#What is Document Indexing

[prokopetz]

Eat God playtest draft 0.5.0 is now available

Version 0.5.0 of Eat God brings several major changes, foremost among them a full rewrite of the Forms and Rebellious Arts, in a more structured and (hopefully!) more readable format than the previous wall-of-text presentation. This update also includes print-and-play cards (and corresponding VTT resources) for all Forms, Arts, and playset NPCs and locations. A full list of updates is available here, or under the cut below:

Download package now includes print-and-play cards for all Forms, Rebellious Arts, and playset and NPC locations

Revised introduction to provide a link to the new Form, Art, and playset cards

Expanded discussion of the mechanical effect of Traits

Forms and Rebellious Arts are now numerically indexed in their descriptions as well as in their lookup tables

One additional Form (bringing the total up to a full 36 for the first time!), and a full rewrite of all existing Forms

Full rewrite of all existing Rebellious Arts

Added discussion of how to handle resisting Stress when multiple God-eaters are affected by the same threat simultaneously

Small clarifications to activation timing for Rebellious Arts and what it means to "activate an Art in conjunction with a test"

Greatly expanded discussion of how to adjudicate Limit Breaks

Reformatted examples of Limit Break effects and added a few more examples

Random inventory table slightly revised to make its implicit milieu more consistent, and moved from the Inventory section to a separate appendix in preparation for adding multiple random inventory tables for different milieux

"Effect modifiers" renamed "impact modifiers" to avoid ambiguity with other uses of the word "effect"; relevant terminology throughout document revised accordingly

Simplified rules for how Forms influence impact penalties (formerly effect penalties)

Added first-pass rules for imposing temporary Traits upon NPCs

Added discussion of how cooperative tests work in the context of multiple God-eaters ganging up on a single NPC

Reformatted playset location/NPC/calamity tables for better readability

Added "Appendix B: Additional Tables"; right now this just contains the relocated starting inventory table (see above)

[nyancrimew]

you can all stop tagging me in the "amazon is leaking government documents 😱😱😱" post,

i am aware, google dorking like that (that's what the technique is called, it's fun, go learn more about it beyond a spongebob meme) is literally how most of my career started

amazon isn't leaking anything, that's incredibly misleading, these documents are leaking the way they are because a lot of customers don't properly configure their aws set up, this is not amazons fault or liability

most of the documents you will find that way are meant to be publicly available, for example everything on "imlive.s3.amazonaws.com" is for display on the government's contract bidding site, 99.9% of what's there is knowingly made public (a few years ago i downloaded over 2 terrabytes of that data and found like two documents of interest, neither were indexed by google), lots of other documents are public due to foia requests or other processes

please please please go have fun with google dorking (including that amazon dork) but i hate that sensationalist misleading meme, especially since it makes it out to be some sort of new discovery or bug, people have been doing this for decades and you can properly learn how to have even more fun with it when given the knowledge i now gave you and then slowly learn how to build your own interesting queries

[ditzybeee]

Read your jason todd x reader oral fixacton. Could you please write about reader who stims orally like chewing on things. like maybe chewing on a pen and acidently drools all over it.

❥・a/n: hi hello i love this sm <3 ps the oral fixation series is semi-inspired by this post by @cat-castors pls go check it out !!

❥・Jason Todd — oral stim (nsfw)

❥・tags: mild nsfw, jason todd blurb, established relationship, gn!reader, no use of y/n, neurodivergent!reader, reader has an oral stim, gn!nicknames (baby), fingers in mouth

❥・word count: 372

❥・─────────────────────

When Jason Todd first started dating you, you were weird—in a charming way.

You'd speak in slang, ramble about anything and everything, and he'd love it.

It started getting weird for him when you started stimming.

You'd clack your teeth together, bite his arms and hands in the soft bits, just to feel pressure on your teeth.

Jason found something out about himself, though, when he watched you chew on a pen, saliva trailing down the barrel.

"Baby," he hums, leaning closer to you, watching as you pull the pen out of your mouth. He huffs softly, pushing it back into your mouth.

"What?" You tilt your head, chewing the pen again.

"Why... what's with your mouth? I mean, you like biting and pressing your teeth together."

You shrug, unsure how to explain. "Sometimes I'm stressed—like now," you gesture to the documents you were filling out.

"Or when I'm happy, like when I bite you," you smile.

"You... you don't have anything, right? Like- like kinks I should know about?" He asks slowly, unsure how to continue.

"Do you?" You respond all too quickly with a sparkle in your eye.

Jason blinks. He couldn't respond. How could he?

How could he tell you that—of course, he loves your mouth—he loves every part of you.

Fuck it.

"Can I?" He mumbles quietly, pulling the pen out of your mouth.

You comply, watching as he sticks his index finger into your mouth. You close your lips around his finger and suck.

His eyes widen and his face warms.

He is so fucked.

He presses his finger against your teeth. Despite biting anything and everything, your teeth are pretty sharp. He hums softly when he gets to your canines.

His free hand holds your chin, opening your mouth before a second finger is stuck in between your lips.

Jason is having fun.

He presses his fingers to the back of your tongue, inhaling sharply when you gag.

He continues—pressing his fingers in intervals—watching you gag on his fingers.

He pulls his fingers out eventually, staring at the glistening saliva on his hand.

"Thanks, baby," he hums, pressing a quick kiss on your temple before acting as if nothing happened.

Jason Todd has an oral fixation.

❥・─────────────────────

❥・masterlist

[hannie-berrie]

WEAK HERO CLASS 1-2 ‘s reactions to their S/O teasing them.

Minors DNI

Yeon Sieun:

A quiet evening at home, you and your boyfriend’s favourites. He’s deep into a book, studying some new topic he’s really into, something intellectual and absorbing.

Things have been too peaceful, and you couldn’t let Sieun be at peace for long periods of time, being the tease you are, it was your mission to be his late night problem.

You casually lean over him with a playful smirk on your face

“You know, for someone so ‘rational,’ you blush surprisingly easy when I do this…” You trailed your fingers along his back and neck as you whispered in his ear

Sieun stiffened slightly, not expecting so much play from you, he’s caught off guard but not uncomfortable. His mind raced for a moment, analyzing the little game you’re playing and trying to anticipante your next moves.

His eyes are still fixed on his book sheet, trying to maintain composure but the slight blush on his cheeks betrays him.

He turns to you slowly, with a calm expression but his eyes are locked onto yours.

“You’re dangerously good at interrupting my concentration. You plan that?” He gives you a very slight smirk. Not the playful way but more so the « I can’t belive this » way.

“Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”

The challenge turned him on more than expected, he’s tempted to throw you on the bed behind you and give you a lesson but he kept his almost too calm tone

“Document it, then retaliate when you least expect it. Consider yourself… warned.”

He goes back to his task, but you notice the subtle shift in his behaviour. The way he taps his pen on his desk, shakes his leg under the table, the forced extra focus on his reading.

It’s his way of reclaiming control, but you’ve won. His focus is gone and all he can think about is the ways he wants to fuck you dumb.

Ahn Suho:

You and your boyfriend ate some chicken leftovers for dinner, as you both love that dish. You’re sat on the counter, legs swinging, watching your boyfriend dry the dishes, shirtless.

