainly not fair in the grand scheme of things, but you should know that you, my dear, are beautiful.”

#larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #fanfic #larissa weems x reader #oneshot #student!reader