#you can guarantee that every time i watch or read something that makes me think im like wow this reminds me of

[twoheadedoddity]

bitches will compare any well-written, heart-wrenching, thought-provoking piece of media to His Dark Materials. (i am bitches)

[thewordypeach]

Milk

Milk (Cream)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 3.3k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, fingering, slight orgasm count, oral fixation??, titty sucking (lactation kink), fingering, implied breeding kink?!? summary: Joel doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done. author's note: i should be studying for my finals next week but joel miller sucking titties is obviously more important, and i just couldn't help myself! i just had to write it!!! the result? it's hot. maybe too hot - can you handle it? i know i couldn't. xoxo the wordy peach <3

“Only nine weeks left!” Ellie says excitedly, peering at your protruding stomach with wide eyes of wonderment. She can’t wait to meet her little sister or brother, and each week since announcing your pregnancy, Ellie crosses off a week in her little calendar. 

Fondly, you smile at her. She’s been your saving grace during this pregnancy - distracting you with every question possible. She even managed to get it out of you when you and Joel convinced the damn thing (“It was that night at the stables, wasn’t it?”)

“Nine weeks,” She repeats with a confident nod; she glances at you, a single eyebrow raised, “Have you looked at the list of names I gave you?”

You let out a chuckle, nodding, “Yes, Ellie - I look at it every night,”

Her eyes widen, “Every night?”

“Every damn night,” Joel grumbles as he walks into the room. He’s exhausted from the extra shifts he’s been putting in because he wants time off for the baby. With tired, bleary eyes, Joel looks at Ellie, “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

She glares at him, points directly at your belly, and speaks with conviction, “Well, technically, I am in health class, and if I have to learn about procreation, Joel, I want her to teach me,"

Exasperated, Joel sighs. He shakes his head with frustration, and briefly, you can see the hint of annoyance on his tired face. He looks at Ellie with his eyebrows knitted together - she knows better than to argue with him. She purses her lips into a thin line and begins gathering school supplies. Ellie ignores Joel and starts idly chatting about her day and her plans.

She’s looking forward to the new reading assignment and asking if you’ll help her later with something. You rub your belly and nod, “Of course, Ellie - you know where I’ll be,”

A flicker of concern mixed with panic crosses her face. She glances at you; you know she’s asking if you’ll really be here when she returns. Ellie confirms, a slight wavering in her voice, “You’ll be here, right?” 

You feel a pang of empathy for her. The world you live in is uncertain - even here, in Jackson, there’s no guarantee of safety. You understand her fear, and reassuringly, you tell her, “Yes, Ellie - I’ll be home all day,”

She nods, and her shoulder’s visibly relax at your confirmation. But before leaving, Ellie just has to turn to Joel and says, “She isn’t feeling good today, so don’t be a dick - or else I will know, and you’ll have to deal with me,” 

As Joel sips his water, Ellie shoots him a stern look. Despite what your partner likes to think, you both know Ellie is in charge. Her gaze holds a silent warning, and you stifle a chuckle, watching as she finally leaves the house. Once the door is closed, silence falls between you and Joel. It’s tense; his eyes penetrate you, noting your skin's paleness and its sickly sheen of sweat. Usually you’re glowing -

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks in that demanding tone of his. 

You sigh, shaking your head, “It’s nothing,”

“Babe,” Joel warns, and you hear him shuffling over before the chair next to you pulls out, and he’s sitting there. He places a hand on your thigh and repeats his question more gently this time. 

“I’m…” You think about the right words, carefully selecting them, “Uncomfortable,”

Confessing this to your partner is almost embarrassing. Maybe it’s his rough exterior that makes you feel like this. Joel, who is waiting patiently, peers at you. His eyes soften, and he looks at you with such tenderness. You’ve been missing these moments because he’s never home anymore. 

He presses, “C’mon, darlin'… tell me what’s wrong,”

Your cheeks flush pink, and after a minute or two, you admit: “My boobs hurt,”

Joel gives you an incredulous look, and his cheeks blush too. His gaze turns to your breasts - even he can’t deny how much they’ve grown in the past few weeks. Joel knows they’re swollen with milk for the incoming baby, but he doesn’t understand how uncomfortable you are. He probably never will because, biologically, he’s a man.

He watches as you reach up, adjusting your tits, groaning out a slew of complaints: “My nipples are so fucking sensitive and hard all the goddamn time! I feel like I’m in that stupid Austin Power movie with the fembots and their machine gun titties,” Joel knows the movie you are referring to, and he can’t help but chuckle and hearing this makes your eyes narrow at him. 

“Are you seriously fucking laughing at me, Joel?” Your voice is emotional, and you attempt to stand, but it’s useless. Your stupid round belly makes it impossible to do anything, and sadness floods your hormonal body. You whine, “I am so fat -”

Joel shakes his head, watching as your face goes through several emotions simultaneously. There’s not much he can do, but he does reassure you that you are not fat - “You are pregnant,”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” You grumble, arms crossing over your chest. You wince because you’re nipples feel like they’re on fire, and you feel like they’re about to burst at any second. You wiggle uncomfortably and pout at Joel. He’s thinking of ways to help and can only think of a single thing that might help but is hesitant about bringing it up. 

“What if…” He trails off, swallowing the dry lump growing in his throat, “What if I help… relieve some of that pressure?” 

Your eyebrows furrow together, confused. “How?” 

“Umm,” He glances around. He knows it’s just the two of you, but he wants to make sure because he’s about to suggest something crazy. His voice drops an octave, suggesting, “I can milk you,”

Your jaw slacks, and you hiss, “Like a cow?”

“N-no!” Joel sputters, hands waving aimlessly around, but it dawns on him it’s exactly like that, and sheepishly, he says: “Okay, yeah… it might be similar to that,” 

“Joel,” Your voice wavers, hot tears swell in your eyes. You feel stupid! And your emotions won’t stop. You know he’s just trying to help, but dammit! Joel just called you a cow - “I can’t believe you think I’m a cow,” 

Joel gives you an apologetic look. He’s sympathetic to your situation; he knows you don’t mean to be this hormonal, and he knows it’s his child doing this to you. He places a hand on your belly and gently rubs the fabric of his stretched-out shirt (the only one that fits!). He leans over, “Darlin’�� you’re not a cow. You’re growing a baby. And I think, from what I read, that your milk ducts need to be expressed,”

“What does that mean? Expressed? Are you going to suck the milk out, Joel?” 

Joel's cheeks redden, and the sultry tone in your voice surprises him. He thinks he has imagined it, but then, Joel sees how your eyes darken into a lustful frequency. He reads your message loud and clear. 

Without hesitation, Joel captures your jaw between his rough fingers and kisses you. It’s sweet. Gentle. Exactly what you need to forget your frustration with him. But of course, you want more. You deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue across Joel’s lower lip and dipping your tongue into his mouth. Ever so slightly, he groans. He loves it when your forward. 

You’re leaning over, as far as you can with your belly, and place your hands onto Joel’s jean-clad thighs. You must hold onto something for balance because your stupid belly messes with your center of gravity. You have yet to get used to it. You’re trying to climb into Joel’s lap, but it’s useless. You’re struggling to lift your body into his, and you pull back, huffing in frustration. 

“This stupid belly!” You mutter while rubbing it. Joel finds your annoyance cute, and despite his best effort, Joel’s cock is already stirring inside his pants. It’s been a while since you two had sex, and today is the day that he’s going to fuck you after weeks of hiatus. 

“Babe, it’s not stupid,” Joel coos and helps you stand. Your belly knocks into his, and it makes him smile. His teeth flash, and the skin by his eyes crinkles with delight. He can’t believe he’s going to be a father again. He can’t wait to meet his little one. But, for now, Joel must give you some relief because it is his fault that you’re in this position. He’s the one who kept pumping his seed into your womb. 

Joel knew the consequences of not using a condom, and here he is - reaping what he sowed. He begins leading you to the bedroom, insisting, “Let me take care of you,” 

“We shouldn’t - I have to meet Maria in an hour, and it’ll take me at least 45 minutes to waddle there,” 

Joel ignores you, pulling your body into the room and shutting the door swiftly behind you. He doesn’t need prying eyes on what he’s about to do. Joel starts by showering your jaw and neck with kisses, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of his shirt before tugging it off. He nearly gasps from seeing your breasts, practically spilling out of the tiny bra that once fit your tits so perfectly. 

You feel Joel devouring your body, noting how his hungry eyes stare at your chest. You mutter, “They’re massive, aren’t they?” 

“They’re perfect, babe,” Joel nods and wraps an arm around your body. With a single finger, he unlatches your bra, and your tits spring free as the garment falls to the ground. A groan of surprise escapes Joel’s throat, and his hard cock strains against his zipper. He marvels at your milky skin, strewn with veins and stretch marks. He reaches and cups them, his fingers ghosting over your nipples, which are a deeper colour than before. Even in these short weeks, your body has made changes he wasn’t even aware of. 

You hiss, “Joel,” but your eyes close because the relief of him holding your breasts has taken the strain off your back. He blows a soft gust at your left side and watches as your face twists into discomfort. 

“Shit, darlin’… are they really that sensitive?” 

You whimper, “Yeah - they’re that sensitive,” 

“If it hurts, tell me to stop,” Joel instructs before he lowers his mouth to your breast. He kisses the skin, and you melt beneath the attention. When Joel swipes his tongue across the rock-hard nipple, you bite back the yelp that threatens to come out and instead focus on how Joel gingerly kneads the pillowy flesh that drapes from your chest. He’s listening to you, waiting for you to tell him to stop. But you don’t. You’re bearing the torment he's putting you through because you know it will feel good at some point. And eventually, it does. 

It’s undeniable: Joel’s hands on your breasts feel amazing, and his warm mouth working on your right nipple is starting to create wetness between your thighs. As his fingers continue, you notice a new sensation in your breast that makes you squirm. At that moment, you feel a release as something emerges from your nipple and shoots into Joel’s mouth. You gasp and watch as he finally yields, pulling away from your body. You see the slightest evidence of white dew on his lower lip, and when you look down at your nipple, it's leaking with the same substance. You are shocked, unsure of what to do. 

