#before they added it as an option you'd just kind of have to delete the post to stop getting notifs

[polarfarina]

In case you actually want to know why you can't reblog it, Tumblr has an option where you can turn off reblogs for a post, so nobody at all can reblog it. It's an option when you initially make a post, but a post's rebloggable status can be changed after posting. It's a feature used a lot when posts "leave containment," or when people who aren't in the target audience start spreading a post around. Sometimes, getting a lot of attention on a post can be annoying, especially when people who don't understand where you're coming from start taking issue with you, so when someone has had enough, they turn off reblogs to stop it from spreading everywhere. Likely, the op of that post was tired of people bugging them, so they just stopped making it spreadable.

i can't reblog this, and i don't know why

But this is ABSOLUTELY true. We all need to check ourselves from time to time.

[shootthemessenger]

the delicate art of a criminal mind [a.m-r. ; b.d.h.]

ally mayfair-richards x fem!reader x billie dean howard

summary: two of the FBI’s most wanted, two convicted felons, and a policeman’s daughter make for one hell of a love story

disclaimer: strong language, sexual nature, brief adultery, short-lived angst

I’m so sorry that this sucks, I had a fucking AMAZING version of it that got deleted due to technical difficulties (me, im the technical difficulty) also this is an edited version of a story I wrote YEARS ago so if some of the names/third person editing are/is wrong I’m sorry

gif belongs to @valenthatgurl

Billie’s eyes traveled slowly down your body, mind drinking in your figure as a delicate smirk probed at her lips. “Have I ever told you how much I adore you, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from your throat or the smile on your face. The blonde moved carefully behind you, letting her hands fall against the curves of your hips where they rested gently. She liked to hold you between her two hands.

“Often.” You replied simply which only caused her to let out a breathy chuckle and press a chaste kiss to the base of your neck. Billie locked eyes with you through the mirror in front of you, eyebrow twitching in amusement as she watched you adjust your earrings carefully.

She had bought you them last week, in a small shop in Miami, refusing to show you the price tag even after she bought them. It was often that she showered you in small, expensive gifts. Afterall, she believed she had to pay you back for kidnapping you in the first place.

It wasn’t planned, necessarily. Your mother was a police chief in the small town you lived in who had been hunting after Billie and her team for months. As crazy as it seemed as you stood there so intimately with her, she was a criminal and had been for most of her life.

It started when she was younger, stashing trinkets into her backpack from stores and gifting them to her friends. Then she moved on to bigger things, clothing and electronics from the mall that she would keep just for the thrill of knowing she had them.

Then came the bank heist. She had gathered her team, team being her good friend Misty and Misty’s girlfriend, Cordelia. They forced their way into the bank and forced the money into the bags as swiftly as they could.

By the time they got outside, they was surrounded with bags upon bags of cash tucked in her team’s hands. Completely drowning under the police presence, they had no choice but to shovel into the police car closest to them and pray they were capable of getting away.

What Billie hadn’t accounted for was the fact that you would be sitting in the passenger seat of the car she rushed, waiting for your mother to return and finish, what had started off as, your ride-along for the day.

Nevertheless, she had no time to think before she was barreling down the road and hoping she could figure out what to do with you once she was out of such traffic.

In the beginning the two of you hated each other but the more time you spent together the more you fell for one another.

Eventually, you started dating and had been growing strong since then. Now you were here, the four of you had been on the run together for 3 years and had covered most of the U.S..

You were the current occupant of an old, run-down hotel in LA. Tonight, you were headed to a new club that had just opened up downtown.

Billie called it “hiding in plain sight” but really it was just an excuse to get you into the black dress she had loved so much and grinding up against her into the late hours of the night.

"I love you so much." Billie’s voice was low and raspy, the way she knew you liked. "I love you, darling." You returned.

Weird looks were shot to Billie from her two partners, they had never seen the woman be so affectionate towards someone so openly.

It was easy to say that Billie had never been affectionate to anyone until you came along.

Billie was the leader of the three; easily the brains of the group. She was cunning and persuasive and intelligent; all things you'd think a criminal would have to be to do the things that they would do. She was damn near a loose cannon and not many people risked getting too close.

Cordelia and Misty were the only friends Billie really had and she didn't mind one bit. She worked better alone.

Never get in Billie Dean Howard’s way; everyone knew that by now.

Misty was what most people would call the muscle of the group, though all three of them could easily take down someone on their own. She was tactically trained and she could easily rough someone up.