“You know, for someone who talks big at the gym, I expected more… definition.”

Suho turns his head just slightly your way, not stopping his task. “Oh yeah?” he laughs to himself “You sure you wanna go there?”

You smile and look down at your feet

“I’m just saying… Maybe those flexing selfies are doing more work than the actual workouts.”

Suho drops the plate he’s cleaning and with soapy hands, he grabs your face “That mouth of yours is dangerous.” He leans in close, the goal is the to get you nervous and back down. “You really think I’m all talk, huh?”

He grins, “Careful, babe. I might just prove you wrong, right here, right now.”

He lifting you up the counter and wrapped your legs around his waist

He teases back, “Still think I’m just talk?”

Seo Joontae:

Joontae is the most fun to tease, he melts under your touch, your voice, sometimes even under no pressure at all. Tonight you wore one of his shirts, barely covering your lower half, you knew about it, but didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” You interrupted his personal time

Joontae turns your way and his mouth drop a little, eyes flickering at your bare lower body.

“A-ah I’m not doing anything special.. You look- uh-.. really good right now.” He looked up at you with such big round eyes you could ruin him right now. But you decide to edge him on a little more,

“You always say that like you’re embarrassed you’re thinking it.” You sit your bare ass down on his lap with such casual confidence, running a hand through his hair.

“Tell me what you were doing before I walked in. Was it innocent.. or should I be worried?” You tease his lips with your index finger

Joontae’s cheeks are flaming hot, his stuttering habits showing once more, they were especially obvious when you were teasing him

“I-I wasn’t… It wasn’t like that, I just… I was just drawing. I didn’t expect you to-”

Your finger resting on his lips traced a slow way down his neck “Exactly. You never expect me. That’s what makes you so much fun to play with.”

His breath catches. He wants to lean into it, but also feels exposed. He gives a soft whimper of a laugh, wrapping his arms around your waist in self-defense more than boldness.

Park Hoomin (Baku):

You walk back from the grocery store, sharing a bag of snack. It’s golden hour, and he’s carrying most of the bags, even the ones you insisted you could handle. He’s wearing a compression shirt that he definitely chose on purpose.

“You know, I could carry some of those.”

“I know. But then you’d miss the view of me being unnecessarily heroic.”

Hoomin never lost an opportunity to be cocky. His cockiness made him even more charismatic in a way.

“Wow. How would I survive. ”

He nudged you with his elbow

“Hey, I’m just lifting the groceries to save your back from suffering, what a good man I am”

“Truly a Greek god in a Trader Joe’s parking lot.”

He laughs warmly, your quick responses is what he loves most about you. The way you can dodge his comments and make better ones.

“You joke, but if carrying your groceries scores me one of those cute smiles, I’ll do it every time.”

You shook your head, his words melting your heart a little, trying not to grin, but it’s still showing a little. He catches it, and you can tell he lives for that moment.

Go Hyuntak:

The tension has been in the air all day long, nothing big but teasing, subtle distance like you’ve been messing with his head on purpose. You’ve been purposely avoiding him after dropping suggestive comments, playing hot and cold and driving him nuts. You’re now finally at his place.

“You’ve been weirdly quiet today, what’s up with that? »

Hyuntak came closer to you

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Doing what?” Your fake innocence was only rilling him more.

“Testing me. Pulling back. Acting like I’m not crawling out of my skin wanting you to just stop teasing.”

You tried to argue back but he cut the distance in between your bodies even more, one hand on the wall behind you.

“You know I don’t do halfway. If you’re gonna look at me like that, teasing me in public, displaying to everyone that we aren’t « just friends ». Then you better be ready when I call you on it.”

Hyuntak was always big on privacy. He gladly agreed to be fuck buddies when you asked for it. He has liked you since grade 1 but knowing it’s not reciprocated, your little games messed with his naturally impatient temper even more.

Bonus! Geum SeongJe

It’s late at night and you’re in his upscale apartment. Cozy, wearing your boyfriend’s jacket like you own it. Waiting for his return home.

He’s came back late from something messy, business or something more dangerous, the kind he doesn’t explain. You’re aware he fights a lot but he likes to come home to some peace.

You’re sitting on his couch, legs curled up,

“You didn’t text. Again.”

Seongje grabs himself a drink, not paying attention to you. “Because you’d worry. And I don’t feel like hearing you lecture me. ”

“So you just disappear?”

“I’m not in the habit of reporting my movements. Not even to you.”

You flinch as he stepped closer to you, eyes sharp, staring you down

“But I watched you from the cameras when I left. All night. You didn’t even open the door. Good girl.”

His low voice has you swallow down your own bitterness. He really had a way to put your behaviour back in place with simple words. He’s close to you now, eyes almost cutting you down, amused by both your anger at him but also how easy he was able to shut you up.

“You’re insane. You know that, right?”

“Probably. But you still haven’t left.”

You don’t move, his finger slides along you jaw, you can’t tell if it’s suggestive or threatening

“You think you want nice. But you don’t. Don’t you love the idea of me possibly being watching you, at any angle, any moment I wish for? I bet that turns you on, and that’s why you stare right at the camera in our bedroom.. when you touch yourself in my absence, hm?”

Your eyes grew bigger and your hear dropped, you felt naked, called out.

“You’re mine. »

[slenbee]

Current Scammers - 12/11/24

Disclaimer: This list is only meant to serve as documentation and reference material so that others know: what to look out for in regards to a scam, and who to block preemptively if you so choose. I do not, in any way, endorse harassment or mass reporting these users. Do NOT do this. I'm serious. DO NOT mass report. Only report these asks if you GET them or ones like them. Thank you.

Part 2

THIS POST IS NO LONGER BEING UPDATED

Please refer to Part 3 for current scammers.

----------

This is the current list of scammers pretending to be Palestinians from Gaza asking for money (USD) through PayPal rather than via an official fundraising site like GoFundMe. Many of these accounts have non Palestinian names attached to the PayPal accounts while using real Palestinian names on tumblr stolen from real people. The accounts that claim to be vetted are in fact, NOT vetted by any well known group or organization, and they will beat around the bush or straight up block you if you ask for proof. All of these scammers follow a similar but slightly 'altered' script, and multiple scam accounts are usually run by one person. They will usually reblog a handful of posts after they join, then not reblog anything else, or give updates on their aid situation (like a normal user would). Also, if you look at their pinned posts, most have comments/replies turned off, and or have comments deleted/removed. I wonder why? :) Here is a comprehensive guide on how to spot these scams.

Thank you to @kyra45 for providing the list. I just wanted to provide the explanation(s) so people are aware of what exactly these people are trying to do and/or how they are 'scamming' others.

Note: Most evidence linked will be call out posts that can usually be found by searching an accounts username on tumblr. If you are suspicious of an ask you receive, I suggest you search their username to see if they've been reported by other users! If you have the time. please take a moment to report the PayPal connected to these scam accounts. Thank you!

----------

index:

A > usually mean a name change.

A + usually means multiple accounts running the same scam.

(banned) blogs will remain as reference/evidence until the newer accounts pop up.

I'm probably flipflopping < and + in places, but you get the idea. lol

----------

Insulin Scams: A guide on how to spot it and where it came from.

