A gentle reminder that everyone who uses Ai to write is an absolute fuckhead
Hey, you reblogged that AI post and I was surprised to see something so mean on your blog. "If you cant write unassisted, fuck you, youre a disgrace to the community." Is that really something you want on your blog?
Just in case this isn't a spam message:
Posting AI-generated content to a platform intended to be an archive for writers is not appropriate use of the platform. On a platform intended for human creation, it is rude and inappropriate to clog search results with AI-produced content which often plagiarizes the work of human authors.
Use of generative AI is also horrible for our environment, leading to massive waste of fossil fuel energy and water. We should not be doing damage to our planet for the sake of generating (robot-produced, often plagiarized) fiction, especially when the joy of fiction comes from the creation and emotion of real people.
Rather than giving a prompt to a generative AI, people should consider attempting to write their own work, or asking another writer from the fandom if they would be interested in writing it. Anyone who is capable of typing a prompt into ChatGPT is capable of writing a story. The first attempts may not be amazing, but that is true of any skill, and anyone can improve with time and practice - and while ChatGPT may give you big returns in your time, it doesn't give you practice, growth, or creativity, which is where the joy of writing should come from.
Tommy Shelby - Peaky Blinders S3E3
âYou canât hide a hundred years in the ghetto.â
Characters: Lenny Miller, Jonathan Crane, Robert Fischer, Jackson Rippner, Raymond Leon, Emmett (TQPII), Tommy Shelby,
A/N: Requested by @lau219 ,y'all feel free to send requests.
~~
Lenny Miller - Leonard is an experienced man, he knows how to get his way around Y/N. Pretty frequently on his way home, he would already have a rough plan on the evening ahead of them. Sometimes grabbing a bouquet of flowers in the nearby florist shop or a bottle of wine. After coming home, Lenny impatiently would find her around the house, searching for any physical contact he could get. "Did you miss me like I missed you?" He'd ask her in that velvety voice, thumbs rubbing up and down on the little crevice of her hips, almost teasing. Sometimes they end up sitting on the couch, Y/N's feet on his lap as she told him all about her day, while Leonard listened and gave her a massage, hands barely visibly moving higher with each stroke. "Poor girl" He liked to tease, closing the proximity once his pants became too tight in a crotch from the simple touches. "Left you all alone here" From that point, he didn't play coy. Knowing all the right spots to touch, he effortlessly kept making her go soft, almost putty in his hands.
~
Jonathan Crane - Jonathan's methods differed depending on the mood he was in. Sometimes days in Arkham were more difficult than the others, and so his patience ran thin. He'd come back home abruptly, peeling the layers of clothing away. The way he'd press his bare, hot chest against Y/N's back, searching closeness he could get only from her. "Was it a bad day?" She would ask, turning around to face him. Sometimes it would all start from the touch as innocent as holding hands, when he'd direct her hand to his cheek, steely blue eyes carefully studying her body covered in the clothes she was wearing. Pulling her closer till their fronts would connect, and she'd feel the proof of his urgency. His own hands landing on her back, massaging the skin and pulling her against his chest while simultaneously hiding his face in her neck. The way she'd feel him so intensely slightly trembling, connected with shivering delightfully from how his hot breath bounced off her skin could come off as symptoms of fear to a mind so great in his very major.
~
Robert Fischer - Robert's favourite way of showing affection would come on display as soon as he made it through the door. He thoroughly enjoyed the ability Y/N taught him - talking. Using words of affection was one of the greatest joys for both of them, after all the time it took for him to get used to doing so. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Missed you so much" He spoke softly into her ear, the vulnerable tone of his voice showing nothing but honesty. Y/N immediately mirrored his mood most of the time, growing warm in his embrace. In a couple swift movements he'd gain access to her skin, caressing it delicately while simultaneously holding her gaze. "I need you" he'd confess quietly, leaning to capture her lips in a kiss so needy, Y/N could barely breathe.
~
Jackson Rippner - Jackson was anything but patient when this urge would hit. It wouldn't matter whether she was busy or not, his hot hands would grasp her hips, often pressing her against something to gain control. Leaning down to graze his nose against the sensitive skin of her neck, taking in the scent that never failed to make him hard. "Jackson, I'm busy" Y/N would sometimes manage to stutter out, feeling the heavy weight of his body against her back. A quiet chuckle would push past his lips, as he pressed harder. "What can possibly be more important than taking care of your man?" His voice would come off arrogant, often purposely. Knowing how well it worked on working her up. His roughed up hands would move higher, barely brushing against her breasts to come resting on her throat, not squeezing just yet. "Feel what you do to me, sweetheart?" He'd growl, nearly on the edge of just... Bending her over the desk and taking what he wanted. Giving her throat a little squeeze, he'd quickly reach between her legs, getting a hold of her. Jackson's lips would stretch into an arrogant grin as he'd feel the wetness beneath her panties. Lightly rubbing against her covered slit, he'd lean closer to whisper. "So wet and needy. I'll give you what you need, but you owe me one, hmm?"