“Does that feel better, darlin’?” Joel hums. Hastily, you nod and swallow dryly. It does feel better, but you need more relief. 

You gaze at Joel, eyelids cutely fluttering at him. You sheepishly ask, “What about the other side?” 

Joel just smiles and helps you onto the bed. He places two extra pillows behind your back, ensuring you’re comfy before he settles down. He raises his head again, latching his mouth onto your other breast. Once more, the feeling is overwhelming. Almost too much to bear. You grit through the discomfort, relenting to the sensation of Joel’s mouth and hand as he works. Soon enough, another squirt of hidden cream comes forth. 

It has you moaning this time, and you bask in the momentary relief. And instead of leaving your breast unattended, your hands thread through Joel’s dishevelled hair, and you keep him there. Breathlessly, you demand, “Don’t stop,” He listens and continues to work your breasts until your moans are frantic and your thighs continuously flex. Your arousal has grown to great heights, and an aching desire radiates in your core for the first time in a long time. 

You reach down, fingers dipping into your sweatpants - again, it’s the only thing that fits - and notice how soaked your panties are. Of course, these days, it's a common occurrence. Pregnancy has your body changing in ways you didn’t even consider. Some of them are shocking, and some of them are annoying. Since the first trimester, the idea of sex repulses you. And it made you feel guilty because you live to please Joel. But your lovely partner doesn’t mind; he’s just been taking longer showers, which has been pissing Ellie off because there’s often no hot water left for her - 

Joel notices your hand sliding into your pants and wants some of that action too. He takes one hand and places it on top of yours. Sharply, you inhale. You love how Joel is guiding your hand to his will. With his skillful touch, it doesn’t take long to reach the peak, turning you into a groaning mess as waves of pleasure swell and roll across your body. You notice how your belly quivers with delight too.

As you descend from the peak, you let Joel go. He lifts his head and wipes his milk-laced mouth before kissing you on the lips. You taste yourself. It’s sweet and creamy, reminding you of something you can’t quite place. As Joel’s tongue explores your mouth, you relish the feeling because it’s been too long. You missed his passion, and you missed him ravishing your body. 

“Joel, I need you,” You whine through kisses as your hands wander up and down his back, attempting to undress him. He moves, and his shirt and pants are on the ground within seconds. With no underwear in sight, your eyes lock onto his dick, hanging freely. The presence of it never fails to make you drool. 

Despite his quick movements to undress, Joel takes a slower approach with you and leisurely removes your sweatpants. His hands work with delicate precision, especially when he’s around your stomach. It’s incredibly frustrating for you, and you’re huffing in annoyance. It’s never been like this before. He’s always so rough, taking on a lusty savageness, and Joel would be inside by now. However, he’s still working off your panties. 

“Joel,” You whimper. Your body vibrates with anticipation, and you don’t know how much more you can take. You need his cock, and you don’t care if something goes wrong. Months of built-up horniness are making you reckless. You beg, “Please just fuck me already,” 

His eyes snap to yours. They’re dark with desire. As he places his body between your thighs, he murmurs, “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby,” Joel anticipates your reply - stupid belly - and hushes you before it can come out: “It’s not stupid - it’s love,”

“Love?” You whisper, confused. It’s not common, and Joel has only used it once. Morning sickness took over, and you were throwing up for weeks. Ellie and Joel thought you were dying. And, of course, for a little while, you believed them. It wasn’t until Maria asked when your last period did you clue in. And when you relayed that message to Joel, his grumpy face went unusually slack before joy took over. He swept you into his arms, kissed you, and said: 

“I love you,” He repeats while wrapping a hand around his cock, lowering it to your glistening, swollen exterior. Expertly, he glides the crown of his cock up and down, watching as your juices coat it. You moan because your pussy is so unbelievably sensitive that another climax is blooming in your core. Joel finds himself commenting: “Goddamn… Your cunt is soaking wet,”

You squirm, hips wiggling as you spread your thighs further apart. You hate begging for it, but your cunt yearns for fulfillment. “Please!”

Joel presses his big, round tip against your tight entrance. You bite your lower lip, eyes gazing down at the penetration point, but your belly is in the way. You can’t see what’s happening but don’t have to because you suddenly feel his cock pushing through. At first, your velvet channel is resistant, but that doesn’t deter Joel.

As your walls grip his cock, coating it in a creamy warmth, Joel tosses his head back and sighs with satisfaction. It’s been so long. His hand has nothing on your pussy. Joel delves his cock as deep as possible, and you can feel it practically bulging inside your stomach. And when Joel places his hands on either side of your protruding belly, your impending orgasm rips through.

“Mmm, cumming already,” Your pussy convulses and clenches as a powerful wave of immeasurable pleasure crashes. White, hot flashes across your vision, sweeping you into a moment of intensity. Joel admires as your body undulates beneath him, studying as your belly ripples. He knows the pregnancy is the reason for your quick orgasms, and he wonders how many he can get out before he cums. 

With a mission in mind, Joel lets you come back down before he starts to rock his hips back and forth. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling with a third orgasm. You cry out, hands gripping the sheets below. You barely have time to catch your breath before Joel ups his pace, and he excitedly speers your pussy with youthful energy. 

Hypnotically, Joel watches as your tits bounce with each thrust, and soon enough, his fingers are back on them. He squeezes and kneads until the milk sprays out with a such force that it sprinkles across your chest and coats his hands. A feral growl escapes from your mouth, “Joel,” 

Your vision swirls, and your body shivers with ecstasy as a fourth orgasm rolls through. You gasp, sucking in as much air as you can. You look at Joel, marveling at his skin's sheer layer of sweat. He has a look of concentration on his face, and you know he must be close. You encourage him to cum, repeatedly. 

But before he can, a fifth and final climax hits your body. It has you swearing and calling Joel names, “You fucking bastard,” as your pussy floods and swells around his cock. By this point, there’s a growing puddle beneath your ass, and Joel’s cock is exploring your molten wetness with ease. His flesh claps against yours and echos across the room. His groans are uncontrollable now, and he screws his eyes shut, trying to hold back. 

The effort is futile, and he slams into your body, forgetting about being gentle. A stern look of arousal etches upon his face, and a deep, low guttural grunt spills from his lips. He doesn’t have a chance to warn you because his cock surges with a thick, plentiful rope of his cum, and floods your cunt with a warm stickiness. His hands are back and resting against your belly. Joel juts his hips forward, pushing a second load of cum deep into your cunt. He doesn’t have to worry about getting you pregnant because the damage is already done.

[baeddel]

tirade on pirating software. 1.7k words.

i recently read a post by someone who is anti-piracy (better: against making copies of software). they said that if you can't afford something you should wait for a sale or find a free alternative. and then they said that the only time that they find piracy (better: finding a copy online) acceptable is for games that are so old that you cannot buy them from a licensed vendor, but only from resellers, because in that case the developer doesn't get the money anyway.

i feel like i could make a sort of loophole argument in this framework, which is that i can watch ebay until the game is listed by a reseller, and then pirate it, because i'm no longer making a choice between paying the developer or not paying, but paying a reseller and not paying, and i've decided not paying a reseller is morally permissable.

but i think it can go a little further. they specified developer. i should pay the developer. even though i don't buy directly from the developer, but a licensed vendor. but the vendor's surcharge is not worth bringing up.

this is because we don't believe in following the law, exactly, and thus you should follow all copyright laws for that reason. it's because of, usually, one of two reasons: developers deserve to be compensated, or that we have a moral obligation to support the developer.

on the first view, the "just deserts argument", it's not clear to me that the moral obligation to not pirate is watertight in this case (when i said "pirate" before, i made a silly gesture, meant to indicate that i'll say that for brevity, but am not acquiescing). a developer deserves to be compensated for their work; but what do they deserve exactly?

does every developer deserve to become as rich from their game as Notch, and every time they don't there's been an injustice? you probably don't think that.

do they deserve some particular amount that we would say is 'fair'?—it isn't unjust if they do better (although you might think so, and complain about how much of the spotlight they take up compared to others just as deserving), but we only require that much success of them. this might be dependent on the kind of game that it is, for example, a better game deserves more success. if that's the case, then we've exonerated at least some pirates; so long as the developer is as successful on the market as they deserve to be, we've done nothing wrong.

you might say that it's wrong to pirate games that haven't yet reached the threshold of just success, because you place them in jeoprady of never achieving the success they deserve. further, you might say that this threshold is epistemologically unknowable to human beings (see: click), and therefore in practice you can never justify piracy, because you never know if a game has reached the threshold of justice. pirates, therefore, gamble with justice, and only Minos will pay their winnings.

i think this would be a good argument, except that i don't understand why i, as someone who wants to download a copy of the game, am the one who bears the moral responsibility. if the success of this developer is a matter of justice, then surely we all bear that responsibility, even people who don't play videogames. therefore we should all purchase and promote every game, and so forth.

this isn't what any anti-piracy advocate believes, even if they seem to take a deserts line. instead they restrict our obligations to participating in ordinary market mechanisms. the game is being sold as a commodity; therefore people should buy that commodity from a point of sale apporved by the producer, and so forth. it's taken for granted that the anarchy of the market is the right way to guarantee justice, and other possibilities are never explored. ultimately, the deserts argument naturalizes capitalist relations. once you remove these blinders, the mechanism for delivering justice it actually proposes seems obviously unreliable and unsatisfactory (in fact, i believe this criticism applies to all deserts arguments).

here i will quickly add my complaint against the second argument, that we should support the developer. the argument runs: if you like a developer, you should support their work by purchasing their products. i am a lot more sympathetic to this argument and so i won't spend much of the post attacking it. it's enough to say that it suffers from the same problem we just mentioned: why is participating in ordinary market mechanisms the best way to support the developer? capitalism is likewise naturalized by this case when it is advanced as a moral argument against piracy. therefore we can run the same argument: if we have a moral obligation to support game developers, then it's not clear to me why only potential players have that obligation, and so forth (but this time the criticism doesn't apply to all similar arguments, just this one).