@furryreviewearthquake (banned)- Insulin Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence that it's a scam: here and here

@gladysconnoisseurpost (banned)-Insulin Scam - NOT vetted. Asks for PayPal. - Evidence that it's a scam: here and here

weepingwerewolfdestiny (banned) + @maximumdinosaurbouquet (banned)- Insulin Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence that it's a scam: here and here

@foggyruinspost (banned) + @foggyruinsblog (banned) - Insulin Scam - NOT Vetted. Asks for PayPal. - Evidence that it's a scam: here

@daregosh (banned)- Insulin Scam - NOT Vetted. Story stolen. Asks for PayPal. - Evidence that it's a scam: here

@cleversuitsoul (banned)- Insulin Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence that it's a scam: here

@veemiraclettastemaker (banned) + @shaaaliminneedofinsulin (banned)- Insulin Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@profoundcollectionangel (banned) + @supportgazalady (banned) + @perfectlythoughtfulbanana (banned) - Insulin Scam - Asks for PayPal. -Evidence it's a scam: here

@fuzzychildlight > @qualitycherryblossombluebird (banned) - Insulin Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@sitatimohamed (banned)- Insulin Scam - PayPal name (Mohamed Sitati) was previously used by the account yusufzalk (banned). - Evidence it's a scam: here

----------

@janeursular-bakir > @gaza-family1 (banned)- Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here

@magicalbluebirdkitty (banned) - Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@a-mother-of-gaza (banned)- Evacuation Scam -Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@family-of-gaza (banned)- Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@reallyuniquedaze (banned)- Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@maximumtriumphmagazine - Evacuation Scam - Stole images from a real artist. Artist confirmed via e-mail not related. Uses fake gofundme for asking donations. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@perfectlovercat (banned)- Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@makozh (banned)- Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@boldlynumberonejellyfish (banned) - Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@al-rasher (banned) - Evacuation Scam - Fake GoGetFunding campaign. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@fredannuarsblog > @abdullahwahhab - Evacuation Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

----------

@tinytreewombat (banned) - Cancer Scam - Not vetted. Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@cherrylydia (banned)- Cancer Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@dimoral (banned)- Cancer Scam - Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@hltabdallah (banned)- Medical Scam - Uses stolen images. Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here

@superbballoonsalad - Medical Scam - Stolen images. Was previously cherylbieryl. Asks for PayPal. (has deleted their post) - Evidence it's a scam: here

---------- Scammers that have been banished to the shadow realm: gaza-diabetes-childrenhelp -- toopeanutsweets --bitchygardenarcade/holywerewolfgiver -- colorfulgladiatordelusion -- perfectpiratewonderland -- happyladyparadise -- burrningmydreamshelppme -- yusufzalk

Celebrate with me by giving a click to help feed rescue and shelter animals. You can also visit their other click-able options that help breast cancer, hunger, Alzheimer's, and Veterans. :)

[glasvera]

Could you do a smut of president Loki and fem secretary reader?

Oh yeah... that can certainly be arranged ;)

Presidential Feast

President!Loki x Fem!Secretary!Reader

Description: Things are not all they appear to be in the office of the president's secretary. Though you work diligently at your desk, there is a certain someone who works even harder to get you to come undone completely from below.

Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), PWP, public sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

A/N: I blacked out and when I woke up, there were two thousand words of Loki smut on my computer screen. Dunno how that happened. Fair warning, this is barely proofread. I'm just amazed I wrote this in one sitting LOL

Word Count: 2k

“...So, if there is any way I could speak to him directly…”

The saccharine smile wears at the corners of your lips. You’ve worn it for hours now, feigning pleasantries, signing papers, redirecting and avoiding pointless or dangerous questions from the press. You were excellent at keeping face, as it were, but even still…

This job was exhausting.

Maybe it was foolish of you to expect people to use their eyes. President Loki was clearly busy in his office, preoccupied as he leafed through stacks and stacks of backlogged paperwork. You could quite clearly see that through the door’s window. Apparently, most of your appointments, scheduled or otherwise, were incapable of seeing the commander in chief hard at work. Why else would they bother you ceaselessly for a chance to speak with him?

At least your superior had a soft spot for you. A new desk made from gorgeous stained mahogany sits before you, polished to almost a mirror-like shine. It feels sinful to rest your elbows upon it as you lean forward and prop your chin on your wrist.

Though, perhaps it’s not nearly so sinful as what happens beneath.

When the president had procured this desk for you, he ensured it was the best in all aspects. Naturally, this included a spacious, enclosed area for you to stretch your legs. The legroom truly was unparalleled and quite comfortable. If you wanted to, you could easily crouch down and fit underneath. After all, that’s exactly what Loki is doing right now.

While you explain for the billionth time today that the president is not available at present, gesturing to the clone that pantomimes reading documents the next room over, the real Loki kneels between your legs and bites softly at your inner thigh. His teeth drag bluntly over the sensitive skin before he sucks on it, marking you under the mini skirt he’s bunched up around your hips.

“He… he’s clearly quite busy--” You inhale sharply when his tongue laves over the dark bruises he’s created upon the canvas of your legs. The man standing in front of you eyes you curiously with an arched brow. Canines dig into your tongue to stifle the moan at the back of your throat. Loki’s breath is hot against your core through the fabric of your underwear. “--and I am not feeling terribly well. If you could just try again tomorrow--”

“I have been attempting to get a hold of him for three weeks now!” the man exclaims as his face grows red. “This policy needs his attention immediately!”

“Sir, if I might remind you, that is not how the American government works. You would be much better off addressing this with your representative in the House, and--ah-!”

With a hand over your mouth, you bite down on your index finger to muffle any further slip-ups. You can feel the smirk on Loki’s lips as they lead feather-light kisses closer and closer to your folds. Fingers curl into a white-knuckled fist as you grip the edge of your desk.

Thankfully, your current “client” is far too focused on his own agenda to pay attention to your strange behavior.

“That’s exactly why I’m here! I called and called, and I think they blocked my number--”

You barely hear what he’s saying even with his frantic gestures and waving his arms. The man is clearly quite animated about whatever it is he’s going on about. It’s hard to focus on that when your senses hone in on the dextrous fingers that hook in the waistband of your undergarments. It’s a bit difficult while you’re sitting down, but he manages to shimmy them down your hips without too much effort on your part.

Thankfully for you, this man seems more than content to ramble on about how important this proposal is and why it should be the first thing on the agenda. So much so that he begins pacing about the room as he talks.

And then Loki’s tongue flattens and paints a fat stripe through your folds. You’re so glad this guy is turned away from you when your eyes roll back and you clamp your hand over your mouth fully. That accursed, talented appendage zigzags and swirls, drawing patterns all along your slit but never quite high enough where you want it most. He drinks of your nectar, feasts on your essence. Your breath comes out in staggered gasps and your brows knit together.

“Are you even listening to me!?” the man practically shouts, startling you and pulling your attention away from the euphoria between your legs. “I swear, the government these days--!”

“Do you wish for me to deal with him, my dear?” you feel more than hear Loki’s words as he whispers them, his cheek pressed lazily against the plush of your thigh while his verdant green eyes gaze up at you. His lips glisten with your slick, and it makes your head spin with desire. It would be so tempting, so easy…

But you snap out of it and shake your head. No, you wish to do this yourself. It’s part of your job, after all, at least in a roundabout way. And if your intuition is correct, really all you’ll need to do is change your approach.

