#welcome to my unsolicited opinions

[soleius]

🌷 astro observation I;

helos and welcome to my first post of many astro observations ;w;

this has been sitting in my drafts FOR AWHILE and thought i might as well just post them

ofc this is for pure entertainment, however pls feel free to refute a point or further dive into one if something resonates

i’ll happily discuss 💫

enjoy loves 💞

i often see virgo placements having stomach issues but has anyone ever talked about gemini’s and their stomach issues?

to my scorpio moon babies, how bad were your cramps growing up? i remember having nights where i’d be rolling in bed and contorting in any position to ease the pain of them

leo moons are ones with lion mane like hair— big in appearance and in most cases really thick

libra in big 3, specifically libra risings are often close to their parents or will try their best to maintain a good relationship to them— even if it means having to make sacrifices on their end

aries mars you guys do thorough research when it comes to finding the best of anything especially when it involves spending money

sagittarius in big three makes you an effortlessly entertaining story teller

your mars sign could indicate what type of driver you are on the road

1st house aquarius/uranus placements often do something different from the rest, theres a need to stand out and often not it manifests in unique approaches and creativity

7th house stelliums are (if not absolutely) hyper-dependent when it comes to relationships, and it doesn’t have to be romantic ones. theres a deep desire to be close with at least one person they know they can trust and rely on with everything whether its a friend, partner, or family member.

neptune 1st house (depending how its aspected) can struggle with self, whether it’s identity or self-image

something i’ve noticed when it comes to libra placements in your big 6 is that they dont give out unsolicited advice unless if asked for their honest thoughts and opinions

next / latest

© soleius 2023

[digitalgirlguide]

dearest reader,

you are cordially invited to become a member of the court by signing up for the digital girl guide here

what is the digital girl guide?

The inspiration behind starting this guide is deeply personal for me. I wanted to create a digital magazine that looked like the magazines i used to buy at the cash register whenever my mom took me out with her to buy groceries.

i wanted to find a way to combine my love for giving unsolicited advice, my opinions on marketing, and live up to that dream of being a magazine column write just like the girls in the romcoms i love so much. and its a bonus i get connect with my girly and creative side again. ♡

every month on the 7th i send out a new digital girl guide filled with my takes on internet hot topics, marketing trends and sometimes i even throw in my current faves in music or skincare.

this month i discuss:

what the $%@^ is going on in Sephora? - The 10 year olds in Sephora saga

the great water bottle debate (stanley vs. hydroflask) - and what that means for brand loyalty

the revival of the tumblr it girl - and what that means for content creators

+ a valentines day gift guide etc.,

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

i hope you enjoy this month's read and welcome to my little pink corner of the internet .•° ✿ °•.

[nifolution]

I Quit Masterlist

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale / Reader

Summary: Ransom takes a special interest in Harlan’s new private chef

Warnings: some smut, some angst, noncon touching, dubcon oral, harassment, sexual harassment, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, recreational drug use, unsolicited dick pic/video, being drugged, undressed and tied up, bribery, breaking and entering, arguments, threats, dry humping, masturbation, a bit of somno

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. Reader is said to have a facial piercing, your choice where. Takes place mid-November 2013. About 5 years before the movie. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.  

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (End)

[niffala]

I Quit Masterlist

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale / OFC (Elizabeth)

Summary: Ransom takes a special interest in Harlan’s new private chef

Warnings: some smut, some angst, noncon touching, dubcon oral, harassment, sexual harassment, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, recreational drug use, unsolicited dick pic/video, being drugged, undressed and tied up, bribery, breaking and entering, arguments, threats, dry humping, masturbation, a bit of somno

A/N: Reader insert version found here. Takes place mid-November 2013. About five years before the movie. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in Italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (End)

[thecaffeinebookwarrior]

Tbh I'm at a point where I think everyone should write whatever they want forever and we shouldn't worry about Mary Sues. Who cares, let's have fun in the sandbox

I agree, everyone should write what they want! It is ultimately an act of passion, and everyone has total creative liberty over what they produce.

However, not all writing is intended to be interacted with the same way.

A work of fanfiction or an original story that someone shares for free is different, for example, than a book you have to buy or a film you have to pay to watch. The purpose of reviews for products are not just to support the author, but to guide other prospective readers and viewers about how they'll spend their money and time.

As an author, there's also a difference between a hobbyist and a professional. I'm both! I write for fun, and I've published writing for money. I also have an MFA in Creative Writing.

I would consider it rude if someone offered unsolicited criticism of writing or art I made available for free, but when a paying publisher accepts my stories, I expect them to offer edits to make it as good as it can be for the consumption of the public.

Similarly, if I were in a critique session with my MFA peers, I'd be annoyed if they told me to just have fun without offering any other feedback. As you can see, the context changes whether writing is appropriate to criticize, and whether criticisms should be expected.

Hollywood studios should also be held to an especially high standard, I think, because of the amount of money that is channeled into funding their films, and the amount of money they charge from the public.

Now, about the term Mary Sue.