however, it often isn't advanced that way, and as a pragmatic argument i tend to agree with it. in fact sometimes they actually have a case for participating in normal market mechanisms: DMC fans want you to buy DMC games because then Capcom will look at their sales figures and decide it's worth making another game. you could argue that they still have capitalist blinkers on because they only advocate you buy one copy, the one you'll play, which is how the game is sold. maybe they should be asking you to buy a hundred copies or whatever. but we don't want them to do that, LOL. and the feeling is usually that there are limits of what you can ask out of someone; when one DMC youtuber was spending quadruple digits on a DMC-themed gacha, his viewers expressed concern and encouraged him to stop. so cheers to DMC players.

in fact, there might be ethical reasons to only ask someone to purchase a copy of something in the normal way: when i try to get you to buy one of Xraftstar / Charity / Porpentine's games, i am doing it because i personally want my friend to succeed, and i want to see their art recognized. this is a kind of moral motivation, but it's the morality of rendering personal obligations; you are not likewise obligated. however, i of course feel there are limits on what i can ask of you, and so, unlike when i make donation posts for my friends who are struggling, i'm only comfortable encouraging you to purchase a copy of something i think will actually render a use-value to you (even if you could still obtain it in other ways and get the same use-value).

but anyway, why specify the developer in the first place? the work put in by the publisher, the developers and maintainers of the platform its sold on, the bandwidth of the payment processor, and so forth, all get left out of the question, even though they are all more or less necessary parts of the normal market mechanisms we're encouraging you to participate in.

i think it's obvious that the anti-piracy advocate of this kind doesn't actually want to advocate for participation in the market economy, like Bush during the recession. they want to be just by the developer because they see the developer as a fellow individual like themselves; they actually want to cut through the market alienation and simply do right by another person. therefore all of the other capitalists who make money off the sale—publisher, platform, payment processor—are just more big companies, perhaps even leeches we'd be better off without.

it's funny, because historically this view was used to support piracy when it came to music. you used to see a lot of charts like this:

how much of a CD goes to the label, manufacturers and distributors, to show how little really goes to an artist, to shut down people who said you should buy the CD to support them. there's a sort of naive anarchism underlying this: i want to help the individual who made the music i love, who needs manufacturers and distributors anyway?

in this kind of simple moral reasoning, resellers really get shafted. they're seen as scalpers, taking money without producing any value. no one says: 'make sure to support resellers!' thus we never ask who the individual behind all of the market alienation the resller is. whoever they are they don't deserve the money. then, when you are poor and struggling, and cannot afford to buy things for yourself, what do people tell you to do? sell your games, CDs...

but i don't want to be too sarcastic here, because there is nothing funny about this impulse to reach through market alienation and connect morally with another individual. it is the essence of emancipation. but hear my argument: purchasing commodities from them is an unsatisfactory way to realize it. it's true that you can certainly help someone by buying what they sell; many of us rely on this to a greater or lesser extent, and, pragmatically, i hope we'll all buy Nadia Nova's next game and put food in her belly. but systematically, not in this or that case, but as a general moral principle, the commodity form, the exchange of cash for things or copies of things—this is the very thing that reproduces these conditions of alienation in the first place. and these relations—their predictability as a feature of the market, or even their scarcity as a part of a volatile and impermanent system—is what habitually places the developer in a condition of alienation from their labour, coaxing them to give up their so-called intellectual "property", then forbidding them from using the games they made; or by seducing them into placing their music on a platform, then offering them increasingly small margins and less control; or to post their content (qua sex workers) on a paywall platform, which then imposes complex payout structures to keep them from claiming their earnings. and so forth. the desire to reach through all of the noise and support the individual is inevitably captured, redirected, and fed upon in as many ways as it can be, until the whole thing crashes down and the cycle starts again.

therefore, should you purchase or pirate the next game you want to play? Remember Ptahhotep: "The noble who sitteth before food divideth it as his soul moveth him; he giveth unto him that he would favour."

[leonastarry]

Hihi! Can you make a Mafia(secret)!Sung Jin-woo x author!fem!reader? Where the reader is a famous soft hearted author who wrote many kinds of stories which attracted many attention and Jin-woo being one of her fans(in secret) holds a whole collection of her books. He sent his most trusted guards (igris, bellion and beru in human) to watch over her and keep him updated.

He never misses any of her books and is always the one who buys it first (in her official store on online) he doesn’t buy it in person since yeah his a well known mafia in the underground. But on a random Friday, the CEO name Liu Zhigang requested her to work for him as the reader take’s her time to think about it. Thanks to Jin-woo’s connections and wandering guards, he found out about this and immediately made a move, he ordered his men to sabotage Liu Zhigang’s company to keep the reader away from him.

The rest up to you of how they met. Btw his secretly obsessed with her like a yandere

[ Req 18 ] Under the Cover of Pages. ✧. ┊    mafia!jinwoo x author!reader.

The midnight city throbbed with life, its lights casting a light that could not reach the man sitting behind the vast desk. Sung Jinwoo, the most feared mafia boss in the underworld, stared at the books neatly arranged on his bookshelf. Each title belonged to a single author—you.

To others, his works were simply literary masterpieces, filled with intricate plots and heartfelt characters. To Jinwoo, they were a lifeline. Every word he wrote spoke to a part of himself buried beneath layers of power and violence. The softness, the hope—he found himself drawn to the world he created, a stark contrast to the one he ruled.

Jinwoo’s obsession was a secret he kept fiercely close. Even his most trusted men—his shadows—knew better than to doubt his dedication to your work.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Keep her safe,” Jinwoo instructed, his voice cold but firm.

Igris bowed slightly, a graceful and elegant figure. “She remains unaware of our presence, my Liege.”

Beru, always eccentric, sneered. “Her schedule is predictable. She spends most of her time writing at home or going to cafes for inspiration.”

Bellion crossed his arms. “There’s no threat yet, but Liu Zhigang’s offer might change that.”

Jinwoo’s expression darkened. Liu Zhigang was a rival, his influence was immense in the business world, both legal and underground. That man had recently approached you, offering you a lucrative contract to write an exclusive story for his company. Jinwoo couldn't allow that.

Beru's smile widened. "What should we do, my Liege? Teach him a lesson?"

Bellion frowned. "Perhaps we shouldn't overdo it. The Liu family has power, any public move might attract her attention."

Jinwoo's fingers tapped lightly on the polished wood of the desk. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed his determination. "Liu Zhigang is no match for me. No need to be tactful. I guarantee his offer will be rescinded by tomorrow morning."

The shadows bowed and disappeared, leaving Jinwoo alone with his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the latest book you had published, the pages worn from repeated reading.

“I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Liu Zhigang woke up in chaos. His company, known for its dominance in the media and entertainment industry, was suddenly in chaos. Key investors had pulled out, and rumors of internal scandals had tarnished his reputation. Within hours, his offer to you was withdrawn with a hasty apology.

Unaware of the chaos, you read Liu’s message with mixed feelings. There was something about his offer that didn’t feel right, and you felt relieved that you didn’t have to accept it. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you, although you chalked it up to paranoia.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Your favorite coffee shop, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, is your sanctuary. The hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee create the perfect backdrop for your thoughts.

As you scribble in your notebook, a shadow falls across your desk. Looking up, you see a man dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His striking grey eyes gaze at you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“May I sit here?” he asks, his voice soft and deep.

You nod, momentarily speechless.

“I’m Sung Jinwoo,” he introduces himself and holds out his hand.

Your eyes widen in recognition. “The CEO of Ahjin Industries?”

His lips curl into a small smile. “That’s one of my roles.”

As he sits across from you, the atmosphere seems to change. There was something about him that drew you in, something that held you back.

"I'm a fan of your work too," he admitted, his tone softer.

The confession took you by surprise. "You've read my books?"

"All of them," he said simply. "Your stories have a way of… reaching places most people can't. They're remarkable."

You felt your cheeks flush. "Thank you. That means a lot."

Over the next hour, Jinwoo engaged you in a conversation that felt effortless. He asked about your inspirations, your favorite authors, and even your least favorite topics. His genuine interest caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself sharing parts of yourself that you usually kept hidden.

Little did you know, Jinwoo already knew a lot of what you shared. He memorized your interviews, tracked your public appearances, and pieced together your habits. But hearing it from your lips was a different kind of thrill.

As you spoke, you noticed something strange. The way Jinwoo looked at you—it wasn’t just admiration. It was as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

That night, Jinwoo returned to his room. In his hand was the notebook you left at the coffee shop. He had no intention of keeping it—just making sure it was returned to you—but he couldn’t help but flip through the pages.

Your notes, written in neat handwriting, were filled with ideas for future stories. Jinwoo’s heart raced as he read, imagining himself in every romantic scene you described.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, the possessiveness in his voice undeniable.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The next time you saw Jinwoo was at an event reserved for writers and industry leaders. You were invited as a guest of honor, and Jinwoo was there as a socialite.

Dressed in a sleek black suit, Jinwoo looked every inch the powerful CEO, but he was focused on you. As the night wore on, he found his opportunity.

“I want to return this,” he said, handing you your notebook.

Your eyes lit up in surprise. “You found it! Thank you.”

The two of you eventually left the event together, his presence a comforting contrast to the crowded crowd. As the elevator doors closed, Jinwoo turned to you, his expression unreadable.

“You have no idea how much I admire you,” he said, his voice low.

Before you could react, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both gentle and passionate. The world outside the elevator faded away, leaving only the two of you.

Hope you like it! 💗

Yipee, all the requests has been written :)

Proud of myself ✨

Thanks for loving my works, dear readers 💗💗💗

[reidsc0nverse]

pov your instagram when dating spencer reid pt 4

Liked by paparossi, princesspennyg, and 193 others

(y/n) i think derek got fed up with his statistics...

View all 25 comments

spencerreid1 This was frightening to say the least.