~
Raymond Leon - Raymond wasn't one to ask, not to.. talk too much. He liked to use the advantage of how easily bothered Y/N would get seeing him like that. "What are you doing?" he'd ask like it mattered, leaning on the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His scent and warmth would be enough to make her notice the close proximity, causing Y/N to squeeze her thighs together lightly. Not going unnoticed under his watchful gaze, as he'd keep looking at her, knowing well she could feel him watching. Brushing his arm lightly against hers, he'd move around pretending to be busy before finally having her cornered. She'd be breathing heavily, eyes taking greedily the sight of his bare, freckles skin and muscles on his torso. Sooner or later his hands would end up on her face, pulling her closer. Their noses brushing against each other as he'd smile, looking deeply into her eyes. "What got you so bothered, honey?" Raymond would ask, because even though he hated talking, he secretly loved hearing her talk.
~
Emmett - His favourite thing to get Y/N in the mood would always be kissing. He'd lean in for a kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around her middle to keep her in place. The deep groans leaving his lips would echo in her stomach, making the heat pool to the lower side of it. "So beautiful" He'd murmur in a deep voice, keeping her lips occupied with his own while slowly touching and grasping every inch of her skin he could get to. "Emmettâ" Y/N's whiny voice would never cease to make him lightheaded as he moved lower, kissing a trail they both knew by heart already. "Keep saying it, baby. Keep saying my name" His voice was rougher with lust as he kept her legs apart, kissing her stomach and hips. She had a hard time staying still, squirming needily in his grasp. "Come here.." He cooed, looking her in the eyes as his face moved closer to where she needed him the most. "Let me take care of you" Emmett whispered, as his face leaned down, diving between her legs.
~
Tommy Shelby - Thomas loved the control he secretly held over Y/N when it comes to her needs. Being so fluent in directing them with his touch or affection. The way she'd move around, doing her own thing while pretending to not feel how he looked at her. "Come here, darling" He'd eventually call out, patting his thigh. He'd use the close proximity to look her in the eyes, encouraging to talk about her whereabouts when he was at work, while petting her thighs lightly. He touched and felt, eyes following the tender lines of her body beneath the clothes she wore. He'd proceed to touch caress her cheeks, pulling her closer as he murmured how beautiful she was. Y/N could never remain unaffected under his rough fingers and soft words, leaning into his touch with a sigh. "You're my good girl, aren't you? Always so good for me." He purred, feeling how fast her heartbeat became under the weight of his seductive words. He'd gently rub her inner thighs, before parting her legs and letting his hands claim what was his Swallowing every cry that would come out of her mouth not longer after, as she writhed on his lap in orgasmic spasms.
We missed you đ
Lol thanks
When your girlfriend gets pregnant, and youâre not ready to become a father, and youâre forced into a position that cripples you emotionally, financially and irreversibly, remember: you did this.
When your sisterâs pregnancy turns out to be ectopic, and she canât get the life-saving medical care she needs and dies a completely pointless, preventable death, remember: you did this.
When your 12-year-old daughter is raped by her soccer coach â after heâs legally allowed to strip off her pants and peep at her genitals, because the existence of trans kids terrifies you â and she steals your shotgun and kills herself in your garage, remember, first and foremost: you did this.
Hundreds of thousands of people are going to die because of the decision you made today.
You did that.
S01 E19
please, like/reblog if you use it
donât redistribute and claim as your own
Let the Irish smoke zaza in peace âđ»
Pookie, you good?
Found this on Pinterest at 2:30 in the morning.
i hope you write (i hope we both write)
LOVE YOU WITH MY EYES CLOSED
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Part one Part two Part three
Summary: At a young age Y/N was given away for marriage, years later the dust began to settle and her life caught a rhythm she stopped fighting. Is Tommy, the man she once knew too well, ready to play along and let her go once again?
Word count: 2.9k
Warnings: depression, heartache, mental and physical abuse
A/N: Slow introduction, next chapter will pick up on pace. Enjoy
Coming back to Birmingham ignited more mixed feelings than Y/N expected it ever would. Pushing through the difficult changes back in the day caused her to stomach so much pain and.. distress at the inability to make her own choices. She thought there was nothing in her to cause fear anymore.