Many already know that "Mary Sue" is a satirical term, originating in a parody fanfiction from a Star Trek fan magazine, and I don't think it was ever meant to be treated as a serious literary criticism. There's also a male equivalent - the Gary Stu - but it's seldom used, and the term remains disproportionately geared towards female characters.

I don't dislike characters because they're "Mary Sues," I dislike characters because they're poorly written. And I have a pet peeve when a portion of the internet reactively claims a character is well-written simply to defend them from accusations of being a Mary Sue.

Again, this is usually in regards to big budget Hollywood movies or shows, like Captain Marvel, the 2016 Ghostbusters, She-Hulk, or what have you. The criticisms against these movies were often bad, and came from misogynistic viewpoints - but that doesn't mean these movies and shows are good. And I would have been doing myself a disservice if I overlooked their flaws simply because misogynists also didn't like them.

I think Hollywood studios often hide behind superficially strong female characters to shield themselves from criticism, and avoid having to write female characters who are actually original, complex, and interesting.

(Again, this is all just my opinion. Anyone is welcome to like the above properties! I like tons of things that could be considered questionable.)

So, to conclude: yes, everyone deserves to have fun with writing! It is usually inappropriate and rude to offer unsolicited criticism of art that is available for free. But Hollywood films and traditionally published writing that we pay money to access are not the same as free art that's shared only for passion and fun.

And last but not least, calling a character a Mary Sue is usually a stupid criticism, but not every character who is accused of being a Mary Sue is a good character!

Just my thoughts on the matter, which I'm obviously more than eager to babble about for a good half hour.

[st0rmyskies]

Good morning.

Please consider this your formal reminder that fan creators do this shit for free, in our spare time, and are under no obligation to cater to you in any way.

Period.

Creators make mistakes, seeing as they are human. English isn't everyone's first language. Even for those who have studied writing, typos happen. People writing on their phones and tablets for the simple joy of writing are going to fall prey to autocorrect. I edit everything multiple times before posting and I still find mistakes on rereads, because after a while all those goddamn words just blend together.

Unsolicited writing advice, even in the form of pointing out typos, is never welcome. Ever. Unless you are Sister-fucking-Roberta risen from the grave to come beat my third grade ass in a dream every time I start a sentence with the word "and," your 'helpful feedback' is nothing but insulting. Some of us have beta readers for that sort of thing. And if you aren't a beta reader designated by the particular creator in question, do me a favor: sit on your hands and keep your opinions to yourself.

I know it's hard. But I believe in you.

[luaspersona]

Who are your favourite Bangtan writers on Tumblr? I’m fairly new here but based on your reviews, I trust your opinion implicitly 😅

first of all, welcome! here, have some flowers 💐

second of all, thank you! i love reviewing, so it means a lot when people trust my opinions lol 

ok, so. before we get into the blogs, since you’re new, i thought of giving some unsolicited advice that might help improve your overall experience as a reader here! i'll put them under the cut, and the blogs at the bottom ♡

⇢ follow bts networks (you can start through mine)! they reblog authors from their communities and you’ll get to know blogs that you wouldn’t come across otherwise;

⇢ in order to actually see what the blogs you follow post, and to not be done dirty by dumblr’s algorithm, go to your blog settings > dashboard > preferences and switch off the “best stuff first” option, because its point is to give visibility to posts that already have more notes and stuff, and you lose a lot of good works in the process:

⇢ if you’re +18 (which i’m assuming you are, since you’re interacting with me), tumblr has been hiding some smutty content as of default and limiting the reach of the posts, so to not miss any good works, go to blog settings > account > contents you see and mark “show” in the community labels you feel comfortable seeing:

⇢ last tip: if you enjoy these authors and you’re comfortable here, please consider reblogging! maybe reaching out through anon like you did now to tell them how much their work meant to you. tumblr’s not really a good platform for writers and the engagement is what keeps us going, so — if you’re ok to do so — please, share some thots ♡

ok, now onto the blogs 👏🏽 i’m sorry i can’t shut up

although it’s long, this is by no means an exhaustive list, but i tried to include all the authors i’ve read and loved (without exceeding tumblr's tagging limit), so i just know that you’ll enjoy anything from them!

@kithtaehyung, @suga-kookiemonster, @eoieopda, @here2bbtstrash, @uarmymoonlight, @taegularities, @vsualitae, @the-boy-meets-evil, @pjmparadise, @persphonesorchid, @noteguk, @yeoldontknow, @kpopfanfictrash, @vyduan, @yoongiphoria, @moccahobi, @sailoryooons, @xjoonchildx, @jjkeverlast, @minisugakoobies, @bangtanintotheroom, @jimilter, @ugh-yoongi, @chryblossomjjk, @chateautae, @magicshopaholic, @hot-soop, @yoon-kooks, @nabiolive, @casuallyimagining, @euphoricfilter, @jeonqkooks, @rkivian, @m-yg93, @daechwitatamic, @gimmethatagustd, @bratkook, @augustbutwinter, @matchy6812, @kookdiaries, @kth1fics, @here4btsfics, @yoongimingyu, @aquagustd, @snackhobi, @ppersonna, @sugalaritae, @jeonjcngkook, @sugakookitty, @baljinciaga, and i wanna shamelessly recommend myself too 👉🏽👈🏽

(if you’re tagged here and i haven’t reviewed any of your works yet, worry not, for i’m coming 🏃🏽‍♀️)

you can also check my reviews tag or my recs lists for more recs, but anyway *sighs* that's a lot more than you asked for, but i hope you enjoy your time here and have fun with these amazing authors 🫶🏽

[miss-rileys-blog]

Introduction Post

(This is a kink blog specifically focused on misgendering and detransitioning. Please do not interact if you’re a minor or if those kinks make you uncomfortable.)