The real challenge is staying focused while Loki gets back to work lapping at your cunt.

“I understand your frustrations, sir,” you practically coo, removing your hand from your face and leaning forward. You bat your long, fake eyelashes up at him. His demeanor changes instantly and you see his shoulders relax. “I really am listening. You were just so passionate about it that I was taken aback.”

“You… yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just such a serious matter, and no one is listening…” he bemoans.

“Such a mischievous little devil,” Loki purrs quietly. Your legs tremble on either side of his head with the effort it takes to keep yourself composed. “You’re playing this poor man like a fiddle, aren’t you? What a cruel mistress…”  The nearly inaudible chortle rumbles through his lips and onto your dripping core. It sends a shudder through your entire body and prickles your skin.

You make a show of licking your lips before pinching the bottom one between the tips of your canines. Loki is right--you have this man absolutely captivated.

“Here, sweetheart,” you begin, sliding a sticky note towards him. “I’m sorry there’s nothing more I can do today, but that’s my personal cell. Give me a call tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do for you, okay?” It’s almost sickening putting on a show like this, but it might as well be your calling with how easily he buys it. He’s cradling the piece of paper in his hands like it’s some sort of holy artifact as he thanks you profusely and finally makes his exit from your office.

As soon as the door closes behind him, in fact, you finally exhale the breath you were holding with an airy whimper.

“Mm,” Loki moans into your folds. He rewards you with a flick of his tongue at your clit that leaves you digging your nails into the wood. “What a perfect succubus you make. Tell me…” he begins, teasing a finger at your entrance. “Who did that number belong to? I know you wouldn’t dare give such a lowly creature your actual information.”

“It’s--” You keen and bite your lip when his long finger slowly curls into you. “It was your--fuck--” Loki smiles devilishly as your hips buck into his hand. “--your brother’s cell.” Your cheeks flush and you laugh breathlessly. “I imagine that will be quite… quite the conversation tomorrow…”

An almost evil laugh thrums in his chest. “Gods, but I do love that wonderfully deviant mind of yours,” he praises as he begins thrusting the digit in and out. Kitten licks flutter against your sensitive bud, and your toes curl in your heels.

“And I--” you huff, moving instead to grip the more comfortable arms of your office chair, “I need more of that deviant tongue of yours,” you joke breathily.

He slides a second finger into you and begins pressing against the soft, spongy spot, grinning wickedly when he feels your thighs tense around him. “Making demands of your president? How terribly daring of you.”

Words are beginning to fail you even before his lips encircle your clit. Your chest heaves as you whimper with every breath. He sucks on that pleasurable little bud, timing every curl of his fingers with a practiced swipe of his tongue. Ecstasy builds and bubbles in your core, and you try so desperately to contain the sounds that threaten to spill from your lips. Even if no one is here right now, someone could walk in at any moment. That thought shouldn’t thrill you nearly as much as it does, and you feel Loki chuckle as he suckles on your clit.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he purrs. “The thrill, the danger, chasing such forbidden pleasures…” A low whine sounds in your throat as he continues. “I wonder… what would you do if someone were to discover you like this, in the throes of pleasure?” He slows his fingers, instead thrusting with purpose as your walls quiver around them. “Would you stop me?” He knows your answer when you mewl and tighten around him, but he asks anyway. “Or would the desire only intensify as you ride my tongue and desperately chase your release?”

“Loki, fuck--!” You’re so close, so desperately close, hanging off of the precipice as the pleasure below waits to consume you.

But his fingers still inside you, and the flicks of his tongue that punctuated his words cease entirely. The edge was right there, but now you feel it slipping away from your grasp as a mournful wail rings from you.

“That is President Loki to you,” he corrects you before busying his mouth by biting and sucking at the skin of your thighs. “You will address me properly if you want to continue indulging in this… deviant tongue of mine.”

Your breathing is ragged. Your nails are threatening to rip off the padding of your armrests. “P… President…” Your eyes nearly roll back when his fingers drag slowly through your velvety walls. It’s more, but it’s not enough. Your body trembles. “President Loki, please.”

Immediately you feel his fingers thrusting vigorously in and out of your soaked core. Your moaning returns in full force, potential visitors be damned.

“That’s it. You sound so terribly pretty when you beg for me,” he praises. His tongue finds your clit and swirls feverishly about the bud, and you feel all of the pleasure that had begun to fade return tenfold as you grind shamelessly onto his face. It’s a fire roaring in your belly that licks its flames outwards to tingle at your fingers and toes. Loki moans his own appreciation as he slurps and swallows, smacking lewdly as he drinks up everything you give him. The vibrations push you over the edge as you let out a silent scream, mouth agape as your thighs clamp around his head and you buck wildly against his tongue.

Your body slumps in your chair as you stare, dazed, off at nothing in particular. Your chest heaves with the effort of catching your breath. The orchestrator of your undoing merely smirks, licking delicate stripes up your sensitive folds that make you twitch and whimper from the overstimulation.

“What a beautiful mess you make,” he regards you as his tongue collects your essence from his lips. Before you have the chance to reply, to right yourself, he snaps his fingers and vanishes from his place beneath you.

Well, he doesn’t vanish completely.

No, instead he takes the place of his clone, and when your bliss induced stupor finally allows you to glance over through the window into his office, you see him smiling wickedly and patting his face gingerly with a handkerchief. Perfectly composed, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred while you try desperately to recollect yourself from a mind shattering orgasm.

Truly… this job was exhausting. 

[starmocha]

Rock-a-Bye [Sylus + Daughter ★ 1122 words ★ Masterlist ★ Birdie Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Sylus has a stubborn little birdie who won’t go to sleep. A/N: God, I was not prepared for this man to sing “Rock-a-Bye Baby.” My womb and I have not been the same since then.

Sylus sat behind his desk, going over some new intel he had received that night. The door to his office was opened ajar, the hallway dimmed light filtered in. As his eyes skimmed the documents, his deep voice rumbled softly, “Mephisto is in here with me, so who is that little birdie lurking outside my office?”

He smirked when he heard a tiny startled gasp. He looked up just in time to catch a small shadow quickly backing up against the wall to hide.

“Baby,” his voice called out, “come into Daddy’s office.”

He waited, seeing the hesitation from the person outside, and after nearly a minute, he watched his office door opened further, a little girl in a pink nightgown walked into his office looking guilty.

“It is eleven, why are you not in bed, baby?”

“How…did Daddy know it was me?”

Sylus tilted his head in amusement at the little girl’s question, his eyes drifting over to the mechanical crow in his office. His daughter noticed and she instantly stomped her foot. The little girl gave a pout and then she turned and glared at the mechanical bird perched near her father’s desk.

“Mephie tattled on me!”

The mechanical crow looked startled before it lowered its head in shame, giving a sad coo.

Sylus had a hard time hiding his amusement, chuckling at his daughter’s angry pout. “Don’t be mad at Mephisto, baby,” he said calmly, “Look, his feelings are hurt.”

Instantly, the little girl looked guilty for her outburst. She walked over to near Sylus’ desk and reached up on her tippy toes to stroke the crow’s feathers. Her voice was very small and remorseful, “I’m sorry, Mephie…”

Mephisto gave a cheerful caw, earning not only a smile from the little toddler but also her father.