-> emilyprenty Maybe stop giving us daily lectures on a topic we brought up one time

-> paparossi @/emilyprenty I second that

derekm This is also me after he wins EVERY card game we play

-> (y/n) did you know there's a mathematical equation to every card game that guarantees the chances of winning 🤓☝️

-> jjareau not you too y/n..

-> spencerreid1 She's actually not wrong.

AaronHotchner I hope this isn't what you guys do when I'm not on the field with everyone

-> (y/n) 🤷‍♀️

Liked by katecallahan, hotboylukealvez, and 174 others

(y/n) finally convinced him to read og fairytales and watch the movies afterward

View all 23 comments

spencerreid1 ❤️

derekm Reid definitely seems like a rapunzel guy

-> (y/n) his favorite was actually belle

-> emilyprenty @/(y/n) shocker

jjareau Now you've just gotta show him Twilight

-> (y/n) that's next 🤭

princesspennyg This is so cute!!!!!

-> (y/n) until right after the movie he started telling me all the inaccuracies were in it compared to the story

-> paparossi Dont sound too surprised

Liked by derekm, AaronHotchner and 232 others

(y/n) i might've gotten a little carried away

View all 31 comments

emilyprenty that should've been me

-> (y/n) come over.

-> derekm @/spencerreid1 you're just gonna let this happen??

-> spencerreid1 I've come to realize there's nothing I can do.

jjareau And to think we thought he'd never get any action

Liked by alexblake, princesspennyg, and 184 others

(y/n) found this gem going through my pictures, it was too good not to post

View all 29 comments

emilprenty JUMPSCARE WARNING

-> (y/n) ⚠️

-> paparossi After the 30 something years I've worked in the FBI, this is probably the scariest thing I've seen

-> spencerreid1 :(

spencerreid1 Why does Derek look like he's going to kick you down like one of his doors?

-> (y/n) HAHAHAHAHAHAH DID YOU JUST MAKE A JOKE SPENCER REID???

-> derekm at least i don't look like sixth grader at his graduation of middle school

-> (y/n) @/derekm yeah and you look like his bully that steals his lunch money

what other things do you guys wanna see? there's a bunch of stuff i can do similar to this just lmk!!!

[cheshireliam]

"Countdown to Stealing Your Heart" Collection Event

Liam ECB Card Story

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

NSFW WARNING!!

Liam: Thank you all for coming to our theatre tonight too.

Liam: Have a wonderful new year, everyone!

December 31st. The heartwarming performance by The Scala for families and couples spending the end of the year together was a great success. 

…

I met up with Liam in the theatre’s hall after he was done cleaning up.  

Kate: Good work, Liam! 

Liam: Thanks for coming, Kate! How was the play?

Kate: It was so touching… I teared up at the end. I especially liked the scene where they huddled together in the snow— 

Liam gazed at me tenderly with his eyes the colour of roses as I told him every little detail about the strong impressions the play left on me, while also sharing little anecdotes like “the tempo was important there…” and “did you notice the ad-lib?”.  

(... This time is such a luxury.) 

Up till now. I've always been watching plays alone as a hobby, and although I never found it to be unsatisfying… 

Now, I enjoyed chatting about something I like with the person I love.

Kate: … Sorry, I was rambling. Shall we continue this conversation when we get home? 

Liam: Sure. But before that… can I please get a reward for my hard work? 

With fluid movements like a cat, Liam brought his face closer to mine.

Kate: C-can we also leave that for when we get home…? 

Liam: No can do. I lose my self-control when I see you, Kate.

Liam: We can do it before someone comes… come on, quick— 

My gaze was drawn to his lips as he pleaded for his reward.

Wanting to give him his reward and touch him, I took a step closer to him. Just then— 

Tom: Liam! Kate, you're here too! 

Kate: T-Tom…! 

I quickly jumped back and put some distance between Liam and I when Tom, the director of The Scala, came in. 

Tom: … Oops, am I disturbing something? 

Kate: No, um… is something the matter? 

Tom: The troupe is having a get-together after this to celebrate the end of the year and the new year. 

Tom: Why don’t you two join us too?

Kate: Would it be alright if I join even though I’m not part of the troupe…? 

Tom: You’re part of the reason why Liam’s acting is improving, you know? 

Tom: How should I put this? Hmm… not only is his acting improving, Liam’s personality has also been shining through his roles. 

Tom: Anyway, you played a prominent role in it! Right, Liam? 

Liam: … Of course. Don’t say you’re not part of us, Kate. 

Kate: Alright… thank you. 

Since it was coming from the person who made Liam an actor, it must be true that Liam’s acting has changed. 

(If I had such a positive impact on Liam… nothing would make me happier.)

…

We went to a tavern we had been to before with the troupe members of The Scala.

Tom: Next year, we’ll make The Scale the best theatre in all of England— no, in the entire WORLD! 

Tom, who had a low alcohol tolerance, made a bold declaration before downing his drink in one shot. 

I was sure that was the Bomb Shot, rumoured to be incredibly strong yet awful tasting.

Tom: Ugh… eurgh… I feel sick. 

Kate: A-are you alright, Tom? You should go outside for some fresh air—

The same time I expressed my concern for Tom, Liam leaned over on my shoulder.

Kate: Liam…?

Liam: Kate… I feel sick too…

Kate: What.

Liam’s face was pale and clammy, his breathing was laboured too. 

He seemed fine just a while ago, but he felt unwell all of a sudden. 

Liam: I think going outside will make me feel better… will you come with me?

Kate: Alright. Here, I’ll support you. 

Leaving Tom to a sober troupe member, I lent Liam my shoulder for support.

…

Kate: There we go… you can sit over there and rest, Liam. 

I spotted a bench right outside the tavern and tried guiding Liam towards it.

Liam: … Nah. I don’t need to. 

Kate: Huh? — Kyaa! 

Suddenly, Liam slid an arm under my knees and lifted me in a princess carry. 

Liam effortlessly ran through the streets at night with me in his arms and leapt up onto a rooftop.

Liam: This should be the spot… I think we can get a good view of the new year’s fireworks from here.

Liam gently let me down onto the roof while tightly holding my hand in case I slipped.

Kate: Um… Liam, are you okay? You said that you felt sick…

Liam: … Sorry, that was a lie. I just wanted to have alone time with you as soon as possible, so I whisked you away like that.

Kate: That was an act? As expected of you, Liam. Your great acting had be compl fooled.

Liam: … You’re not mad at me for lying?

Kate: I was worried, but… I’m relieved that you’re not unwell.

Kate: Besides, I was also thinking that I wanted to be alone with you, so don’t worry about it.

Liam wore a troubled look on his face when I told him that he didn't have to feel guilty about what he did. 

This time, it wasn’t an act; it was Liam’s real facial expression. 

Liam: … … I’m really such a weakling, I can’t keep my cool.

Liam: Tom interrupting when I was about to kiss you, you trying to take care of Tom… I hated all of it.

Liam: It’s not that I’m suspecting you of having something with Tom. 

Liam: Even if it were someone else, I’d still hate it… 

Liam: That’s why I lied, made you worry about me, and tried getting your attention… it’s pathetic. I’m childish, aren’t I? 

Kate: Liam… 

I was about to speak when I heard a loud boom. I looked up to see fireworks lighting up the night sky.

Liam: This year’s fireworks start before the countdown.

Liam: There’s still about 30 minutes before we step into the new year…

Liam: I wish I could be reborn as a stronger and kinder person with every new year. 

Liam: But, since that’s not possible… I have to try my best as I am. 

Liam didn't want to erase the existence of his weak self or pretend to be someone who’s strong. 

He said that he would continue living as himself and rely on his own strength to change. 

Liam: Therefore, Kate…

Liam: From the seat closest to me that anyone else's, watch me change and grow.

I could sense his nervousness from the way his grip tightened around my hand.

Kate: … I was already intending to do that without you asking. 

I was drawn to Liam who resembled Betelgeuse shining brightly in the night sky.

We’ve gotten so close that I didn't mind burning out together with him at the end of our lives.

Kate: I won’t ever take my eyes off you, Liam. So keep yours on me too. 

I gazed up at Liam from up close, as though not wanting to let a single change in Liam escape my sight. 

I reached my free hand to Liam’s cheek.

Standing slightly on my tiptoes, I placed a soft kiss on his lips. 

In the end, we returned to our room without waiting for the new year countdown.

Not even sparing any time to bathe, we tumbled straight into bed. 

We took off each other’s clothes and started making love without saying much. 

Liam: Nn, haa… 

We exchanged countless heated kisses as though to warm ourselves from the cold and Liam slowly pushed himself into me. 

Liam: It’s our long-awaited first new year together, and yet… we’re doing what we always do. 

Kate: I like doing it with you, so… as always, I’m fine with it. 

Liam: Fufu, you’re really good at indulging me, Kate… 

Liam: Then let’s fill ourselves with as much pleasure as we can. 

Our fingers intertwined, and our bodies came together as we expressed our overflowing feelings of love for each other. 

Liam: Mm… it’s already 11:59pm. 

Liam looked up from dropping kisses on my chest and checked the time.

Liam: I want to spend new year’s eve kissing you… can I? 

I smiled. Instead of using my words to respond, I wrapped my arms around Liam’s back and initiated the kiss.

Liam: Nn… haa…

Liam’s hot tongue parted my lips and danced in my mouth.

Liam: Nn… I’ll start moving…

Liam picked up his rhythm again, rocking his hips and slamming into me. 

Kate: Haa… ah… ahhh…! 

I reflexively tried to move away due to the overwhelming pleasure, but Liam stopped me by grabbing my hips. 

Liam: Fufu… no running away. 

Kate: Nngh—aah…! 

Liam pinned me down and continued rearranging my guts.

Liam: Let me see more… your erotic cries and facial expressions… I want to know all of it. 

Liam’s groans were husky and sweet, a side of him he would never show on stage. He was my Liam. 

It was so endearing it made me want to fulfil every one of his requests, no matter how lewd. 

I gave him an accepting smile and he thrust into me, holding my hips.