Hi!! My real name is Riley!

Please only use she/her pronouns for me!!

I’m a bisexual, biological woman who tried to pretend to be a man. Luckily, I was fixed by my therapist! She helped me to realize it was silly of try to deny I was a woman. Only women have pussies and tits after all!

I love being reminded of what I truly am and what my purpose is!

I’m monogamous and taken, so please don’t flirt or be sexual with me in DMs. However, other fakeboys are welcome to message so we can talk about how to be better girls!

My asks are open! You’re welcome to send me porn suggestions in DMs or asks, preferably something that will help me solidify my identity as a woman! :)

Also, if your account is empty and looks suspicious, I will likely block you! Sorry!

Yes: Misgendering, Detransition, Transphobia, Monster Fucking, Objectification, Misogyny, Degradation, Feminization/Forced Feminization, Breeding, Bondage, Chastity, Consensual Non-Consent

No: Raceplay, Ageplay, Bestiality, Incest/Fauxcest, Unsolicited Nudes, Actual Detransition, Scat, Piss

I will not send nudes nor am I interested in receiving them (aside from porn recommendations)!

*** (Nothing expressed here reflects my actual opinions and views. I 100% believe in trans rights and expression of gender. My therapist did not actually try to detransition me; that statement is in reference to a roleplay my partner and I indulge in. I am 2 years on T, and I absolutely don’t plan on stopping. I love being a man; this is solely for sexual pleasure.) ***

[kedreeva]

Reading and loving second first chances! I just wanted to mention, in case you hadn't thought of it; I don't think Steve and Eddie would have used the "@" symbol as code in the 80s as it was a purely obscure scientific thing until the email, which was not widely used until about 10 years later. Just something I noticed. Thanks again for the story! 😊

This is not an appropriate message to send to a fanfic writer without solicitation first. If you're unsure why, please visit my /commenting tag for my opinions on unsolicited critique on fanfiction.

As such, you are not welcome for the story. It was clearly not written for you. Please excuse yourself from ever reading it again. While you're at it, get off my other stories until you learn some goddamn manners.

[fairy-switchblade]

💋 Welcome to My Blog 💋

Get to know me:

My name is Niamh, pronounced “Nee-v”

25 years old

I am white

I use she/her/they pronouns

High Femme

I speak English, and roundabout A2 Italian

vintage enthusiast. Vintage style, not Vintage values

kink positive

I am a psychotherapy student, my areas of interest are the creative therapies, anger management and trauma processing. The opinions I express on mental health will be grounded in theory, and/or my practical experience. However they are not the opinions of a licensed practitioner, please keep that in mind.

Get to know my content:

warning: butch/femme, femme4butch and vice versa, trauma, stone identity, and NSFW content will all be shown here.

I post butch/femme community content, including art, articles, advice, questions, etc. I particularly post content aimed at femmes though of course, butches are always welcome.

I boost other members of the butch/femme community and their content

I sometimes post 18+ content, tagged as ‘NSFW’ This includes fantasies, confessions, anecdotes, artworks, and advice. Milder sexy content is tagged ‘smexy’

Respectfully:

I do not want to see or hear about anything to do with dd/lg, or mm/lb

do not send me sexual images, of any kind

Xenophobia will get you blocked and reported- racism, homophobia, transphobia etc.

We will not tolerate sexual harassment here. The unsolicited sexual objectification of butches or femmes, or the butch femme dynamic will also get you blocked and reported.

[crochetingcatwriting]

Nop, just no.

Private bookmarks are the reader's space. The public ones are a community space and as that are ruled by the same etiquette than comments.

Public bookmarks are attached to the writers work, they are PUBLIC so saying they are off limits for authors is insane and wildly entitled.

If you want to put a note for yourself as a reader you have the private option to do so in bookmarks, the author who wrote for free the piece of fiction you decided to note it was "boring but is my OTP", "sucks, too slow" or anything else you wanted honestly declare, doesn't need to know it.

And while some authors do welcome concrit none of the examples on that twitter are concrit, just an entitled rude opinion.

Unsolicited concrit (not that it could be called concrit) is rude, no matter if it is in the comments or the PUBLIC bookmarks. So, if you want to bookmark something and you don't want it to be public you just need to check the private bookmark option:

Fanfiction writers publish their works for free, don't be a dick to them.