Sylus reached over and patted his daughter’s head gently, smoothing out her hair. “Now, baby, do you want to tell me why you are still awake at this hour? I thought Luke and Kieran had put you to bed.”

“They did…” she responded, looking down at the white kitty cat slippers she was wearing. She shuffled her feet guiltily, and then confessed, “I miss Mommy…”

Sylus’ expression softened, empathizing deeply with the little three-year-old girl. He leaned back in his chair and patted his lap, gesturing for his daughter to come closer. Delighted, the little girl immediately scampered over and raised her arms, waiting for her father to lift her up. Sylus easily picked her up, settling her comfortably on his lap. He smiled when she snuggled closer to him.

“I know you miss Mommy, baby,” he started gently, “but Mommy is away on a mission right now. Didn’t she video chat with you and said good night earlier?”

“It’s not the same,” his daughter replied with a pout, crossing her arms stubbornly. She looked up at her father with wide, pleading eyes, “I want to stay up with Daddy.”

Sylus sighed and shook his head. “Daddy has business to take care of tonight.”

“I can be as quiet as a mouse, Daddy!”

Sylus chuckled and stroked her cheek affectionately, pleased when he heard her sweet little giggles. “I know you can, my little birdie,” he said, but shook his head again, “But this type of business is for grownups only.”

“Okay…” The little girl looked down sadly, her legs idly kicking back and forth as she stared at her kitty slippers.

Sylus stroked her hair to comfort her. “Come on, baby,” he said, “it’s well past your bedtime.”

“What about Daddy’s bedtime?”

“Daddy’s bedtime is in the morning,” Sylus answered curtly, carefully lifting his daughter into his arms as he stood up. She clung to him as he carried her out of his office. Cheekily, she waved at Mephisto as she was taken away. The mechanical crow cooed softly.

“Daddy?”

“What is it, baby?”

“Can’t I stay up with you?”

Before Sylus could respond, he caught sight of Luke and Kieran searching from room to room down the hallways. He stopped, and cleared his throat, alerting the twins.

“Did you two lose a little birdie?” He paused, and added with an exasperated sigh, “Again?”

“Uh, listen, Boss,” Luke started, panicking, “It wasn’t our fault!”

Kieran instantly agreed, “Yeah, we tucked her in real good. We even stood outside the door for ten minutes to make sure she didn’t sneak out again!”

“And yet she escaped. Again.”

“Boss—”

The little girl giggled. “Sorry, Lukey, Kier-Kier…”

Kieran sighed and crossed his arms. “Little Miss, you are lucky you are so adorable.”

Luke interjected, “Don’t worry, Boss, we’ll make sure she’ll go to bed this time—”

“Forget it,” Sylus cut in, already walking past the two. “I’ll tuck her in myself.”

The twins sighed and waved weakly at the smiley, waving girl.

As Sylus approached his daughter’s bedroom, he felt her squirming in his arms. He paused and looked down. “Is this little birdie trying to fly away?”

“Maybe…”

Sylus shook his head and opened the bedroom door. Inside the large room, there were countless toys and books, much too excessive for a little three-year-old girl to have, but money meant absolutely nothing to Sylus when it came to his daughter’s happiness. Sylus walked to the middle of the room where there was a large canopy bed with sheer pink curtains and fairy lights strewn about waiting for its little owner to return. As Sylus tucked his daughter into her bed, he noticed her sulking again. “Baby, it’s almost midnight. You should have been asleep four hours ago.”

“Can I have a song, Daddy?”

“Trying to strike a deal, are you?”

The girl gave her best pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Deal accepted,” Sylus answered, sitting down on his daughter’s bed. He smiled as she snuggled up to him. “You might be the only person around this place who appreciate my singing.”

Sylus smiled when he saw his daughter yawning. Despite her stubbornness the whole night, it wouldn’t take much to finally lull her to sleep. His large hand gently held onto her little hand, stroking it tenderly as his deep voice sung softly, “Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop…”

He watched as sleepy little eyes drifted close as he sang her a lullaby. When he had finished, his daughter was already sound asleep, cuddled up close to him, breathing softly. Sylus took a glance at a clock in his daughter’s bedroom.

He was already running late to the meeting.

The meeting could wait, Sylus decided. After all, the people waiting for him to arrive needed him, not the other way around. He settled more comfortably in bed next to his sleeping daughter, his deep humming the only sound heard in the large bedroom.

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 1.8 chapter index — next chap. masterlist

one

thursday, january 9th

go where the wind takes me. it’s a phrase you’d heard countless times over the years. it eased people, gave them perspective, helped them loosen up. but you? no, it did the opposite. it made you do what you did best—research. what kind of research? the top 100 most successful people and whether they’d ever "gone with the wind." the answer was no. not a single one. going with the wind doesn’t make anyone successful. it leads to dead ends, wrong turns, wasted time—and time was the one thing no one could afford to squander.

the importance of planning everything as meticulously as possible was something that you'd ingrained in your mind at a young age and it had led you exactly where you were. it was the foundation of everything you’d achieved: top of your class, surrounded by like-minded peers, ready for a prestigious summer program, and just a year away from the university of your dreams. everything you’d worked for was at your fingertips. nothing could get in your way now.

"hi, sandy," you greeted the office secretary who watched you struggling to balance a precarious stack of papers in your arms.

"good morning, sweetheart. need help with that?" sandy asked with a warm smile.

"nope, i’ve got it," you replied, setting the stack on the counter with a satisfying thud. carefully, you aligned the papers before placing your palms on top to steady them.

"these are the documents for the student body audit next week. i printed an extra copy for principal oakley, complete with annotations, just in case there’s any confusion."

"always so thorough," sandy remarked with a grin. the compliment made your entire week.

"ah, just who i needed to see." a familiar voice sounded behind you and you twirled around to see principal oakley walking into the office. "oh, good morning, principal oakley." you said, your tone as polished as ever. you barely glanced at the boy trailing behind him before falling into step with the principal.

and yes, following him into his office was a tad unconventional but someone with as much determination and drive as you rarely let things like "innaproriate behaviour" get in your way.

"you are just who i wanted to see too. i know the holidays just ended but i did want to just follow up on my recommendation letter which you'd think about writing, remember?" you fixed your bag on your shoulder as principal oakley sat at his desk and briefly glanced behind you.

"y/n—" the principal tried to interrupt.

you didn't stop talking. "and i know you don't write recommendation letters for your students to keep things fair and whatnot but i—" principal oakley tried to interrupt again but didn't have the chance before you continued rattling. "—hope you reconsidered because i just know that having your letter under my belt will make me stand out to the admissions board and who am i if not representation for our fine school?"

principal oakley cleared his throat and this time you noticed the brief glance behind you. you slowly followed his gaze to see rafe cameron leaning against the doorframe.

your mental file on him loaded instantly: soccer player, tall, messy, and in your opinion, a bit… ran through. still contemporary philosophy like utilitarianism says the morality of having multiple partners depends on whether it increases overall happiness and minimizes harm so you were in no position to shame anyone just trying to increase their own happiness. you suppose.