She always wore a set of thick leather gloves around her slender fingers, which meant that she was ready to start swinging anytime she might have needed to. It kept people from messing with Billie and Cordelia and it got them whatever they needed and wanted.

Cordelia, on the other hand, was more of the beauty of the group. Not that she couldn't rough someone up if it came down to it, but there was something about her that drew people in. She was incredibly beautiful and she had no problem using that to her own advantage. She could get anything with a bat of her deep brown-colored doe eyes and, of course, her habit of biting her lip didn't hurt when added to the mix.

She was irresistible, especially in the type of clothes she was wearing now; a short black dress that hugged every delicate inch of her body. She had the perfect hips to fill in a dress like that. She was the team's biggest distraction.

“Uh...B?” Misty interrupted, her eyes scanning over her phone screen. “Maybe we should just stay here tonight.” She proposed, glancing up at the blonde.

Billie cocked her eyes, hesitantly pulling away from you to sit on the end of the bed. “Why’s that?” She pulled a cigarette between her lips and lit it, watching glancing between her two partners.

"Ally is in town and by the looks of it, she’ll be in the exact same place we will.” She turned a phone around to display a text sent from her from one of her former accomplices, it read “look who i just ran into” with a photo of the woman attached.

“We need to take her out.” Cordelia piped up, moving to sit on the dresser across from the bed. “Tonight.”

Ally Mayfair-Richards was another criminal, just as the three girls were. She was the only woman or man who had ever dared to step up towards Billie’s authority. When it became two much, the three girls parted ways with Ally and decided to stick together without her.

Since then, they had all been rivals and avoided each other at all costs in fear one party would cause harm to the other or worse; they’d all get caught together.

Billie knew that all she needed was to get the cops and Ally in the same place and let the law do it's job to rid her of her rival. It wasn't like they wouldn't know her from her face, they'd been chasing her for almost seven years now, but it wasn't like they didn't know Billie’s face either.

“How are we supposed to take her out and go unnoticed? That’s fucking impossible without getting our own asses caught.” Billie huffed as Misty began to pace in thought.

It was silent for a moment until Cordelia’s face lit up, a look that had caused Billie trouble since the very beginning. It was never good when Cordelia gave that look. “Y/N!” She suddenly blurted out, face curling into a cunning smirk.

All three of you made a weird face at her, “What about her?” Billie questioned cautiously. “We can use her.” Cordelia answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “shes smoking hot and everyone knows Ally is a sucker for an attractive woman.”

Billie’s eyes widened as she rose to her feet before narrowing at the woman across from her, “Don’t even fucking think about it.” She hissed, hand already balling at her side.

She moved in front of you, blocking you from Cordelia’s view, “Get that thought out of your thick skull because it’s not happening.”

Misty sighed, “Come on B, all she’s gotta do is a little bit of grinding and a lot of distracting and we can handle the rest.” Everything was quiet as Billie glanced between Cordelia and Misty, “No.” She mumbled harshly.

Misty huffed, “It’s our only option, B. Ally doesn’t know what Y/N looks like and by now, she’s grown so much she could easily hide from the cops. It’s perfect!”

“It’s Ally to prison or us, you choose Billie.” Cordelia added, causing Billie to huff and glance at you.

“I don’t mind.” You finally spoke, playing with Billie’s fingers gently. “I’ve always wanted to help.” You pouted, knowing Billie had a weak spot for your eyes.

After a moment of silence she sighed and stepped towards the two women across the room, “Anything happens to her and I’ll send you both to prison myself, whether I have to join you or not.” Cordelia and Misty both grinned as they murmured their enthusiasm and disappeared down the hall to their own room.

Billie turned to you as soon as the door clicked closed, pinning you against the mirror you had been getting ready in. You offered a sheepish smile to which she shook her head, “ That’s not going to work this time. Anything goes wrong and I swear you’ll never get to help us again, do you understand me?”

Her eyes watched you, fueled with fire. You gulped and nodded as she pressed her lips to yours firmly, gripping your hips with a new kind of power she had not had a few minutes ago.

By exactly eight-thirty, the four of you rolled up to the club. Lights and loud music from inside were already screaming at you and you could feel the music vibrating against the concrete. Billie was starting to get nervous, all thought she’d never openly admit it.

Cordelia turned from her place in the drivers seat and glanced at you in the back, “Alright chica, all you’ve got to do is dance. There’s a cop down the street and we’ll get him on Ally’s trail. We’ll all be keeping an eye on you. You’ve just got to keep her attention long enough. Just be sexy, that’s all you have to do.” Billie huffed in protest at the last part, her grip on your leg becoming tighter.