A weird kind of fear it was, this time. Looking out the window as the train plummeted through the fields, shaking and groaning under the weight of people all heading to the city she couldn't shake off. Four years passed so quickly, in a pace she didn't understand when she looked back at the first months of constant struggle she endured. Leaving everything behind. Becoming nothing more than a tool to life of.. prosperity for her family.
She fought it for so long, back then. Much to her father's misunderstanding, her unbreakable spirit made everything so much more difficult.
Yet eventually everything must come to an end though, in a reality where her value was tightly connected with how pretty she was, and how aesthetically pleasing she looked, hanging on the arm of a man she barely knew.
It was much easier to ignore from the distance, but the closer she got to Birmingham, more wounds began reopening, hurting and itching despite her neutral expression and unmoving figure.
One of his hands rested on her thigh, the other one holding a newspaper. The lack of communication was nothing short of normal between them. After all, when nobody was around, they didn't have to pretend as much. Nickolas Winterbourne, a man coming from a life where nothing ever ran out, where pantries were never empty and clothes never dirty. He existed in a controlled environment snuggly clothed in money at every corner, shielding him from any difficulties life planned to throw his way - unaffected by the simple disdain of modern times they happened to live in.
For what it was worth, Y/N considered herself lucky. He was⊠polite, usually gentle which was way more than she could have ever asked for from people in his social class. His hands were smooth, untainted by physical labour that he never had to do. His disposition contradicted his father's, a man purely self-absorbed and cruel with one purpose â wealth.
Y/N was grateful for the person he was deep down, even though he was forcing her into situations they could avoid, yet rarely violating her physically or mentally.
Nickolas was⊠indifferent. His demeanour calm, collected and bordering on bored most of the time. His eyes looked at her with a never ending patience and neutrality she grew to appreciate, after watching the way many of his brothers treated their own wives. She was lucky.
The mindset she worked so hard to build, throwing away the values she dreamed of as a little girl, the warm dreams of having a loving marriage with several kids, conversations that would seem to go on forever sprinkled with tender kisses on the forehead and warm touches that would warm her up on cold nights. She exchanged those hopes for expensive dresses and a mansion much too big for any amount of wood to warm. There were continual expensive dinners and meaningless conversations with people she wouldn't care to see ever again with fake seemingly polite smiles. These people never stopped beckoning for their service, acting like the simple action of pouring themselves tea was too much to burden their minds with.
So she was grateful, playing along with the quick pace of life they had. Dressing up quickly, perfecting the empty smile she got used to wearing on a daily basis.
âBe grateful, because you could have had it much worseâ she mentally repeated to herself.
A soft squeeze of his hand tore her out of her thoughts, his brown eyes watching her patiently. He witnessed the difficulties she struggled with back then. So her silence rang louder than ever.
âWe will spend two days in Birmingham and be back on our way. Tomorrow is the day of the gala, and the day after you will spend on your own matters.â He spoke quietly, reading the troubling emotions in her eyes. He always saw through the mask of neutrality he taught her how to wear like her second skin: a mutual understanding.
Her eyes slowly followed along the lines of his face, finally settling on holding eye contact. Slowly nodding, she covered his hand with her own before forcing out a small smile.
âThank youâ She responded, straightening her back before the train started slowing down before coming to a full stop.
Patting her thigh for the last time, he pulled away.
âCome on. It's time to goâ
~~
After getting out of the train, Y/N watched how after stepping out her boots immediately covered in mud.
Some things never changed, she thought with a smile as the scent of smoke filled her nostrils.
âChristâ Nickolas muttered, his face twisting in disgust. Birmingham was nothing like the London they were used to, first expression of the city obnoxiously underwhelming for Winterbourne.
Standing by the road sign they waited for a moment before the designated car pulled up, halting by their feet as the driver opened the door, offering to help in packing the luggage.
Y/N seemed distraught, looking around as she immediately recognized the streets despite small differences and the fact she didn't leave even remotely close back then. A city centre it was, fair distance from Small Heath. A place she used to call home.
âCome on, get in the carâ Nickolas whispered, noticing her distracted gaze, grabbing her arm lightly and nudging her towards the vehicle, bringing her out of memories thick like smoke. Looking at him she nodded, obediently getting inside before the car took them to the hotel.