"oh, was this a bad time?" you asked sheepishly, stepping aside. "not at all," the principal replied. "in fact, this concerns you as well. please, have a seat—and refrain from going into rants until i'm finished speaking." principal oakley says.

frowning in confusion, you complied. sitting beside rafe, you tried to mask your unease. what could he have to discuss with both you and rafe cameron? you weren't very good with uncertainty so sitting still was becoming a challenge as principal oakley rummaged through his desk.

you had to focus on something to stop yourself from panicking so you focused on him. very discreetly. he was so very..unruly. like something hard to contain, just spilling over the edges with his messy hair, that sweater that was not ironed, the shirt under the sweater that was untucked in that untidy way, that smell—woody with a faint hint of vanilla. you liked that smell.

you looked down at your own clothes—a powder blue ruffle top from khaite that you saved for for months and gifted yourself over winter break, off-white pants that were perfectly ironed and fresh from the laundry, hair in a neat french twist. from first sight, you and him were polar opposites.

"alright, y/n," principal oakley finally sat back down, his gaze steady as you watched him attentively. "you know rafe, right?" he asked, gesturing slightly toward the boy seated across from you. your eyes flicked to rafe, who was already staring at you, his expression unreadable.

"uh-huh," you murmured, turning your focus back to the principal.

"well, rafe here has a little problem." principal oakley slid a paper across the desk, and your curiosity spiked as you glanced down. it was rafe's report card.

it was disastrous.

you gasped softly, and rafe let out a noise of protest. "shit, it's not that bad," he muttered, leaning in close to peer over your shoulder at his own grades. the sudden proximity sent a ripple of awareness through you. despite your best efforts to stay indifferent, the intoxicating mix of his scent and the startling lack of male attention in your life was doing a number on your self-control.

"language, mr. cameron. and yes, it really is that bad," principal oakley said firmly. "which is why we need your help, y/n."

you tried to focus, though every nerve in your body screamed for you to stay perfectly still, afraid rafe would pull back. your intrusive thoughts—chief among them being the absolutely insane urge to bury your head in his neck—were becoming harder to suppress. quickly, you straightened and fixed your attention on the principal.

"my help?" you asked, the words laced with genuine confusion.

"the athletic board won’t let rafe play next season if he doesn’t pass at least one of his failing classes. we’ve discussed it with his teachers, and they believe algebra is his best shot. mr. coleman specifically suggested you for the job. he said your grasp of the material is exceptional, sometimes even surpassing his. your work ethic, dedication, and knowledge are exactly what rafe needs to bring his grade up to a satisfactory six—or, with hope, even a seven or seven and a half."

principal oakley's words hung in the air as you processed them. finally, you blinked slowly. "you want me…" you began cautiously, "to take him from a two-point-five to a seven-point-five in five months?"

"that’s like 150 days," rafe interjected, his tone unexpectedly eager. "we can do this! i’ll be the best student, i swear."

we?

"and on which planet is that 150 days, rafe?" you turned to him, your voice tinged with disbelief. "five months is about 150 days, sure. but i don’t know about you, mr. cameron, but i have class every day from eight to three. we have over 15 assignments a month, tests, midterms in march. i’m student body president. i’m organizing spring fling, pajama day, color war, the bake sale, and the car wash fundraiser—where, by the way, i expect the soccer team’s full, enthusiastic participation in semi-nude form for maximum profit. there’s also valentine’s day card exchanges, college fairs, and, oh, right—i have a life. i need to eat, study, and spend enough time with my friends and family to avoid being accused of neglecting them." you folded your arms. "so tell me, rafe, where in that mess do you see time for this?"

rafe stared at you, slightly wide-eyed.

"exactly," you concluded, crossing your legs. "nowhere."

you turned back to principal oakley. "maybe someone could contact the board and ask for len—"

"y/n, this is their leniency. usually, a two-point-five is an automatic cutoff." principal oakley cut you off, his voice calm but insistent. "i wouldn’t be asking if i didn’t believe in you."

the praise softened you momentarily. "principal oakley," you began, reaching into your bag and pulling out your life planner with a flourish. its heft rattled the pens on his desk. "this is my schedule." flipping to the last pages, you tapped a line with a manicured nail. "rafe, read this."

he leaned in, eyebrows raised. "january 20th, 2056: be sworn in as the 59th president of the country."

you smiled, all proud like you'd already achieved it which you technically had since everything that belonged to you was already yours.

"now, as you can imagine, i have a very rigorous plan in place to achieving my final goal and unfortunately, my schedule is just..airtight until.." you grimaced, "atleast 2061, maybe 2065." you were still debating the second term.

rafe chuckled quietly, and you shot him a glare before principal oakley interrupted.

"i assume my recommendation letter holds a significant place in your 30-year plan."

you hesitated. "…it does."

"well, helping your fellow student would demonstrate the leadership and dedication your university looks for. i could write you a glowing recommendation and even personally contact the dean’s office if you agree to tutor mr. cameron."

you froze, your mind flashing with possibilities. the thought of the dean knowing your name—of shaving years off your plan—was too good to pass up.

"fine," you said at last, exhaling. "but i expect nothing short of perfection in that letter. and the dean better invite me for tea when you’re done."

turning to rafe, you leveled him with a sharp look. "every tuesday and sunday at four. take this seriously, or you’ll see how hostile i can get. and read the chapters beforehand. i’ll text you my address."

you strode toward the door.

"you don’t have my number!" rafe called after you, amusement clear in his voice.

"i practically live in this office, rafe!" you shot back over your shoulder. "i have everyone’s number!"

chapter index — next chap. masterlist

[cryptotheism]

Hello, really like Amber Skies. Heard you have a highly structured and well documented amount of lore internally.

How do you structure your worldbuilding notes?

or

What methods do you use to create good worldbuilding?

Thank you, god bless.

The document is divided into six sections of increasing focus. I start broad, and zoom in.

1 - A timeline of events for the entire world.

2 - Broad overviews of cultures, countries, important historical events, and concepts. This is where topics like "The Baqari" and "Teleths" are explained in detail.

3 - Overviews of individual technologies and groups. This is where i cover things like Rig technology, Synthetimancy, The Monks of the Process, etc.

4 - Indexed Errata. This is where I keep things like descriptions of animals, plants, people, characters, and geographical locations. This is mainly for cross-checking shit. Like "The city of Isin is north of Teleth Thadeyn" and "recyclers have six legs" and "Six's full name is 668946-1121." This is also where I keep note of what I know, and what I've revealed to the audience.

5 - In-Universe documentation. This is where I keep writing that a character in the world could potentially stumble across and read. This is where I keep An Addicts Guide to New Babel, The Sword And Its Shortcomings, and all the transcripts of Screw Loose.

6 - The Cutting Room Floor. Concepts for unused elements go here. Never delete anything, they can always be reused.

I guess my main tip for worldbuilding is that the characters are the worldbuilding.

[hotwritergf]

Boyfriend!Eddie finds your porn history. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb🍆

Word count- 1.2k

🍆 “Hey baby.. umm I don’t wanna embarrass you..”Eddie was sprawled across the couch, his limbs representing an octopus whilst his curls fell down the arm of the couch. You had let him borrow your laptop, Dustin had split soda over Eddie’s during their latest dnd campaign. He smiles as he notices your wall-paper is a picture of the pair of you, that trip to the forest was one of your favourites.