[nifolution]

I Quit 6

Warnings: noncon touching, harassment, sexual harassment, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, unsolicited dick pic/video, bribery, breaking and entering, arguments, a bit of somno

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 5 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

Y/N couldn't stop herself from looking out the window every few minutes. Large chunky flakes of snow slowly fell, covering everything in a fluffy white blanket. It was beautiful. The fireplaces in the manor were lit, making the house smell a little smoky and almost sweet. If she was quiet, she could hear the crackling of the burning wood. It was so calming, homey. She could pretend she was still in her pjs, warm mug in her hands, watching nature’s display without a care in the world.

The crash of the front door being forcibly opened disturbed the serene atmosphere. Followed by someone stamping their boots and swearing. Making everyone aware of his distaste for the road conditions and what the weather was doing to his new car.

Ugh, he’s back.

A few minutes later, she felt Ransom standing behind her. Tingles ran up her arms as she inhaled his intoxicating scent mixed with the winter chill still clinging to his skin. Y/N knew too much of his body at this point. Since his vacation, he continued to send daily dick pics and explicit messages. Relentless in his attempted seduction. Yet she hadn't blocked him yet. A twisted part of her wanting to know what he'd do next. How far he'd go before he gave up. Or maybe how long before she’d give in.

Ransom stood next to her at the window. Slowly sliding his hand into her back pocket, squeezing her rear possessively. If someone were to walk in, they would look like a cute couple admiring the scenery. As far as he was concerned, that was exactly what they were. “Did you like the flowers?”

“Burglars don’t usually leave gifts. So I threw them in the trash. Why don’t you do the world a favor and throw yourself in there too.”

“That’s not very nice,” he chastised. “It was only a little B&E. No malicious intent. Barely even a crime.”

Y/N scoffed and turned to walk away from him. His next words stopped her in her tracks.

“I wanted to thank you for the gift you left for me.” Ransom cackled when her confused face turned back to him. He pulled his prize out of his front pocket. “It was just too cute, I couldn't resist.”

Her face burned seeing her pink bunny thong swinging from his finger. She attempted to snatch them from him, which he dodged. He then mockingly held the material above her head, making her jump for them. Laughing each time he moved them just out of her reach.

Giving up, Y/N threw up her arms, telling him to keep them. She wouldn't want them back after his nasty hands have been on them anyway.

His eyebrow quirked, “Not just my hands.” He stuffed the thong back into his pants. Completely changing the topic, he asked her what she was making tonight.

“Chicken with honey garlic pan sauce and steamed green beans.” She crossed her arms, waiting for his scathing remarks.

“Pssh, what are you burned out already?” Ransom opened the fridge, “No appy? And what is this, chocolate mousse for dessert?” Clicking his tongue, he slammed the fridge closed, rattling its contents. “Unacceptable. I won't eat it. I want lobster tail.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his demand, returning to her duty at the stovetop. “We don’t have any. I only planned on cooking for Harlan tonight. If you want lobster so badly, you can see yourself to the store, or suck it up and have chicken.” She added the prepared poultry to the hot skillet.

He scrunched his nose at the idea. “It’s the helps job to run errands. You really need to be trained properly. Sadly, I don’t have the time right now. I’m late for my date with Tina… Terri? T-something.” He waved off the blunder. “No matter. I doubt we’ll make it past drinks.”

Ransom leaned in to whisper in Y/N’s ear, “I want you to know I’ll be thinking of you the entire time I’m fucking her... It coulda been you.” As he moved away, he swiped at the pan, intent on spilling it and ruining the meal.

Not thinking, her hands darted out to catch it before it fell, burning herself in the process. A stream of hissing and curses leaving her mouth.

“Ouch. Don't be so sloppy, Killer. You may want to put some ice on that.” He swept out of the room and out the front door. Not sparing a minute to greet his grandfather.

 What the fucking fuck? Cannot believe that fucking asshole.

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

The next family dinner came too soon. Y/N felt she would begin having nightmares about the hell that was dealing with the Thrombeys. Their fabulous vacations hadn’t seemed to calm any of them down. The opposite in fact. Seeing as how they spent most of the night screaming at each other.

Linda and Richard were having it out with their son and each other. Walt was picking fights with Richard and Ransom. Donna with Linda and Ransom. Harlan with Walt and Ransom. All spewing the most vile things at their relatives at the top of their lungs. It was chaos.

Little Jacob ignored them all, playing games on his phone. Joni and her daughter were not in attendance, but Harlan’s mother was. The old woman was dressed to the nines. Smartly not participating in any of her family’s bickering.

Ransom snuck away to join Y/N in the kitchen. Looking every bit like the cat who ate the canary. His family quarreling seemed to energize him. He spared no time in flirting with her. Asking her to come home with him. That it would be good for her to have a drink, destress. Promising a full body massage with a happy ending.

“No.”

“Just no? Why, what’s the problem?” He hopped up onto the countertop next to where she was putting the finishing touches on a strawberry cheesecake. “You need to loosen up and I'm offering to help you. I think we'd have a great time.” 

Her voice came out sharp, “Can you please move your ass off my work area?” Y/N already had a headache from the noise. She wanted to finish her job, go home, take a painkiller and go to sleep. Not deal with his frustrating egocentric crap.