Once Misty and Cordelia had scurried out of the car, Billie turned to you and pressed her lips against your ear, “I’ll be watching you, little one.” She watched the shiver rack your spine before jumping out of the car and disappearing into the club.

You let out a heavy breath before getting out and making your way inside. Immediately, you were met with the sexual tension suffocating the room as bodies moved against one another.

You located Billie across the room, settled at the end of the bar and the other two women situated in a booth across the room.

You locked eyes with Billie and winked descretely before settling into an open seat and ordering the strongest drink you could find; you were going to need it.

No more than ten minutes past before you could feel someone standing behind you, a hand brushed against your hip as they sat down and you jumped slightly.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” The woman mumbled softly as she settled into the seat next to you with her arm rested on the bar. “Let me get you another drink.” She offered.

Her voice was quiet and thick as she leaned into you, a strand of her hair brushing against your shoulder.

Looking up, you locked eyes with her and caught a blush that began to spread across your face. You nodded softly, regaining composure as you stuttered something along the lines of “sure” and allowed her to lean into you as she laughed, “No need to be nervous, beautiful.”

“I saw you from across the room, no woman as beautiful as yourself should sit alone.” Mentally, you rolled your eyes at her cheesy confidence, watching closely as she licked her lips before ordering two drinks.

You were so caught up in staring at her that you couldn’t even catch what she was talking about. That was, until her fingers snapped in front of your face and you had to force yourself into reality, “Huh, what?”

She shook her head and laughed, “I asked you your name.” She repeated, leaning in so that you could hear her better. “Y/N. Yours?” You answered softly, taking a sip of your drink.

She licked her lips once again, “Ally.” Your eyes widened before you quickly corrected your face. She propped her elbow on the counter as you glanced at the clock nervously. Now that you knew it was her you were talking to, you were growing nervous.

“Would you like to dance?” You questioned, shaking of the nervousness that probed at your stomach. She simply smiled and pushed herself onto her feet, allowing you to stand. She followed you out onto the dance floor, waiting until you were situated before letting her hands find the dip in your waist and pulling you to her closely.

As you started to roll your hips into her, she leaned in until her mouth was lingering against your ear, “You really are a sight for sore eyes. You were having trouble concentrating as her lips began to trail down your neck.

“T-thanks.” You let your eyes flutter closed, almost finding yourself enjoying the feeling of her lips on your skin until the thought of Billie popped into your head and your eyes snapped open again.

Ally was surely leaving a hickey on your neck, and the eerie feeling of someone watching you was bubbling in your chest though you couldn’t figure out which direction it was coming from.

One again, you let the feeling of Ally pressed against you and the base rattling your tipsy brain take oven. “You’re enjoying this just as much as I am.” Ally mumbled from behind you, fingers digging into your skin.

You couldn’t deny it. You had Billie, you would never be able to deny the love you had for her. But in that moment you craved Ally.

And you couldn’t stop it. It was eating you up inside but you let the alcohol pumping in your veins control you and simply nodded and turned to face her.

You couldn’t help but notice she smelled like honey. As you took a deep breath, a fire ignited somewhere within you. It was very different from the strawberries and cream smell you were used to with Billie.

Your little bubble with Ally was burst as the door to the club swung open and a cope stepped in, his eyes glancing around the room as if he was already looking for someone.

You felt Ally tense beside you, before your eyes met and her face spread into a mischievous grin. “You’re coming with me.” And with that she was tugging you out the back door.

Billie felt a heaviness in her chest, one that made it heard to breathe and made her heart feel as if it was beating so hard in on her chest that it was rattling her bones.

Her eyes had turned a violent black color as her fingernails dig into her palms so persistently that she created crescent shapes in her skin.

She could have killed someone right in that moment.

She was only brought out of her state by someone clearing their throat from beside her and turned to meet her partners, who both look d so nervous they could faint.

“We lost her.” Misty squeaked out, they had all taken their eyes off the dancing girls for a split second and by the time their narrowed their attention, they were gone.

Billie’s eyes visibly darkened and Cordelia gulped nervously as Billie backed the two of them into a wall, “Find her. Or so help me God, you’re dead.”

Back outside, you and Ally slowed down next to a car you assumed to be hers. You could see the outline of two bodyguards through the tented windows.

Ally smirked, pressing you against the passenger door as her lips ghosted against yours; neither of you leaning in enough to fill the small gap.