“Huh?” You spoke, confusion filling the air. You were easily embarrassed so just the thought of being embarrassed made your face flush. “It’s just, I lost my page I was working on so- so I went on the history page to find it again. But I didn’t just find my campaign document, I saw your umm history. Baby I, I don’t want you to be embarrassed I mean we all do it right?” Your face burns under his words, you know exactly what he’s stumbled across.

“Seriously doll, your choices here.. My innocent little girl, isn’t so innocent huh?”He smirks, eyes gazing over your flushed face. You feel stuck to the floor, like any moment now the ground is going to open up and swallow you whole. “Eddie-“ You finally manage to muster up the courage to speak, your words causing your stomach to churn in shyness. “It’s okay. It’s all okay princess. I’m impressed, I mean let’s see here. ‘Blonde babe worships her step-father’s sweaty balls’ Well that’s filthy isn’t it? ‘Anal training’ Oh? You want me to take that other little hole for a test drive? ‘Double penetration mmf threesome.’ Sweet girl I had no idea you could be so kinky! Look at this here. ‘Submissive girl has play time with Daddy.’ Is that me? I’m your daddy?” He teases, his smirk practically audible in his voice as he teases. Your embarrassed self can’t handle much more. He was never meant to see this, these searches they were just late night curiosity. Late night self pleasure when Eddie couldn’t be there with you.

You nod, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Your hands need to be doing something as the anxiety reaches your throat. You swallow it down and gulp in nervousness as Eddie walks towards you. He takes his hand and caresses your face softly. His touch both exhilarating and comforting under the current circumstances. “You weren’t meant to see that.” You swallow the saliva collected in your mouth. “It’s just… porn. For when you’re not here and I- well you know the rest.” You speak so quietly that you could hear a pin drop in the room, the atmosphere was tense but he couldn’t seem more relaxed. Eddie’s smile beams, under the knowledge they were really your searches and you didn’t try and lie your way out of it.

“And are those the sorts of desires my princess has been having on those oh-so-lonely nights where she’s banished to stay in her castle?” He speaks in his dungeon master voice, running his index finger down your throat, smirking as he watches your throat gulp and the goosebumps appearing down your neck and arms. Your feet feel superglued to the floor, stuck in confrontation you can do nothing but stare at the carpet, looking your boyfriend in the eye seems alien in this moment.

“Yes. But don’t think you have to indulge me! If you’re not comfortable we never have to do any of that. I’ll never force you Eds.” You babble, worrying about every word in your speech sounding patronising or rude. You look up to him, doe-eyed with a hint of regret. He smiles, holding the back of your head softly. Cupping your chin with his finger he raises your head to meet him at eye level.

“Oh darling girl. How naive. I would move the heavens and earth for you. You’re asking me to fill both of your holes, let you call me daddy and worship my balls while they’re sweaty? It’s filthy. It’s a little taboo. Perverse maybe. Letting my girl worship me and being able to spoil both of her holes with pleasure? It’s a mere inconvenience, I mean you’re really gonna have to pay me back for this sweetheart you know.” Eddie jokes, speaking in his dungeon master voice again. Knowing that voice always flusters you, as if you needed to be any more flustered.

Staring at the floor, “So you’re okay with it?” You ask earnestly. “More than okay. In fact, come to think of it.. I haven’t showered yet today. Definitely haven’t shaved my balls in ummmm ever? How about you take that pretty face of yours down there and make your daddy feel good?” You needed no further encouragement, you’d already been hiding your arousal from the embarrassment of being found out about your kinks, humiliation being another one.

You unbuckled and shimmied off Eddie’s jeans, palming him through his boxers as he grunts your name and several curse words. He was hard as a rock already, and a small wet patch over his boxers where he’d begun to leak a bead of pre-cum. Instincts took after and you licked up the wet stripe of his underwear, vaguely tasting his salty fluid. With your face so close to his underwear clad genitals, you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. The odour of sweat and pre-cum mixed together was your perfect aphrodisiac. Nestling your face into his hard on, you inhale all you can of him. Eddie slides off his boxers and takes his cock into his hand, jerking it slowly whilst looking down at you. You look up with ‘fuck me’ eyes and a cheeky smile, removing his hand from his length.

You lean upwards, placing your nose under his cock. His pubes tickle your nose as you lick circles over his fuzzy balls, swallowing the loose hairs that collect on your tongue. “Dirty fucking girl aren’t you? So gross.” Eddie mutters through his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. You smirk, all innocence leaving your body. You steady your hand on the tip of his cock as it begins to leak again, taking one of his balls into your mouth and suckling as if it was a pacifier. You speak as best as you can whilst sucking onto him. The noises you make aren’t translate-able, they’re more-so moans and groans. “Don’t speak with your mouthful angel.” Eddie coos, taking your hair into a ponytail and holding it behind your head. He forces his ball out of your mouth and guides your mouth onto his cock. “M’so close.” He grunts as he fucks your mouth, pulling you backwards and forwards onto his dick so far down your throat that you’re gagging. You slurp up the salvia that begins to dangle from his length. He comes undone in your mouth, emptying the fuzzing balls that were once in your mouth and you taste the liquid that you’ve had a hunger for. A rope of cum hangs from your lip and he wipes it up with his finger, before helping you swallow the last drop from sucking it up off of his finger.

“Thank you daddy.” You look up at Eddie with a shit-eating grin like butter wouldn’t melt. “My good little girl.” He responds, you mentally thank yourself for never clearing your search history. 🍆

[ilium-ilia]

Everything You Touch

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | previously known as "soft spot" | masterlist

Chapter Two: handkerchiefs and ichor

tw: wounds, blood

Simon can’t stop staring at you. 

It’s a bad cut. It slices deep, ripping through the delicate skin of your bottom lip and leaving behind nothing but a long, vertical cut. Dark, crunchy scabs clog the wound, and your tongue keeps prodding at the inside of your mouth as if the movement will calm the ache. It appears a day or two old—too fresh for comfort—but it doesn’t stop there. Along your collarbone, just barely peeking out from underneath your shirt, lies a scratch. Infected, the puffy skin screams from the abuse of some dull object—like fingernails had raked across your skin not too long ago. 

Anxious fingers tap against the countertop as you await Simon’s response, and he notices the nail on your index finger is short. Broken. The tip is jagged, torn off uncomfortably close to your nail bed, revealing cracked skin. There’s another scratch on your wrist playing peekaboo beneath the sleeve of your blazer, one that you can’t stop awkwardly rubbing at with the pad of your thumb as if the motion is the only emollient comfort you have. 

“Simon?” 

Your voice pulls him out of his head as if you’ve yanked him up from beneath the waves of the ocean, and his eyes stop wandering over your body. He looks back at your face—your eyes are slightly red. The left one has swollen so much that he’s surprised you can open it. Simon tries to keep his gaze from wandering to your busted lip, but your tongue continues to swipe over it as if it covets the taste of old blood. 

“The usual?” you ask again. 

“What happened?” he questions as his fingers fiddle with his ID. 

A sour chuckle leaves you as you cast your gaze down at the counter. “Suppose that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?” 