One she had never been in before. This whole situation felt suffocating in ways so weird, she was barely able to look him in the eyes. Even as they moved to the building, getting all the formalities done she couldn't help but let her mind wander towards the ghosts of her past.
Loud, obnoxious laugh filled her head bringing a little smile on her red lips. One that definitely belonged to John, his eyes glimmering with mischief like most of the time. Through the eyes of imagination she saw Ada's long, dark hair she constantly complained about, sighing dramatically in a way that never ceased to make Y/N roll her eyes. Suffering from success, she used to call it, teasing her friend with whom she grew up so close.
A sound came to her ears as lift brought them to the right level, she moved seemingly on an autopilot when her husband fumbled with keys, looking for the right one.
As the door swung open she let out a silent sigh as she remembered. The memory she worked on suppressing so long caught up randomly, big, blue eyes surrounded by thick, dark eyelashes. Colour so dynamic, swiftly changing with the feeling simmering beneath his tough exterior, yet always so bright and clear when he looked at her. She felt like she saw him for the first time, despite it being nothing but her exterior shell shattering at the unwanted memories flooding back in.
Suddenly, she felt out of breath and barely an hour after checking into the hotel, she was in bed facing away from Nickolas. The wall she put up between them nearing the height of one he tried to shatter after getting to know the girl. She seemed so small as she lay on her side, every inch of her body hidden under covers. Hair scattered on the pillow, keeping his gaze away from her features.
They just got here, and he was already losing, Nickolas thought, before remembering the small detail that could shatter his reality if ease if looked into.
âGoodnightâ He whispered, pressing a kiss onto her shoulder before turning away and giving her space as the lights went out.
It was only so long he could bend reality to his will, he thought, before closing his eyes and allowing Morpheus' embrace to swallow him up.
In contrast to him, Y/N didn't fall asleep once. The unknown anticipation swirled around in her stomach, pushing her even further away from the man sleeping by her side. Something was coming, and she knew it.
~~
âDo you really trust what you're saying?â Her voice came to his ears, quieter, less confident than usually she'd speak to him.
Leaning forward on his arms, he let his head drop in defeat for a moment before lifting him up. Strong, unyielding gaze meeting her worried, slightly anxious eyes.
Her position in the family and in company made her learn how to deal with emotions on her own for years.. which was never an issue. Woman could only be so vulnerable after raising that many kids and protecting them from the disgusting reality with her fragile hands and soul on her shoulder. But she managed.
So the rare vulnerability she displayed that evening, looking in her nephew's eyes was nothing short of special. The string of responsibility connecting them in ways none of his siblings would understand.
Staring blankly for a moment, he ended up nodding.
âI know, Polly.â He spoke up, his voice heavy with exhaustion and the fear he tried to bury somewhere between his ribs, to never be seen again. But it was there, alive as ever, making his heart thump in an unnatural rhythm. Reminding him of one of survival. Desperate attempts to stick to life even when the dirty earth in the tunnels tried to swallow him alive.
âYou need to trust me when I say things will go back to normal. I waited for long enough.â His voice came out sharper than he'd like it to. Blue eyes soothing the damage his voice has done and Polly understood.
Being a witness to the struggles he faced on daily, responsibilities piling on him like layers of clothing, giving no space to grieve the loss of someone who was never supposed to be gone.
âŠand so he didn't. Instead building an empire on his bitterness and pain, trusting that⊠whatever was up there would provide if it was meant to be.
That day for once in his life Thomas wanted to pray.
~~
âYou need to pick up your pace, Y/N. We can't afford to be late to such an event.â Nickolas snapped, his usually calm and collected demeanour dishevelled with stress as he watched time ticking away on his watch.
She didn't sleep, almost at all. Putting on the mask was more difficult than usual, having to layer the makeup on her tired face, exhausted eyes. The years of struggles managed to catch up in the nine hours she spent on trying to fall asleep. Dreamless nights and loveless days connected with the anticipation in her stomach making it impossible to close her eyes.
âWhat will they think of us if we show up late, Y/N?â He shot once again watching her movements with his chin higher than he usually carried.
In moments of distress Y/N saw his father in him, usually perfectly hidden away lack of spine showing through the wounds of what the perfect life did to him. Minor inconvenience making him furious.
âPut on your jacket and smoke a cigarette, Nickolas. By the time you're done I will be waiting.â She responded in a neutral way, already taught to not feed into his bitterness in such situations. Not because he was right, but rather to avoid making him cranky as he would surely ruin her already difficult evening.
Watching her with contempt for a moment, he let out a heavy breath before stepping away.