“I-uh-“ you mumbled underneath the taller woman, who let her eyes open again and pushed back slightly. “Come with me.” She stated quickly, taking your hand into hers, “we can travel all around the world and stay in fancy hotels; honeymoon suits for just the two of us everywhere we go. I can spoil you and make you mine. I can care for you. I want to.” She was rambling.

She took your silence as a cue to continue on, “I know you just met me and there are so many things you don’t know about me. There are so many things you deserve to know about me. I want to learn about you and let you learn about me.” She talked so quickly that she was having trouble catching her breath.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, “Ally, I can’t.”

You were thinking about Billie.You were thinking about all of the memories you shared. All the moments you shared. The moments filled with hatred, the moments fueled by love, the times you went wild in towns you’d never traveled to before and probably never would again, the words you’d exchanged, the intimate moment where the whole world melted and it was jus the two of you. There were the times you made love, when Billie really took her time worshiping you and your body. Then there were the more rough times, usually fueled by anger or Billie’s raging jealousy. Just an hour ago you couldn't have fathomed the thought of doing any of those things with anyone else. But here you were, possibly going to run away with a woman you’d not even known for a full half hour.

“I have someone and I love her, I really do. She’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted and I can’t possibly betray her. She’s my soulmate.”

"You can't. Not if it's not me. I want you...I crave you...I need you." Ally’s voice was weak and she looked like she was ready to cry. Her chest heaved as she spoke, her voice wavering. "Please."

Your eyes locked with her, lip quivering as you a pressure in your chest.

A voice broke the two of you from your staring contest, "What the hell is going on here?" You could see Ally’s jaw lock as she turned towards the woman. "What do you want, Howard?" Ally moved between you and Billie, squaring her shoulders.

"I want what you took from me." Billie furrowed her eyebrows, training her eyes on you. You started to panic; on one hand you wanted to leave with Ally. Because you were attracted to her the moment you started talking. You couldn’t explain it, like you had known her forever and you were only catching up. It was like those cliché movies with the high-school sweethearts that loose touch and then reconnect. But on the other hand, you had been with Billie for so long and you loved her with your whole heart. You loved Billie so much it scared you. Billie was the type of first love that never went away. So you just stood there, looking between the two in agony.

"I haven't taken shit from you." Ally huffed, her eyes shooting daggers at the three girls in front of her. Misty and Cordelia stood tall at Billie’s sides, their eyes fixated on Ally.

Ally’s eyes flickered to you then back at Ally and you could see Ally tense even more. As Ally turned around, you could see the tears starting to pool in her eyes. "She's your..." Ally let out a deep sigh as you nodded.

Ally was sure you could hear her heart breaking in her chest. "Darling, come here." Billie said gently, motioning you to come to her. You hesitated for a second before slowly making her way over to her. You could just barely feel Ally’s hand brush against her wrist.

Billie quickly pulled you into her arms with a tight squeeze, "Thank God, you’re okay.” She breathed into your hair. You nuzzled your face in Billie’s neck and let the tears fall.

You had chosen Billie, you had chosen your home. You knew that, even if you had left with Ally, Billie would always be on your mind. You were in love.

The sound of Ally’s car pulling away caused both of you to let out a breath. Billie pressed your lips together before the sound of rapid footsteps and policemen shouting broke your moment. Billie pulled away, her face breaking into a wicked grin. "Run."

Taglist: @mssallymckenna , @proudnlittle , @coxmicbabygirl , @sapphicpaulsxn , @its-soph-xx , @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k , @paulsonix , @madamevirgo , @saucy-sapphic , @kikaykimkim , @billiedeansbottom

[muffinlance]

what would you say is the most important thing about writing, and are there any tips you'd be willing to share?

In the order I thought of them, which might or might not reflect their significance to me or you:

Write a fuck ton. And do it as close to daily as possible. You get better at this by doing it more, just like every other skill. Writing isn't any more magical than carpentry: show up, do it a lot, and you'll improve.

Writer's block is either you being lazy/scared to write and Ruin Everything or your subconscious telling you there's an Actual Problem with your story. Learn to differentiate the two. Writer's block in the form of "oh I haven't written forever because my ethereal muse won't inspire me" is generally the former; stop being an ass to yourself and sit down. BIC = Butt In Chair = one of the most common acronyms you'll find on writer's forums.