He narrowed his eyes at her. Not liking her attitude. Taking out his wallet, he began putting hundred dollar bills down one at a time. “How much is it going to take? Everything and everyone has a price. Let's negotiate.”

Y/N’s eyes moved away from her task, to the pile of cash, then to Ransom. Giving him a half smile, she scooped up the money, folding it in half. She stepped over to stand between his long legs, placing her free hand on his knee before traveling up his thigh. Hooking a finger into his pocket, she shoved the bills inside.

“I’m not for sale. Go back to your country club skanks.”

“I don’t get you. I’m a catch. You should be begging on your knees for someone of my caliber to give you the time of day. I go out of my way for you and you deny me.”

Y/N stepped back, shaking her head at him. “You’ve never worked for anything in your life. You have the world laid at your feet. Money, cars, women. Why don't you go play with one of those things and leave me alone. I’m done putting up with you. You play these mind games and act like a giant toddler when told no. Throwing a tantrum and probably pissing your pants.”

His jaw clenched tight enough to crack a tooth. Y/N was ready to chastise him again, when he suddenly stuck his hand right in the middle of the dessert, ruining it. She gasped as he brought a huge handful to his mouth, taking a bite, before throwing the rest at the closest wall. Some of the mess splattering back at them. 

Ransom jumped down, going over to the sink to wash his hand. He walked out backward, his vicious glare focused on her, “Stupid fucking dyke.”

“That just proves my point, ya know.”

He kicked open the kitchen door, turning to walk back to the table. Unfortunately, she had to follow him. The family were still talking over one another. Harlan's mom sat staring at her wine glass. Y/N had to shout that dessert will be just a few minutes. Doubting anyone even heard her.

Random laughed to himself, proud that he wrecked her hard work and now she was scrambling. He expected the arguments to soon shift to dessert being late. Imagining her in the kitchen, crying and frantically trying to make something new. His grandfather may even want to fire her and he'd gallantly swoop in to her defense. She'd have to go on a date with him if saved her job. Right?

To his shock, she came back out in only five minutes. Setting small glass containers in front of everyone. Crowned with a large strawberry, cut to resemble a rose. They were layered with sliced strawberries, preserves and cheesecake filling. She called them strawberry cheesecake jars. He refused to eat it.

Donna sported a disapproving look on her face, but after noticing the happy faces of her kin, changed her demeanor to match. No one seemed more delighted than Harlan's mom. She gobbled up her dessert so fast, Harlan gave her the one untouched in front of Ransom. She smiled at him, digging into her second helping.

Ransom's lip curled watching his family. His mind on the young chef. Why wasn't she playing his game? It almost felt like he was playing hers. He contemplated how he would make her follow his rules. Get his power back.

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

Saturday night found Y/N putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She had a date planned with a guy she’d been recently seeing, Patrick. They had gone on two dates already and had really hit it off. The conversation flowed and they had a lot of fun together. He was sweet and thoughtful, a romantic. They had similar goals and interests, they clicked. Things seemed to be headed in the right direction.

Hearing the knock on her front door, Y/N ran over, bouncing on her toes as she answered it.

It wasn’t Patrick.

In place of her date, stood Ransom. Wearing an expensive suit with a bouquet of flowers held in front of him. 

“What, no smile? Not happy to see me? You know, it occurs to me that I've never seen you smile. Not once.” He tried to hand over the flowers, but she didn’t take them.

“You don't inspire a smile.”

Undaunted, Ransom told her how hot she looked all dressed up for him. And how he couldn’t wait to see what was underneath.

Y/N gritted her teeth, “It’s not for you. I have a date. Now leave!”

Ransom cocked his head to the side, perplexed. “Why do you resist me so hard? Just give in. Let me have you. I'm a significant upgrade from whatever farm boy you're seeing.” He spun around to give her the full view. “With me, you get to be on the arm of a devastatingly handsome, rich, ivy league grad who can spoil you.”

“That may be more impressive if your family didn't pay your way through. I'm sure my date got better grades than you and he earned them.”

He tried to push his way into her apartment. “Fine, we’ll stay in then. You really need that attitude fucked out of you.”

Y/N blocked him, “I told you, I have plans. Now get out of here before Patrick arrives.”

He barked out a laugh. “Farm boy’s not coming. I paid him off. One hundred bucks. Making this my cheapest date by far.” The mix of surprise and anger on her face made him stiff. “I may not be able to buy you, but I think for an extra two, the guy would’ve sucked my dick. He didn't even think about it, just took the money and ran.”

Seeing red, she shoved him away. Telling him off and slamming the door in his smug face.

Ransom yelled through the door. “No skin off my nose. I’ve got Dorothy on standby. She’ll appreciate being wined and dined by Boston's most eligible bachelor.”

Y/N finished her night sitting on her couch, drinking a bottle of wine and watching trash tv. Wiping the occasional tear from her cheek. Hating every one she shed for that idiot. A hundred bucks, seriously? She thought they had something. Frickin’ waste of time. Grabbing her phone, she blocked Patrick’s number. Forget him.