Kate: Nn, aaah…! 

The pleasure was so great that I nearly lost consciousness for a moment. 

Cheers from people celebrating the new year and fireworks going off could be heard outside the window. 

Liam: Ahha… Kate, did you cum the moment we entered the new year…? That’s so sexy. 

Liam kissed away the tears that had formed in the corners of my eyes.

Liam: Since we couldn’t do a countdown… shall we do a “count up” this time? 

Kate: …? What’s that? 

Liam: I want to know how many times I can cum, so…

Liam: Will you count together with me and help satisfy my curiosity?

Liam: Here goes… one… two…

Kate: Nn… w-wait, Liam…!

Afraid of overstimulating my sensitive body after having just reached my climax, I clung to Liam’s arms to stop him from moving. 

Liam: I’ll wait until you tell me “okay”. 

Kate: … 

It felt shameful to be the one initiating it by giving him the signal to start. 

But, since I wanted to fulfil Liam’s wish— 

“Okay”

I whispered the word and our lustful count up began. 

[hxney-lemcn]

Congratulations on the 2k! You truly deserve it and much more! I look forward reading more of your works, they make my day! ❤️❤️

My request is with Idia

Genre -🌹

Tropes: 🍂💫

Prompts: 👀🍯😍😴😳

Sorry if I put too much in the prompts. Please forgive me :'>

-🍫🌹

a/n: ending this event with a full on fic 💀. can you tell I love Idia? and that wasn't too many prompts! I didn't put a limit, just not guaranteed that I'd use them all, but I managed to for this fic 😊

tw: panic/anxiety attack

wc: 0.9k

2k follower event | master list

You were immersed in the game, you had wanted it ever since it was announced and Idia had got it for you as a gift. So, you were playing it with him, a tradition that formed over the time you knew each other. You were so close to gathering all the extra items, your perfectionist eating at you. You just couldn’t stop until you got 100%. As the end came near, and you successfully gathered every collectable, you grinned triumphantly, glancing over to Idia whose gaze hadn’t left you the entire time. Trying to smother the fluttery feeling in your stomach, you asked.

“Why are you staring? Is there something on my face?”

“H-huh?” Idia stammered, cheeks turning a light pink. “N-no, sorry.”

“It’s cool,” You shrugged, trying to not stare yourself. Who gave him the right to be so pretty? Putting the controller down, you checked your phone (hiding it so Idia couldn’t see it was a picture of him) and noticed it was late. Another tradition was your sleepovers, they happened whenever and for the littlest reasons. Something neither of you batted an eye at anymore. 

Stretching your arms, you spoke up, “We should probably call it a night.” 

“Yeah,” Idia nodded, already getting his bed ready for you both. Saving and shutting off your game, you put the controller away before getting into bed beside Idia who already laid down playing one of his mobile gacha games. Getting comfy, you rested your head next to your friends, watching him play. It was silent save for the game, but you didn’t mind, shutting your eyes and snuggling closer into his neck to block out the light. 

“If you keep this up I might just fall for you,” You heard him murmur. Probably meant to be a confession for his ears only, but being so close to him, you heard it as clear as day.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” You murmured back, trying to bite back your grin as your stomach fluttered violently. This was the closest to anything romantic between the two of you, and your crush on the fiery haired man had been making you wish things could just snap into place finally. After all, things between you two seemed to go smoothly, becoming friends quickly from a young age, sticking by his side through thick and thin, it had always seemed like you two were destined. Maybe that was your hopeless romantic tendencies peaking through, but you still felt that way regardless. 

Idia, on the other hand, was freaking out. You weren’t meant to hear that, his heart was beating out of his chest (mainly from anxiety). He dropped his phone on his face trying to scramble out of bed, needing to put distance between the two of you to calm down. Why did you respond like that?? Do you like him? For real? It was harder for him to think otherwise as you had been his friend for so long, he knew you wouldn’t just joke about something like this. You wouldn’t mess with his feelings…right?

“Why did you leave,” You groaned, arm outstretched. “Come back to bed, you’re warm.”

His mind was reeling, why were you acting so casually? Sure, you made some jokes that made his heart skip a beat. Inadvertently calling him your spouse, pretending like you were going to divorce him in silly arguments…actually, you made a lot of jokes about you being together. Oh seven, were you subtly trying to tell him your feelings this entire time and he was just an idiot??

“W-what are we?” Idia asked in a sudden state of panic, feeling like the walls were slowly closing in on him. You stood up from bed, face turning dead serious as you rushed over to him, hands out in a placating move.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” You murmured. “Can I touch you?” He nodded, unable to speak properly. Gently and slowly, you grabbed his hands, making him look you in the eye. “You’re okay, we’re okay,” You continued to consol, trying your best to ground him. This wasn’t the first time you helped him with a panic attack. “Breath with me, okay sweetheart?” Shakily, Idia tried to copy your breathing, your touch grounding him. Slowly, he felt himself come too, breathing steadying and squeezing your hands. Your gaze held so much concern, he felt like he was going to melt. He didn’t deserve you. You were so attractive, kind, and fun…why did you spend your time with a loser like him? 

“Are…are we about to kiss right now?” Idia asked, wide golden eyes locked on yours. 

You blinked, feeling a bit confused at the shift in attitude, “Are you serious? You just had a panic attack, I wouldn’t pressure you like that.”

Biting his lip, Idia’s gaze lowered to your lips, he always felt a boost in confidence when you held him, when you looked at him with nothing but concern and love, it made him confident enough to say,

“I wouldn’t mind it. N-not if it was you”

“How about tomorrow,” You offered, trying to ignore the heat that rushed to your cheeks at the thought. “I’ll kiss you as much as you want.”

“S-seriously?” Idia’s voice raised a pitch, and you were scared you almost sent him through another spiral. Instead, his hair flared violently, the tips a light pink as he peaked at you hesitantly.

“Yeah,” You grinned. “But first I need to re-energize first, and I think you do too.”

Agreeing, Idia let you drag him back to bed, head tucked in the crook of your neck. It was hard for him to fall asleep at first, haunted by the image of your lips on his own, but he eventually fell unconscious, dreams sweeter than they had ever been before.

[agoldenblackbird]

i'm gonna be a ranty bitch for a minute.

tbh i'm turned off even reading new buddie fic despite being a multishipper and have unfollowed a bunch of buddie accounts because i'm sick of the smug attitudes. one ask that i am otherwise not going to publish or respond to ended with 'sorry you don't understand media literacy bestie :)' fuck off. listen INFANT, i have been writing fanfic and original fic AND watching, reading and analyzing queer media since before you were born, i understand how character and story development works, and i know the difference between 'storyline i personally disliked' and 'bad writing.' this was BOTH, and it also was marketed to us as 'carefully crafted bi rep' and 'queer love story that is not about a bunch of pain and conflict FOR ONCE' so we have every right to be upset at the bait-and-switch.

the fact that i'm seeing the same exact posts - 'bt bones buddie CANON' that i saw three seasons ago after the bucktaylor breakup, or every time they thought buck and taylor MIGHT break up - says something. the fact that so many fans seem genuinely convinced (STILL!) that buddie is inevitable because there have been so many 'signs,' and then they rattle off a convoluted theory that would make the most hardcore taylor swift stan say 'wow, that's a bit of a reach,' honestly weirded me out a little when i first joined the 911 fandom. i have never been in a fandom where so many fans are insistent that their ship will be - not might be or could be, but WILL be - canon. i am skeptical both from past experience with other shows mishandling queer storylines or ship-baiting, and tim minnear's proven track record with this one of not really knowing what to do with buck's LI's. but i didn't want to yuck anybody's yum, so i let them have their theories and squee in peace, and unfollowed or blocked certain tags if i was seeing too much of it and getting annoyed. it's too out there for me, but i'm glad they're having fun!

yet they can't give us the same courtesy. they deride us as delusional for thinking that a canon pairing that was presented to us both in promo and the show itself as different and important (eg the bobby approval convo and 'buck getting off the hamster wheel') might last, and we're stupid to have ever liked tommy or lou or be disappointed at how the breakup was written, and if we point out the biphobia it's just sour grapes.

the bucktommy breakup is not the first time 911 has started out strong with an interesting storyline and fumbled it in the 4th quarter either because the writers got bored or in the name of needless drama/a 'gotcha' sudden twist. amir & bobby, eddie's fight club arc, the sperm donor SL, hen vs councilwoman ortiz, whatever the hell is going on with harry, the whole mess with shannon/kim, just to name a few. and especially the past couple of seasons, for me since 6b, the pacing has been off. they seem to have too much happening at once and many of the storylines don't have enough room to breathe to be narratively satisfying, or they get resolved in ways that feel lackluster.

if the toxic buddie stans who have been attacking lou on sm and sending death threats (wtf!) actually get what they want, which i admit is possible, but it's certainly not guaranteed….i don't know why they think the writers won't fumble that just as badly. it's not going to happen precisely the way they want it to because it is impossible to please everybody, that's what fanfic is for. but at this point i have zero faith that it would even be well done at all, and zero trust in the writers not to just sabotage or regress a character for funsies, and that's an excellent reason to stop watching the show. in most of my other fandoms i regard canon as a jumping-off point or a blurry outline at best, and i can have just as much fun in the 911 sandbox without any further input from canon at all, once i'm less angry.

[gorgeouslypink]

ARE YOU TIRED OF NOT ENTERING THE VOID? DO YOU WANT A VERY EASY, ALMOST GUARANTEED METHOD TO ENTER?

Well let me tell you my story. My name is Rarin and I have been in the community for more than a year and I have tried everything and struggled and given up many times but always found my way back because bad situations.

Last night I entered the void state and it was by the easiest method I've ever tried. Basically all I did was play this video: https://youtu.be/22vOkSWiNwQ and fall asleep. Now you can read through thr comment sections and everyone seemed to get lucid dreams every time they played this. Don't worry the music isn't too jarring or anything like that either.