Critique Circle (no fanfic allowed, sorry)

The Absolute Write Water Cooler (no fanfic, and STAY THE HELL AWAY if you're not ready for serious publishing, these people talk real talk and that broke me for a bit as a newb who Wasn't Ready For This Level of Publishing Reality.)

Setting a timer to write was super useful for me when I was still trying to establish good habits. 45 minutes BIC, and no going off on that 30 minute research tangent doesn't count, no internet no research no distractions just WRITE.

I really really suck at the "no distractions, just write". System that works well for me when I need to kiddie lock myself to the chair: use phone for typing. Set it up just out of reach and use a Bluetooth keyboard. At this point I've typed like two novels using this method. Requires a good phone that doesn't crash when your Google doc gets too big though, RIP my last phone.

Google docs are your friend. Autosave and available everywhere.

I'm going to find and murder the person who decided Google docs should use some kind of neural network predictive shit for its spell check instead of comparing to an actual dictionary file. Beware REALLY BIZARRE typos slipping through. Turning on grammar check catches most of these. I will not murder the person who added that.

Backup copies of your stories. Regularly. For Serious Face writing, I typically have the main doc on GDrive, and download a .rft copy to my local hard drive any day I make sizable progress/edits. Title the file with the date (year-month-day, ie 2019-11-08, so that the files sort nicely by name), and a brief recap of what you changed. Ie: 2019-11-08 Story Title Here added ch 3 deleted wererabbits". Then if you are looking for the wererabbits scene because why did you delete that it was AWESOME, you know you just need to load up the doc before. Version control bitches, it's not just for Com Sci. I also backup my backups monthly to two different flash drives, because you can NEVER BE PARANOID ENOUGH.

Pay attention to what you like/dislike in other stories, especially things that grab you and make you want to read through the night (or make you go 'eh, this was fun to read, but not great'). Suss out WHY. Incorporate into your style appropriately.

Critique other people's stories, especially finished ones in your genre and word count. Pre-published works are a treasure trove of almost-there-but-not-quite that really helps you practice #10. Figure out how YOU would fix things, if it were your novel. Figure out three to four ways you could fix it. One suggestion can come off as imposing your opinion on the person you're betaing for, and is a no-no. A bulleted list is helping them brainstorm and they will love you and want to wed into your family. Critiquing helps the other writer a little, and helps you a fuck ton more. Crit. Lots. (As time allows, and generally when you have a work that needs critting back, because crit partners can and will disappear on you.)

Fuck fear, get your writing out there. At the very least you'll learn what not to do next time. This especially applies to the fun that is the querying process. Related note: that short story I just got published in a major mag? I sat on that for like year before I tried sending it anywhere because I had a nebulous fear of Not Being Good Enough. Fuck that shit, shove your terrible writing at people and let THEM decide if there's anything to love in it. Especially in fanfiction, where the stakes are so low, and it's generally not the well-written stories but the most compelling that get attention.

You'll probably never grow out of the "my writing is terrible" thing. I have literally never heard of an author who has. You just learn to deal with it better as you get more and more positive feedback (and the feedback WILL get more positive if you're conscientiously writing lots with the improvement of your craft in mind.) I know on an intellectual level that I'm writing at a pro level 'cause people have literally paid me pro-level monies for it, but I'm still Super Nervous anytime I start a new plot arc because What If This One Sucks.

Corollary: Sometimes you will inexplicably want to take your latest story to the bathtub and drown it even though there's nothing objectively wrong with it. Take a big step back and work on something else for awhile. You are going to do nothing but mangle your story until you are out of that mood.

Having multiple projects helps you to have a different Favorite Child so you can avoid murdering your other children and still be productive.

Find something outside of writing that is good stress relief + healthy, because This Is Stressful. If you're being serious about it, you're probably treating it like a part-time job. Jobs are stressful. Writing is no exception. Walking/jogging pairs well with general Think Time, I've found.

Think Time is real. Think Time is that thing where you aren't actively thinking of the story and then three days later you suddenly have the solution to that plot problem. As long as you're actively engaging with your craft, there is a part of your brain that will be working on things in the background for you. Thank you, semi-automated brain subprocesses!

Don't use Think Time as an excuse not to write, you lazy ass. Put a GERBIL in your outline and come back to it, go write the next scene.

My outlines include addressing myself directly, swearing at myself, and using the word GERBIL as a marker for things that need fixing. These are optional but enjoyable. (And also the reason none of my characters will ever have a GERBIL as a pet, because then I couldn't use it as an easy Ctrl+F keyword.)

My dinner is cold so this list is done.