Why are all men such disappointments?

The next morning, she awoke to texts from Ransom. It started out the same sexual shit as usual, then stating how cute she was when she slept. Her blood froze. Included was a photo of her asleep on the couch, her top pushed up, breasts on full display.

A new message pinged. [I was right. You are sensitive… even in your sleep.]

Her mind blanked. She wasn’t sure what to feel. Alarmed, disturbed, violated, pissed off, and a little turned on. Her brain seemed to short circuit. There were no words, just static.

Chapter 7

[various-things]

I don't want to risk this landing as unsolicited advice or me not reading the room if I add it as a post in the reblog chain to the post that's going around (hi mutual! <3), so I'm going to put this rambling into a post of its own since I still want to share—and I definitely welcome hearing from other folks about how they write Garak or the approaches they take with this sort of thing! But re: writing the layers of Garak's thoughts and actions—what he says vs. what he thinks vs. how true what he thinks is:

Unhelpfully, I don't think I have ever encountered this challenge when writing Garak, but everyone I have seen talking in tags in agreement I think does a lot more writing than me and I admire and respect y'all and your abilities and output a whole lot! That said, I'm trying to think about reasons—other than however my own hyperfixation on said characters and my own variety of autism and ✨vibes✨shake out—for why I don't? (rambling continues below cut, I also may add to this via reblog if more thoughts come to mind later)

One possibility is just that I think I've got it down while I'm actually confidently missing it; I think the layers make it in there but who knows! Also, I have a lot more stuff in my head and in WIP form than actually on ao3. A factor that I do think helps how I relate to characters is that if I make the circumstances specific enough, it tends to really narrow down how they might react? So I think if I'm unsure about what a character might say or do next, a helpful thing is adding more framework in the form of what else might be happening/what might be at stake/etc. Another thing is that for main characters I do generally write the scene while thinking through everyone's POV to some degree (I also have some stuff where I've played around with writing both POVs separately) so I generally have awareness of what they would be thinking at least in broad terms and I think it's a lot easier to write someone lying when I know that. In terms of what lies a character might tell themself, I think that can connect to a character's values—what's important to them, what my understanding of things they need are (broadly and/or in more specific circumstances), what patterns of behavior do I recognize them as having (especially what's supported canonically), is there anything in canon that I've come to know as a strong piece of evidence about their behavior or likely reactions (fears, things they tolerate poorly, ways they've handled similar things in canon, specific comments or actions) that can be taken as something they likely hold strongly/broadly*... also, in terms of big themes or events of the world the character exists in, what are the opinions they hold about those big themes— —and then I think another big piece for me is really sticking to what information they know compared to what I know, also what they know about what the other character knows, their overall impression of the other character. Etc. I'll come back to this if more thoughts come to mind because I like talking about this and I'm also interested in what other people might want to share! *for instance, just to give some examples of this and not really for lying reasons: Julian's feet comment could be taken as having broad/strong implications for his feelings about feet, or not! But it could be. A canonical behavior Garak does on multiple occasions is that when people get into his personal space he typically doesn't shrink back, but sometimes he does a bit, so I might wonder what would contribute to that choice to shrink back (or even what might justify it being an involuntary reaction) or I might choose to stick with the likely outcome of him holding his ground.

[niffala]

I Quit (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale / OFC (Elizabeth)

Summary: Ransom takes a special interest in Harlan's new private chef

Warnings: some smut, noncon touching, dubcon oral, harassment, sexual harassment, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, recreational drug use, unsolicited dick pic/video, being drugged, undressed and tied up, bribery, breaking and entering, arguments, threats, dry humping, masturbation, a bit of somno

A/N: Reader insert version found here. Takes place mid-November 2013. About five years before the movie. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts in italics.  18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist

Chapter 1

Okay, second interview of your career. You bombed the first, but that’s expected. Don’t be nervous, you can do this...

Maybe…

Hopefully.

The passing November foliage helped calm her nerves as the GPS led Elizabeth toward Two Dearborn Drive. The oranges, yellows and reds were mesmerizing.

Driving slowly down the long private road leading to the address, a large manor revealed itself. Menacing in its appearance as it loomed over the surrounding area. Slightly intimidated, a shiver ran up her spine.

“Of course it’s a creepy country mansion. I don’t feel like I'm going to be murdered here at all.” Elizabeth exited her car, sample meal in her arms.

“One sign of a ghost and I'm gone.” She took a deep breath and raised her fist to knock, but the door cracked open before she had the chance to.

She half expected Lurch to answer, but instead it was a brunette woman. Barely visible through the few inches between the door and frame, her suspicious gaze laser focused on Elizabeth. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Elizabeth Meyers. I'm here to interview for the private chef position.”

The woman glanced down at the dishes in her hands then back up to her face, looking unimpressed. “Do you have proof of that claim? ID, resume?”

She blinked a few times trying to gauge if that was a serious request. Judging by the woman’s face, it was. Elizabeth struggled to pull out her license without dropping the food. She handed the documents over.