Anyways I played it and was falling asleep. I didn't even affirm for the void or anything, I was just thinking about a anime I watched (gorgeous I know u like anime, you should check out ice guy and his cool female colleague). Anyways I gained awareness and I was in the void but I wasn't sure so I just affirmed for a few minutes and nothing really changed so I just affirmed for my desired face and to always wake up in the void and I woke up with my desired face and tonight I know I'm going to wake up in thr void and I can manifest the rest of everything.

This is literally the easiest method ever and you're guaranteed to get atleast something, if it's a lucid dream, make sure you're doing finger taps or something regularly and then make a portal or something for the void. If you end up in sleep paralysis, make sure to affirm and get into the void. And if you just end up straight in the void like me, make sire to affirm ur desires.

I am literally so happy right now and gorgeous I just wanted to thank u for all your help. You were honestly the only blogger I followed and all your advice helped me so much. I cant believe i have my desired face, i look so cute. I love you ❤️

Hi love!! WOW!!! Congratulations Rarin, I'm so happy for you. And I think your ask is so cute, the way you made into like a post almost. I will check out that anime and thank you for your kind words, I'm really happy for you and thank you for sharing your method will everyone 💗

[wroteclassicaly]

Steve painting your toenails when you’re pregnant. You’ve never seen that man more focussed. Except that one time when he was putting your daughter’s crib together and went overboard, because he panicked it would somehow fall apart, and she’d get hurt.

“You think she’ll let me do this for her when she gets a little older?” He doesn’t look up, swiping the pastel blue across your pinky toe (the hardest one).

“She’s gotta get here first, baby.” You tease.

You pick up your cool drink, swiping a finger across the condensation, the drink he’d catered you with before getting out your nail polish caddy and supplies. Steve always makes sure to keep you pampered, knowing what you’re doing to grow his tiny human. It’s annoying sometimes, especially with your fluctuating hormones, but he takes it in stride. He’d read all the baby books before you, attended every check-up, made sure you favorite foods were available, prepared the nursery, helped you nest, even started picking up the task of assisting in shaving your legs. And when he couldn’t be there to satiate your food cravings, he always had someone on stand by who could pick it up for you.

As for the other things? You weren’t sure who was more sexually addicted to one another. Your hormones were going wild for Steve’s scent, those hands, those freckles, that mouth, his body, that thick fucking cock, his fucking hair — everything. It didn’t matter what he did, it could be something simple that would set you off. And his fascination with your newly round belly, the little kicks that appeared underneath his massive palm, how tender you seemed to be between your legs or your breasts.

Your tits… fuck. The way they’ve swollen with milk in preparing to feed your daughter, all the visuals that Steve has, the way he holds the heavy globes, caressing, indulging, fascinated in your body changing and giving you what you need for a new person to enter the world. You and Steve had made that decision immediately. To feed her from your breast, if you could, hoping she wouldn’t have trouble taking. The way his heart swelled thinking about you caring for something, someone, that you both made. Two people who were once strangers, at different ends of the social hierarchy spectrum.

All that you’ve been through, all that you’re going through, and all that you will go through in the years to come.

“I know it’s usually a mother daughter thing, but I don’t know —“

“Steve,” you say softly, hand laying over top his. His watch catches beneath the lamplight, his thumb-pad swiping to caress your knuckles. “It’s an activity she can do with both of us, if that’s what she wants to do. I know how involved you wanna be with her life, and it’s okay, baby. You will be, even if she decides she wants to play with makeup, you can be the test dummy. And if she wants to play hair salon, your hair —“

“Woah, woah,” Steve lifts the small polish lid, color almost dripping. You snort and shake your head. He begins to focus back on your toes. “We can bring Uncle Eddie over for that one.”

You’re just sipping on your soda, knowing that even his precious hair isn’t off limits in regards to his little girl. Already having him wrapped around her finger, he’s pretty much guaranteed to be the beauty shop test dummy. And he knows that as well, and he would not have it any other way.

[fellow-human-writer]

On writing motivation and writer's block (+ a special piece of my own writing)

So, for a self-proclaimed writer, I haven't been doing very well with my writing lately. It's been well over six months now since I last wrote anything of substance (I spent two weeks writing a chapter every day and burned myself out, but that's a story for another day). Right now, it's hard to not feel a bitter sense of guilt about it all. Where has all my motivation gone? How dare I call myself a writer? Maybe I should just forget about it. I'd never make it anyway. But then, I remember one particular piece of writing I produced over 9 months ago, some time before hitting my big wall. A seemingly random fragment from chapter 9 of my semi-abandoned WIP. Perhaps it will read as nothing special to you. I won't claim it to be perfect, or even great writing. But to me, it is hope. I showed it to my one and only beta (more like alpha) reader at the time, who'd been keeping up with my novel-writing endeavors, and they told me that these paragraphs had evoked deep feelings in them. That they were beautiful. It won't have that effect on everyone—hell, it won't have it on most people. But, at the very least, I made one person feel something beautiful with my writing. I know that. And is that not what this is all about? As long as I can make one person feel, maybe it's all worth it after all. I will keep calling myself a writer. I won't give up. And I guarantee, you reading this right now have the ability to make people feel too, no matter what. Be strong, friend. I will be rooting for you. I want to share that special fragment of mine with you all. It's out of context, given that it's from chapter 9 of a novel, but I think it can mostly stand on its own. One crucial piece of worldbuilding first: The main trait this fantasy world has is that its two continents (gigantic floating islands/landmasses) are situated in such a way that the one on top (the "highlands") block most of the light/sky for the residents of the one below (the "lowlands"), which is where our POV character currently is, going through some magical trial or other (you'll see!) Without further ado, here's said piece of writing. I hope at least one of you out there who randomly came across this post enjoys it :]

Leiden looked up. The base of the highlands couldn't be more than a couple dozen paces away. From so up close it felt even more oppressive than usual. He noticed a second plaque, inlaid in the roof of the tower, where he was standing. There was more to the trial, as he suspected. After reading its contents, however, he felt confused. ‘I'm glad to see you make it here. Your task is simple: Feast upon the beauty of the sky.’ He looked up again. It would be hard to feast upon what wasn't there. If he looked to the sides, he could just barely make out the thin lines of sky visible beyond the highlands. It didn't feel like enough to exactly feast upon. For the sake of trying something, he lied down with his back to the stone. He had enjoyed cloud watching, back when he was above. Even though there were only rocks on top of him, he wrapped his hands behind his head, and tried to remember the feeling of admiring the sky. He closed his eyes and pictured a summer afternoon, with an open sky decorated by a few lonely clouds. What was the point of this trial? Maybe it had once been possible to see the sky from here. Had the highlands not always been above the lowlands? Perhaps it was all part of the trial. Slowly, those complicated thoughts ran out of steam, and Leiden became fully involved in his personal sky, and his little clouds. It was nice. It had been a while since he'd felt like he could afford to take a moment to just relax. He saw shapes of all kinds in the clouds, as they swirled and morphed and danced with the wind. Sometimes the sun peeked from behind, bathing him in rays of light. He realized there was no need to limit himself to one kind of sky. A wave of darkness swept over the azure background, and small brilliant dots started to cover the sea of black. The moon stood out amongst them all, shining with borrowed light. It seemed larger than usual, like it was stretching to cover Leiden's view to the fullest extent it was capable of. For a moment, within himself, Leiden stopped feeling alone as he became part of a whole. He was a blade of grass, swaying in the dirt, surrounded by acres of grassy fields. He was a star, shining with the endless power of the sun; a speck, part of a map of dots where each one represented wonders beyond a human’s capability to understand. He was everything, and yet he was nothing at all. It was a realization that often eluded a species defined by their willingness to work against nature. What separates a human from an eagle, soaring through the clouds; or an ant, working hard for the good of its colony? What makes us so different from a flower, helping the bee produce its food in exchange for having their lineage continued? Are we so different from a gust of wind, ephemeral in its passing, yet meaningful all the same? Leiden felt like a mote of dust, suspended in a beam of light. Visible only as long as the sun shined, yet always there. He floated in the air, no longer supported by the steady stone beneath him. Well done, child, a voice said. He was so surprised by the voice that he snapped out of his daydreaming. He opened his eyes and realized that he really was floating—or he had been, until the free fall started.

Thank you sincerely for taking the time to read it. It means a lot. I would love to hear what more people think of it. I'm still severely lacking as a writer, but I'm proud of it. It's more poetic than what I usually produce. That's all for today, friends. I hope you have a wonderful day. Good luck on your writing endeavors! We'll make it through, together <3

[tinsnip]

Ok, so bmouse says WIPs should be finished in honour of Garashir on Lower Decks, and I agree.

I'm writing again! It's nice but also work! If you like my Garashir, you might like what's below the read-more. Spoilers for "The Smallest Things" and this is a rough draft.

Dear Ezri,

I hardly know where to start.

I suppose I could start a week ago, when I moved into Garak’s home in Kardasi’or, but that seems to gloss over a few details.

Perhaps instead I’ll go back to two weeks ago when I arrived here on Cardassia and immediately got arrested for harassment of a senior official & resisting arrest. Really, it was immediately. About two hours elapsed from Cardassian soil to Cardassian jail. This is where you can pretend to be surprised, by the way. I was surprised: two hours is a new record for me.

Garak’s just passed by and has asked that I put in a hello, and has also charmingly added that given that it was me, he would have expected the arrest in closer to one hour. Ho ho. He hasn’t changed.

Actually, he has changed. But I don’t know what to say about that yet.

I’ve only been here in person for two weeks, and we’ve seen each other surprisingly little over that period. It turns out that being a person of seemingly some importance in the local government eats up a great deal of his time. He doesn’t sleep much.

But he does make time to cook dinner for us - actually cook! (He won’t let me, as I’m awful at it, which I agree with wholeheartedly.) We have a very small replicator, honestly quite the step down from even the worst standard repli on DS9 - but it can spit out a reasonable variety of ingredients I don’t recognize, and even a sort of facsimile of a tomato, which Garak managed to turn into something surprisingly close to a nice spicy arrabiatta. That was a treat (once I managed to forget that the pasta was some kind of fungus). And I’m getting used to a mostly-strict standard Cardassian breakfast and lunch regimen, as Garak’s not around when I wake up (or for most of the day), and the replicator’s pre-made selection is minimal. And bland. Fish soup is prevalent. Lots of little dry cakes. Not all awful, though - have you ever heard of ikri buns? 