âFive minutes or you will walk there. I'm not going to be late because of your irresponsibility.â His voice faded with the distance growing between them.
Y/N sighed looking at her reflection.
A man that was never supposed to be a husband.
All eyes were on them as soon as they arrived. Y/N smiled, nodding along to the people she saw for the first time as they spoke to Nickolas. She was to not speak unless spoken to, Mr. Winterbourne taught her four years ago. Smile, look pretty and watch your husband. Be attentive and elegant at all times.
Entering the event took them about fifteen minutes with all the pleasantries Nick kept giving away to his associates. Deep down she hated it. The constant need to pretend, not a single movement one of her own.
âMr. Winterbourne!â A voice came from behind their back as they walked into the main room. An older man with jet-black hair approached quickly, his arm wrapped around the waist of his wife. Glancing at her, they exchanged a joyful look before standing right by Y/N. âLong time no seeâ His voice was low, but not threatening. Something about the tall and broad man was inviting, friendly.
âIndeed, it's been a long while.â Nick responded, straightening his back before greeting the older woman, getting a hold of her hand gently and kissing the temple. âHow is life treating you, Sir?â His tone mannered and calm, just like always whenever he was in a public eye. After getting a response, he began talking about the details of the gala before the woman suddenly interrupted him.
â...and who is this beautiful woman?â She spoke completely relaxed to which Y/Nâs eyes widened in surprise. If she interrupted her husband or any man he was currently talking to in such a manner, she'd get severely punished if not slapped at the spot. Nicholas raised his eyebrow but quickly put on a collected exterior again.
âThis is my wife, Y/Nâ He introduced her, slightly embarrassed that he forgot to do so in the first place. What would they think of him? The older man reflected, kissing her temple with a smile and his wife took her hand in her own.
âOh, I seeâ She said, looking at the ring on her finger. âAbsolutely beautiful, how about we get something to drink while men talk about the important matters?â She suggested light-heartedly, winking at her husband who chuckled, shaking his head before giving a simple nod.
âGreat idea. I will find you in just a few moments, Precious.â
The way their interactions took place made Y/N truly shocked, she's never seen such behaviour among people in their class before. Were people of Birmingham different than them?
Waiting for his approval obediently Y/N only moved when he gave her a stern nod, clearly not pleased with his own performance, yet he would never admit it.
His behaviour was different this time, she could clearly see it. He was more emotional in the wrong way, every little detail making him visibly angry.
âIâm Meredithâ The seemingly fourty year old woman stated, glancing at Y/N sideways. âYou seem to love these kind of events, don't you?â She joked, seeing the way Y/Nâs smile dropped as soon as they turned away from their husbands. Internally she panicked hearing the elegant woman's remark, her eyes widening with fear. âOh, no worries. We're on the same page⊠besides. They serve really good drinks, so soon enough it will be bearable.â The tone of her voice was light and amusing as she gave Y/N a little shove. Her demeanor was relaxed and open, matching her husband's which was⊠refreshing.
âBetter get to it thenâ She mustered a smile in response.
To be fair, time did start passing faster as they settled by the table, slowly sipping on tasteful drinks and talking in a way that allowed Y/N feel much less comfortable than she was at first. A breath of fresh air.
âWeâre local. My husband, Christopher, is the owner of several businesses passed down through the family. That's how he knows Winterbournes.â She explained eventually before leaning in closer. âHe doesn't get along well with your father in law. Tradition and peace are the only things keeping them tied together.â
Y/N listened carefully, appreciating that after a couple drinks Meredith's tongue got a bit loose. Usually she'd never hear a single detail about her husband's business or family. She wasn't family by blood, so her access to information was very restricted.
Getting lost in her thoughts again she zoned out for a second before Nickolasâ voice came to her ear from close proximity.
âThis is my wife, Y/N Winterbourne.â He introduced her and it took a second to stand up, smooth out her dress before her eyes met the guests.
âŠand just for a second, her heart stopped, mouth slightly parting as she met the blue gaze she dreamed of for so many years.
âMay we dance, Mrs. Winterbourne?â Thomas Shelby asked, standing side to side with her husband. Slightly shorter yet visibly towering over him.
For once she forgot her manners, not able to tear her eyes away from him as she gave a quick nod and without another word, he grabbed her hand pulling her towards the dance floor among other couples. Completely stiff and frozen, her vocal chords were not cooperating as she was on the verge of a panic attack.
His hands grabbed her own, setting them on his shoulders as he pulled her closer.
âBreatheâ He said quietly in a husky tone as his scent almost made her faint.