“Very good.” The woman welcomed her in. After closing the door, her demeanor changed. She turned to Elizabeth, a friendly smile on her face. “Welcome to the home of Harlan Thrombey. Renowned author and owner of Blood Like Wine publishing company,” she beamed with pride. “My name is Fran. Let me give you a quick tour before I show you to his office.”

Fran talked her ear off as she led her around the house of nightmares. Nearly every inch of space was filled with statues, odd figurines, and all manner of curiosities and surely cursed objects. Every room seemed to have its own library. Too many books to count, and not just his own. Elizabeth spotted many first editions from equally famous writers. She wondered if they were signed.

In the back of the house were a couple of german shepherds. Fran explained they were eight months old and still in training. “Lovable to us, but will tear the throat out of our enemies on command,” she reached her hand out, snatching at an imaginary foe.

The woman had quite the imagination. Or at least, Elizabeth hoped that's all it was. They circled around until they arrived at what she assumed was Mr. Thrombey's office.

Fran knocked twice, before opening the door. A kindly looking old man sat behind a cluttered desk. Elizabeth recognized him from the photo on the back of his novels.

Harlan rose and shook her hand, introducing himself.

“It's an honor to meet you, sir. My name is Elizabeth Meyers.”

He gestured to a set of chairs on the other side of his desk, “Lovely to meet you, as well. Please take a seat.”

Her resume and license were handed to him. He dismissed his housekeeper and handed Elizabeth back her identification. “I believe this belongs to you, dear.” His eyes zeroed in on the containers in her hands. “Are those for me?”

“Yes, sir.” She placed them on his desk and prayed he didn't notice how her hand shook. “I have for you a mini beef wellington and a slice of hazelnut and raspberry roulade.”

Harlan eagerly opened the containers. “I missed lunch, so this is perfect timing on your part.” He took a small bite of the appetizer, nodding appreciatively. He began to ask her about herself.

“Well I completed the professional chefs program at The Cambridge School of Culinary Arts in January. I went on to a six month externship at Cedar Valley Resort in Bretton Woods. After that, I had a temp job as a private chef for the Van Doren family. They're usual chef was on maternity leave. And now I am looking for long term employment.”

“That’s all here on your resume. I want to know about the real Elizabeth. What are your dreams? What are your hobbies? Do you read? Are you a fan of my work?”

“I am, actually. I love an intriguing whodunit.” She noticed he  didn't finish the wellington, which worried her. Did he not like it?

His inquisitive eyes studied her, “What is your favorite?”

Coming from the author, himself, this seemed like a loaded question. “I equally love Vulcan’s Den and Nick of Time. I still own copies of both that belonged to my mother.”

“Is this the reason you applied for the position?”

Elizabeth swallowed, but decided to be straight with him. “Yes and no. You see, competition in my field is fierce. It's an uphill battle just to get an interview at a halfway decent restaurant and...”

“And my glowing recommendation will get you through the door,” he finished for her.

She doesn't deny it, “Precisely.”

To her surprise, he grinned at her. “Well I certainly appreciate your honesty. I've had numerous fans posing as chefs, and chefs posing as fans and everything in between.” He takes a bite of the dessert, closing his eyes in bliss. He takes two more large bites, finishing it.

“Normally I would hire someone with more experience, but these,” points to the food, “definitely amped up your resume. My taste buds are simply waltzing. I'd have to be a fool to not hire you.”

“So, I have the job? Truly?”

He laughed, “How can I say no after you found my weakness; rich, absolutely sinful desserts.” He licked his fingers, before wiping them on his handkerchief. “You can start on Monday.” His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, “Desserts, hmm.” He paused to scribble something down.

Elizabeth couldn't see what he wrote. Was it a grade, a note about her, was it for a story? Was her dessert going to end up in his next book? What if he wrote it down as poisoned. The Poisoned Pastry. A story of sweet betrayal. No, no, don't assume. Let the master do his thing.

”Sorry about that. At my age, I have to write things down while they are still fresh or they're pfft gone. I became an octogenarian a week prior.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. Now, back to the job. It will be Monday through Saturday, breakfast, lunch and dinner for just me. Plus the occasional Sunday night meal with my family. Five to ten people, depending. As well as occasional group holiday meals. Of which, you will be notified ahead of time.”

Harlan pointed to the empty containers. “I most definitely want more of what you’ve already made me. However, if my family asks, lie. Got that? My dearest, Linda in particular will be grilling you, so to speak. She worries about my diet, but I’m an old man, just let me enjoy things.”

“Understood, sir.”

He waved his hand, “No need for the formalities unless there is company. Call me Harlan.”

“Thank you, Harlan. I normally go by Liz.”

“I think we are going to get along just fine, Liz.” He stood, walking the few steps to open the door. The brunette woman crouched in the doorway, straightened herself, looking guilty for having been caught eavesdropping.

He chuckled, “Fran here will show you the kitchen. Feel free to make it your own. She will be doing the grocery shopping, so give her your daily list of required items. We have a variety of fridge and pantry staples to start you off.”

“She will also be helping with serving and cleaning up, as needed. For larger events, I will have a catering team come in, but I still would like you to run point.”