I keep putting this letter down and picking it up again. It’s so hard to put how I’m feeling into words.

I’m happy. I’m so happy. I can’t express it. I’m warm through with it. But I know myself, I know that’s new love. (It’s love! He loves me, Ezri! And I love him, God help me. I’m so in love.) And I know new love fades, and I know things get in the way of love, and I know I don’t see him much, and here I am on a planet that doesn’t like me much - a criminal record after two hours, remember - and also I stand out, and it’s not good for him to have a partner that stands out for a variety of reasons, especially a sort of quasi-Starfleet Human physician - not so much not good for him as not good for his position, which is him. You know it. You know him, and how he feels about Cardassia. You know what it means for him to choose me, despite what it could do to his possible influence here.

You knew better than I did.

And yet here I am in his house, and I’m very happy, and I’m also afraid.

I thought about crossing out that last bit, or at least rewording it, but it’s true. And anyway, I don’t need to watch my words with you, do I? I think you’re the only person I know who could understand what I’m getting at. Miles barely knows about any of this - he’ll be flattened when I next write to him and casually drop my new location (and the letter back will burn off my eyebrows). And Rijal doesn’t like Garak, and is also quite upset with me for leaving—

I’m on indefinite leave, by the way. I’ve taken leave from Starfleet Medical (hence the ‘quasi’ above). I can apply for re-entry at any time within the next two years, the form letter assures me, as I’ve not been discharged or formally resigned my commission. My former duty spot is, of course, not guaranteed, but they promise they’ll make every effort to accommodate my preferences. Once two years are up, it gets a bit more complicated. Manageable, but complicated.

So here I am, not responsible to anyone and far from what was home, without much of anyone to talk to except Garak. And I find I can’t really talk to him about this.

Ezri, I am terrified.

Everything has changed for me. I still can’t believe how this started out with something so small, with a letter and with you leaving (and I still miss you, by the way, and hope you’re well and happy, forgive my parentheses as I’m a bit all over the place). And then things got extremely complicated. A year ago I could never have predicted how things would change, how my life would suddenly seem to shrink to something so small, and then be so weirdly… expanded.

I think I have some idea how you felt when you were joined with Dax. If that’s not too presumptuous, which it probably is, but… I could never have imagined myself doing this, a year ago. I thought I could see my life rolling out comfortably in front of me.

And now this.

I’ve leapt before I looked, as you wisely knew I would. And I told myself I’d sort things out when I landed. But instead I seem to still be falling, with no idea where or when I’m going to land. And you told me so.

But, and please forgive my tortured metaphor, he’s here with me, and we’re falling together, and I know I’m being sappily romantic and this probably won’t end well, and I know I’m scared and he’s scared too even though he’d never admit it, and I also know that I am damned well going to try.

Cardassia can take all the shots it wants at me. I’m ready. Bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway, right? (Garak is now reading over my shoulder, and he says that no, that is not bravery, that is stupidity. He’s also put his arms around me, so I suppose my stupidity is either expected or forgiven.) I hope I can find a way to practice medicine here, but if that’s not what’s needed of me right now, then all right, I’ll adapt. Right now Garak says our best bet for this to all work out, politically and for the two of us, is for me look harmless and ornamental and not at all dangerous (I will never forgive you for the way you’re grinning). So I’m staying at home, and I’m reading, and I’m learning. When I go out I’m on his arm. I’ve done two public appearances at local reading-groups, and I’ve been a guest on a talk show, which has already invited me back. I’ve been told my looks are exotic and my smile is charming and I’m honestly one of the nicest Humans they’ve ever met, if one doesn’t mind the smell and the way we shed.

So I suppose in addition to giddily happy and stomach-churningly frightened, I’m also getting irritated.

This isn’t going to be easy, Ezri. Thank you for warning me. Thank you for telling me to be careful. And thank you for supporting me when you realized I was going to do whatever I wanted, no matter the consequences.

Perhaps in a year, when things settle down a bit, you could come visit? I could take you to see the Alik Dunes, not far from Kardasi’or. It’s a walkable distance from the furthest train stop, actually. They’re the site of the first successful regreening project in this area after the Fire. There’s a little tea shop, and an area where one can walk barefoot. The plants feel very good on one’s soles. Garak and I go there sometimes, and almost no one takes pictures. I think you’d like it.

I miss you. I hope you’re well. I hope you’re having grand adventures. I hope you can lend me a little courage as I start out on this one.

Best wishes, and all my love,

Julian Bashir

[blond3ang3l]

Lemme give you a megaphone so the ppl in the back can hear you bestie‼️🫶🏽

Like yes I wanna be longingly fucked sideways with fingers down my throat till I’m all teary eyed but….what if me and him just went to a museum and look at marble statues or paintings made by artists from long ago and point out the small details while sharing the historical context behind them. Or what if we held hands while going to a coffee shop owned by a small business then an old bookshop. We could read classic literature and write poems to each other or sum🤷🏾

I love this so much. Like the causal intimacy of being together with your girlfriend/boyfriend and being able to have interesting conversations and spending time with you is what makes doing things like this so great. Both of your phones away in your back pockets so that you both have one another’s attention. Time can go by so fast without the distractions of other people around trying to voice opinions. Learning together and growing together as you both grow older.

There are many different characters I can see this with. Especially when it comes to the women. Most time they are some of the most intellectual people and they just get thrown off. The AOT girls are the first ones that come to mind. Mikasa and Historia especially. Those two would absolutely love to do something casual with you. Historia is an absolute renaissance art lover. Michaelangelo is would be one of her favorite artists. She knows so many facts and can tell you for literal hours. Painting dates ejth Historia oh my lord. One of her favorite things to do. She’s so messy with it and it’s so cute.

Mikasa though? She’s all for cafe dates. She is obsessed with you. Now I think Mikasa and Historia had a bit more fancier taste because of who they are, but Mikasa loved being to be close to you and just hear you talk to her about just about anything. Her pretty nails that you did for her, twisting around your curls as she sat prettily on your lap while you fed the small cake that she bought for you guys.

Another girl I think this works for is Bulma from dragonball. Oh my god that woman is beautiful and smart. Museum dates are 100% guaranteed. She’s one of the smartest characters in that entire show and you think you’re getting out of hearing everything that woman knows? She is so graceful with it too. The two of you walking around hand in hand while she educates you on all the different facts is so amazing. She also loves how much you know on your niche and different interests. Especially if comes things about science or the body. She loves being able to talk to someone on her level or educate you.

When it comes to men the first thing to comes to men first people that come to mind are Nanami and Levi. We all know how Nanami is, he’s the hardworking man that we all love and there’s no way you guys don’t have a museum date at least once. But, I can see nanami doing bakery dates. Something small you both can fit in your busy schedules because nanami had made a vow to himself that you guys do at-least two times a month. He loves to use that time to discuss anything you think has been affecting you guys, whether to be in the relationship or just something bothering you at work or whatever. If there’s nothing bother you then you guys just talk about any events coming up or even planning the future you want to have for the both of you. It’s the ambiance of the bakery that makes you both feel so calm which is so different from the many things you have to do all day. He holds your hand as you speak, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle while watching your lips as he digest every word that comes from your lips.

Levi is totally the bookstore date kind of man. Sometimes you guys don’t really want or have anything to talk about. You just both miss each other so you sit together while reading. Both doing your own thing but being close enough to fill the need of being together. You both have your own books (headcanon that Levi prefers audio books instead cause of his lost of vision) and you rest your hand on his lap as you sit together on the small bench in for bookstore. He is retired so you two take a lot of time to yourselves, just enjoying the presence of one another..

Even people like Captain price and Laswell from call of duty, they love going out to drive in movies with you. You end up sitting on their lap while they laid in the back seat. Halfway through the movie those two aren’t even watchin anymore. Laswell would just be kissing the back of your neck while wrapping her arms around your waist, silently thinking about how lucky she is to have you in her life. While price is just happily watching all perched up in his lap, smoking his cigar, and thinking about how in love he is with you.

———————————————————————

Anyways I love all these ideas and a lot of people currently (especially men) don’t do dates and showing affection like people used to. I feel with how everything is on social media people just mostly look for someone sexually or they base a lot of opinions on the sexual aspect of the relationship. Like yeah that’s great and all but I want someone to YEARN for me. To want to be around me and miss me when I’m gone. Someone willing to remember small things because I feel like when someone knows you well knows what efforts to put in when it comes to loving you and showing you ways they do.

And I’m fortunately lucky enough to have a man like that❤️ @insane-juggalo

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

im a trans boy who has grown up with very oppressive religious parents so ive never gotten the chance to experiment sexually or romantically with peers irl, im about to move to the city for college in the fall

(i will be living on campus with two roommates who i haven't met yet and i know basically nothing about, one of them i will be sharing a bunk bed with)

im really nervous about how im gonna do socially.. ive had a really hard time making and maintaining irl friends for like my entire life, which has been really upsetting for me obviously.

being able to experiment sexually is something im really wanting to do and im really really nervous about it, i know that the most straightforward advice is just "talk about it to people you wanna do sex stuff with" but like everything is new to me i havent had the chance to really socialize irl up until this point and now im being shoved into a group of other young adults who all have the prior experience of being well socialized and having complex interpersonal relationships with peers

i also feel extremely insecure about my lack of experience, like is it actually normal for someone my age to have never had a romantic or sexual encounter? are the things ive discovered and assumptions ive made about myself sexually through masturbating wrong?? i can't watch porn bc looking at strangers having sex grosses me out!! im pretty sure my front hole is like unnaturally tight?? anything wider than two of my fingers is uncomfortable and no matter how much prep and easing myself into it i do, it stays that way.. and i think my cervix is also lower than most, about 3-4 inches is the maximum that i can insert before i can feel it bump my cervix (which hurts REALLY BAD)

im just so nervous and scared about my own body and personality and all that andi don't know where to look for resources or reassurance. ive never been to the doctor for any kind of reproductive care and im really scared to!!! i live in a state that has completely outlawed abortion rights and im really scared that if i go to planned parenthood or something to get like a checkup that they will be mean and not gentle with me

i don't know, i guess im just looking to be heard and hopefully pointed towards some resources if anyone has any, thank you for the work you do and thank you for taking the time to read my panicked ramblings

hi anon,

there's a lot happening here so I'm just doing a numbered list

1.) man, how did the third guy luck out and avoid the bunk bed? you don't have to answer that, I'm just curious how you guys have already worked out that two of you are stuck with the bunk beds. unless you're into bunk beds (I was), in which case mazel tov.

2.) in the nicest way possible, I think you may be vastly overestimating how "well socialized" other students are going to be. reading between the lines a bit, it sounds like you were maybe home schooled, or at least don't have very much experience mingling with other people your age without adult supervision. I guarantee you every public school in the world is also full of introverted freak losers who rock up to college with no idea of what they're doing; I was one of them. the majority of first year college students are also running around panicking and trying to figure out how to be away from their parents for the first time; everyone is a loser and no one is cool.

would it comfort you at all to know that my day job is organizing events at my office's LGBT student resource center? I spend a lot of time hanging out with queer first year students, and I love them dearly, and they're all cringefail losers. it's unavoidable. every 18 year old is a cringefail loser. every single person on Earth looks back at their 18 year old self and goes "goddamn, what a cringefail loser." and it's fine! it's so normal! that's the entire point of your first year of college! you try things and you're socially awkward and you meet some of the most important people you will ever meet and you meet people whose opinions about you won't matter literally at all and you'll completely change how you think about everything for the rest of your life and you'll think you're going to die and everything will be fine!!!!

anyway moving on

3.) it's normal for anyone at any age to have never had a romantic or sexual encounter. I'm assuming you value my insight at least a little, since you sent this, so would it help you to know that I arrived at college as virginal as could be (wildly insecure about it, btw) and didn't have sex for the first time until I was almost 21? would it comfort you to hear from my housemate, also transmasculine, who gave me permission to share that they've never had sex and that none of their life problems really have anything to do with being a virgin?

4.) "are the things ive discovered and assumptions ive made about myself sexually through masturbating wrong??" hard to say, since I don't know what those things are, but probably not. it's extremely hard to get masturbating wrong, no one knows what feels good to you better than you. you're sort of an authority here. masturbating isn't exactly like partnered sex, of course, but it's a really good place to start learning about things that you like and make you feel good.

5.) everything you're describing about your front hole sounds very typical. two fingers is the max number of comfortable fingers for a lot of people, regardless of experience; often, taking something larger doesn't become easier until after having penetrative sex with a partner. average vaginal depth is about 3.6 inches, and while that can increase significantly with arousal, it's something that doesn't generally happen if you're not relaxed during sex. if I can be a bit presumptuous, it sounds like sex and masturbation are maybe a bit anxiety-inducing for you, in a way that is pretty much perfectly contradictory to comfortable penetration. if I can offer you some advice I wish I could give my younger self: calm the fuck down, buy some lube, stop worrying so much about making your body react the way you think it should and learn to appreciate what it's actually doing, and maybe see if your campus has some free therapy options available. anxiety meds probably wouldn't hurt this situation. also stop hitting your cervix if that hurts oh my god.

6.) Planned Parenthood is generally one of the best places to go if you're nervous; they're aggressively queer friendly and tend to be extremely accommodating of patients' needs. I personally do not care for penetration at all and have a difficult time with Pap smears, and every examiner I've ever had at PP has been an angel about letting me take breaks and swear my way through it. it ain't fun, but if you want to have an adventurous sex life you need to take care of the health of yourself and your prospective partners by getting STI tests and Pap smears.

you're so normal, calm down, I love you

[lesbianherald]

I don't think I've ever been this frustrated with a fic before. It's genuinely one of the best reads this fandom has to offer; the plot, the characters, the pacing all work very well. And yet! Each time I got immersed in the story, something (like a lack of periods at the end of sentences, characters' names without capital letters, no commas in obvious places, sometimes a word or two that got skipped for no reason) kicked me out of it.

I'm just really confused why you didn't think it'd make this fic even better, if you put each chapter in any free writing app (even google docs) and check it for spelling and punctuation mistakes. You don't need a beta. Your writing is great. It would take a moment, and then your work would be excellent.

Maybe minor mistakes catch my attention because I'm a teacher and English is my 3rd language. I get you don't want to obsessively check every paragraph or you're dyslexic. We have software for this!

You're clearly very hard-working, so it shouldn't be a problem to check your text for silly mistakes (that we all make). Correcting them, next time you write something, won't take more than 5 minutes of your time. But the effects will be there.

hi condescending internet stranger! i've actually been in the process of slowly going back and doing some basic edits. i'd like to bring to your attention that I am in graduate school, I work TWO jobs on top of Freelancing and still make time for this. this was originally supposed to be something fun for me and what I assumed was the couple hundred or so people that would engage. it's been deeply overwhelming for me to see the response its gotten. usually it's great. but people like you are making putting out more work extremely stressful because the pressure to be perfect is umm. a lot. and not why i started fic writing in the first place. this is a free labor of love i am putting out because I LIKE IT.

i guarantee you that diligently going over every single word of a 90k long piece of work takes up a LOT more than five minutes of my time, which may i remind you - you aren't entitled to any of. I do the best i can considering I often have 12 hour days.

i actually do run it through a basic checker. so miss me with that. what i will not do is run it through an AI software - which based on your tone is what I'm guessing you suggest I do. and accusing someone of having a learning disability is kind of insane - especially for a teacher ?! i'd really suggest you watch yourself with that kind of language. much more harmful than missing a few periods.

have a nice day :)

[lola-theshowgrl]

I'm not great at these introduction posts, and this one feels extra strange because it's a bit late coming. Still, I've been remiss, and I felt like it was important to have this somewhere, so here we are!

Hullo!

I'm Lola, I live in the UK, and I'm a writer. I love books, films, music, art, food, and flowers, and if I could disappear into the woods to live like a little cottage witch or a hobbit, I would absolutely do that.

I enjoy simple things. I have my own garden for the first time in my life, and I'm slowly learning how to look after that, moving things about, pruning, and growing veggies from seed. The word of Monty Don is law, and I watch Gardener's World quite religiously.

I have a lot of houseplants, which I'm more knowledgeable about, but only because it was the closest I could get to a garden for many years. I was renting for a long time, so I moved practically every other year, and my houseplants have accumulated to become something like an indoor jungle.

I also like to cook - and to eat! I'm a home cook, I was taught largely by my grandma and by watching various cooking shows over the years. I love how food brings people together, how it varies culturally, and I have a talent for tasting a dish and being able to replicate flavours without a recipe, which is neat.

I do a bit of crafting, though not as much as I used to. I make candles, soap, wax melts and such. I also knit and sew, but only very basically, and I'd like to get better at both, but I never seem to make any time for it. I'm not a particularly organised person, except by necessity, and this often shows itself in such areas.

I love nature and being outside. I walk a lot, usually with my dog, Wilfred, and we visit rivers, forests, beaches, and the occasional marsh together at weekends. There's nothing like fresh air and a good walk to clear your head a bit, I think. That said, I don't like being cold much, and wet socks horrify me on a very primal level, and if it was up to me I wouldn't ever leave the house when it's raining.

I love the sun. You will never hear me complain about it being too hot, I guarantee it. I wait for summertime all year long, and it's fairly short here in England, so I spend as much of the season outside as I can, basking like a lizard.

I'm in my late thirties and coming up fast on middle-age, and I noticed my first grey hairs about a year ago - just a few bright, silvery strands at my temples and around my ears. I feel like I've mentally been a fifty year old since I was ten, so ageing doesn't concern me too much. Also I feel like I won some kind of battle by getting to this point? Sometimes I think about the lonely teenager I was, convinced I wouldn't see twenty-five, and wish I could find a way back to her to tell her she's going to be okay.

I'm short and fat, my nose is a little crooked, my eyes are blue, and my hands are oddly small. I dress like an elderly librarian, and I know I'm winning at the female-gaze when other women compliment my tweed skirts and flowery dresses. I have a vast collection of cardigans.

I'm autistic, I'm queer, and I'm partially deaf. I ought to wear a hearing aid, but honestly? I've heard enough.

Yes, I do think I'm funny.

I love art, classic or new, and I seem to have somehow assimilated a working knowledge of Impressionism. I blame my mother for this.

I once went to the Tate for a school trip and sat in front of a painting by Monet for two hours without moving, and got into trouble for not sticking with the group. I'm obsessed with the idea that Degas was Jack The Ripper, and I wish more people knew about Berthe Morisot.

Books. Stories. Fiction. My true love, and the very core of who I am. I read The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien when I was about eleven years old, and fell head over heels with the fantasy genre. Later that same year, I read Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, and little did I know, became heavily invested in slow-burn romance. Then, I read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, and I knew I wanted to write, just as Jo March did.

I've been scribbling away ever since, trying always to improve, to find my voice and craft interesting stories. I've written a huge amount of fanfiction over the years, and even though much of it has been lost to time and various platforms, I learned a lot from those stories. I did publish two books about a decade ago, under a pen name and with a small press, but I had a pretty bad experience with it, and I stopped writing for a long while afterwards.

It was fanfiction that brought back my love for writing again, and I've been dabbling off and on with some original work for the past three years or so. People are weird about fanfiction, I find, but there's nothing like writing for the simple joy of it, with no expectations, to rekindle your love for the craft. It's only through the encouragement and kindness of the folk who were reading those works that I'm here today, trying again to write and publish my original stories.

Anyway, that's me in a nutshell! I probably waffled on a bit, but thank you for reading anyway!