“Fran brings me my breakfast and lunch to wherever I happen to be, but dinner is always served at the family table. Speaking of family. I look forward to you meeting them all… Be prepared.”

Elizabeth looked at Harlan, a bit concerned at his tone, “You are making it sound like I'll need to come to work in a suit of armor.”

He shrugged, “Couldn't hurt.”

What the hell did I just sign up for?

Chapter 2

[thesokovianaccords]

(press you to) the pages of my heart

four: "come here. let me fix it."

a steggy friends to lovers au (also on ao3)

They were going to be late. Even for them.

(Though Steve would swear up and down it wasn’t his fault. Peggy would swear that he was lying.)

“It’s basically the same costume, anyway. How are you still not ready?”

“I had to send Tony an angry voice note first,” Steve shouted from his bedroom. “Really, it’s his fault we’ll be late.”

Peggy tapped their new and improved badges against the kitchen table. “Pepper’s a natural redhead. It makes more sense for them to be Mulder and Scully. Also, I somehow managed to make new badges, find realistic neuralyzers, and fix my costume before you tied your tie.”

“Well, I got into an in-depth debate with both of them over who deserved a quote-unquote ‘couple’s costume.’ That ate up some time.” Steve walked out into the living room, his eye roll audible across the apartment. “They both had lots of unsolicited opinions, so you’re welcome for sparing you from that.”

“My hero,” Peggy scoffed, grabbing their drinks and dropping next to Steve on the sofa, as he tied his shoes. “Hopefully the party will still be going when we get there.”

Steve sent her an incredulous look, and they both laughed. “Yes, right, fine. It was impossible to even think that with a straight face.”

“Sometimes I still feel hungover from their 4th of July party.”

“Ah yes, the Steve Rogers Birthday Bash, T-M,” Peggy said, holding up her hands in brackets to showcase the trademark with the aplomb it deserved. And because he always glared at her when she did it.

“Yeah, yeah, hilarious. So funny. I’m dying of laughter.” Steve pushed himself to his feet and pulled Peggy up to hers too. “Are you ready, Agent P?”

“What are you saying, Agent S? Don’t I pass muster?”

He gave her a once-over so quick she might have been insulted, if the warm weight of his gaze hadn’t pinned her in place for those few seconds. Her breath caught for an embarrassing moment as his eyes returned to hers. “You look beautiful. And deadly. Perfect, as always—except your tie is crooked.”

“It is not.” Peggy had no idea whether that was true—Steve’s compliments had thrown her for a loop, and recalibrating herself to focus on what he was actually saying was taking longer than it normally did.

He set their glasses on the coffee table and pulled her to their entryway. “Would I lie to you?”

“Yes,” she retorted, but unfortunately her tie was, in fact, listing to one side. “I swear I had it sorted—it must have gotten bored waiting for you to be ready too and decided to relax.”

Steve snorted as she loosened the knot and began to loop the fabric over itself again, but no retort came. He just watched her hands in the mirror as she pulled the long end of the tie through and tightened the knot. But once again, it hung slightly off to the side, and she groaned at her reflection. “These things are bloody impossible. I don’t know how you wear them every day.”

“It just means I have a lot of practice. Come here,” he said, dropping his hands to her shoulders and spinning her around. “Let me fix it.”

Peggy considered the possibility, with Steve’s knuckles brushing against her neck as he re-knotted her black tie, that she was dreaming. Or that she had taken complete leave of her senses. She and Steve were so often in sync—and naturally so, without any conscious thought behind it—that when they weren’t, when they seemed to be in the midst of wildly diverging experiences of the same event, Peggy felt unmoored. Speechless, even. How else could she explain Steve’s efficiency, his apparent immoveabiity, while she was left breathless at the sweep of his hands across her collar? And how was she meant to deal with this new reality, the one where she and her best friend were horribly, perhaps permanently, out of sync, and one wrong word or move could tear everything down?

Steve, oblivious to Peggy’s personal crisis, stepped back and placed his hands on her shoulders again. “There,” he said, a soft smile on his face. “Perfect. As always.”

Peggy placed a hand over the knot and cleared her throat. “As are you, Steve,” she said, relieved her voice stayed steady. “Now, let’s go save the universe. With tequila shots, preferably.”

He laughed and ran his hands down her arms, before taking a single step back. “Yes, ma’am.”

[manicpixiefelix]

if you see me being a bitch on AO3 when someone talks shit in my comments, it's because I am a bitch. You come into my house unsolicited, and complain about the colour I chose to paint the walls to my face, calling my taste ugly and childish instead of walking out without making a scene or leaving a comment? You have free will. You're not paid for your opinion, sure, but I built this shit with my own two hands because I fucking love this movie. This is My House.

Talk shit, get hit.

(it's literally only been two guests on AO3 tho lol, I am full of so so so much love for all the kind comments and messages I get from all of you on my fics, I love you guys, if you have GENUINELY constructive criticism (not 'i didn't like where the story went so it frustrated me and aggrivated me and I couldn't finish it') I do genuinely welcome it with open arms and an open mind ❤️)