When you look back up at Simon, his gaze is stony and unrelenting. His hands continue to play with the document you need to have in order to process his withdrawal as if it’s a statement—he’s not going to relinquish it until you answer him. He’ll play hostage with his ID all day long if he needs to. 

“I got a little drunk last weekend at the pub. Might have biffed it on the curb walking home,” you explain with a tense chuckle and dry humor. “Really, it’s rather embarrassing, so… don’t go telling all your friends or anything.” 

It’s more than that. Simon knows these wounds all too well. He knows how easily skin can split beneath hardened knuckles—he’s done it himself. He has watched the way flesh parts, and how it spews a river of blood to drink from. There have been countless nights at home and days on the field where he’s nursed similar wounds, and he knows better than anyone else that cuts like that are caused by more than just pavement. More than just some drunken mishap. 

Still, he’s not about to accost you at work over it. Instead, he sets his ID on the counter where his fingers slowly press it close to you. Those dark eyes of his don’t leave you once. You’ve become a specimen. This interesting creature he’s suddenly found himself fascinated with—dissecting the rawest parts of you until he knows you inside and out. 

Simon hums in response to your fabricated story as you gingerly grab his ID and do your usual routine of retrieving his money. The raw tip of your finger makes you type slower than normal, and your teeth keep poking out to chew on your lip as if you’re nothing but an animal who can’t stop licking her wounds. It’s never going to heal properly if you keep gnawing on it, but he keeps that thought to himself while you work. 

In no time, you’re holding that simple envelope in your hands for him to take. Despite the obvious pain that trails behind your movements, you still smile at him, lopsided and all. Still stuck on you, he stares at your injuries as if he can heal each abrasion and cut by sheer will alone. It’s fleeting—this idea that he can mend you—and he pushes the thought out of his brain as he swipes the cash from your hand and shoves it into his pocket like normal. 

Simon starts to turn, ready to go about his normal civilian-like life, but before he can leave, a pit forms in his stomach. Thick agita writhes beneath his diaphragm where it screams a cacophonous song. Something’s missing—vanished into thin air as if it was nothing but smoke and mirrors. Every part of him screams for him to find it and put it back—

—you haven’t said goodbye yet. 

That’s when he notices the blood dribbling down your chin. Whatever crusting scab that formed over your split lip has cracked, sending a steady flow of blood from your mouth. Cautious fingers touch the sudden wetness on your face and you curse as you begin to spill all over the counter. Simon’s never been one to get queasy, but the sight of your ichor spewing onto the granite countertop fills him with an indignation he can’t quite name. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, Simon suddenly finds himself offering you his handkerchief. The cloth sits between his fore and middle fingers as his hand stiffly extends it for you to take. 

“Here.” 

It used to be white when he first bought it. It’s since been stained by various things over the years, and it even sports some fraying on the edges. It’s clean, at least. And still, your voice is small when you mutter: 

“I’ll ruin it.” 

Whatever lively tone you attempted to conjure vanishes. You’re composed of nothing but distant eyes, a swollen lip, and a voice that fractures easier than bones beneath a boot. In the time that it had taken Simon to travel halfway across the world and commit acts that continue to keep him up at night, you’ve changed. Changed in a way that leaves a sour taste on his tongue, like the tart brass of discharged bullets. 

“Just take it,” he presses. The cloth still hangs limply between his fingers like a flag without wind. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow the blood coating your tongue. You bring yourself to take the handkerchief from him, and you promptly place it against your face before you can make a bigger mess than you already have. Oxygenated blood stains the off-white cloth with a bright vermillion. Every single fiber of it soaks the liquid up as if it’s soil drinking water. 

“Thank you,” you say, the words almost failing to leave your marred lips. 

Simon pauses. It should be him saying those words. You gave him his money. All he did was give you a shitty handkerchief. 

“Keep it,” he says with a wave of his hand. 

“Have a good one, Simon,” you bid as he turns away. 

“You too,” he murmurs. 

He can hear the smile in your voice as you whisper back. “I’m trying.” 

Once he gets home—back to those same suffocating walls with stains that morph into monsters in the night—Simon tries to forget about it. About you. There’s no time or energy in his busy life to even attempt to care for, or about, someone. He can’t be worrying about you and your… situation. He can’t afford to curse the hands that tore you to shreds. If he tried to stop and care for every kicked puppy he’s found, he wouldn’t even have the space to breathe. 

So he distracts himself. It’s a talent he’s curated over the years—focusing on what he needs and ignoring what he can’t bear to entertain. It’s easy for him to mitigate contriteness; usually. After all, it’s not as if he was the one who caused those injuries, and if you care enough to lie about how you received them, then he’s not to blame for turning a blind eye. 

So then why does this incertitude plague him so much? How do you worm your way into the grey matter of his brain so easily? Have you rusted a chink in his armor? 

No, you’ve done nothing of the sort. You’re just familiar. Something he can count on to always be the same—predictable. It’s just jarring when you’re splattered with blood when you’re usually unsullied. You’re one of the only stable things in his life—he knows you’ll sort yourself out eventually. 

At least, he thought so. 

When Simon arrives at the bank the following week, you’ve morphed into something so different he swears he doesn’t recognize you when he hops in line. You’re beaming—bright and coruscant. The cut on the side of your mouth has dwindled into a minor scab, still throwing your smile off as you grin at him. Excited hands swim around in the pockets of your pants as he cautiously approaches you, wary eyes put off by your sudden giddy nature. 

“I got you something,” you share as if it’s a secret. 

Simon’s eyes stay unchanged as you display your… gift. You hold out a small, square piece of fabric like a child showing off their school art project. Crisp folds crease the dark cloth, but he’s still able to make out the cartoon dogs patterned into it. The creature has large, exaggerated eyes and a blush-pink tongue hanging from its mouth. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pathetic thing looks like it should be put out of its misery.

“Figured you needed another one after I ruined the one you gave me,” you say as you wiggle it in your hands, all but begging for him to take it. “You also strike me as a dog person, so this seemed fitting.” 

Much to your surprise—and his—Simon reaches out and plucks the handkerchief from your fingers. A calloused thumb brushes over the fabric before he scoffs and shoves it haphazardly into his back pocket. 

“Shouldn’t have gone through the trouble,” he mutters. 

Getting straight to business, Simon hands you all the necessary documents to make his weekly withdrawal. As you grab his ID, he notes your nail is still chipped short on your index finger, but your nail bed looks less angry about the trauma. Still, you’re able to type faster than you were able to last week, and the swelling in your eye has nearly dissipated. 

“Run into any more poles over the weekend?” Simon softly inquires. 

Pausing, you look at him with your eyebrows drawn together. “Huh? Oh, yeah uhm… not this weekend,” you answer with awkward humor. 

Simon hums as he crosses his arms over his chest. Somehow, he looks broader like that. Thick arms fight against the fabric of his jumper as his scapulas rustle beneath his skin. You pay no mind to it as you count the cash and slip it into the envelope as usual. 

“Good,” he deadpans.

The problem with lying isn’t that it’s seen as an improper thing to do—it’s that it’s often difficult to keep up the narrative. By the sound of it, you’re out of practice. It’s all too easy for Simon to catch your mistake. How last week you lamented about falling on the curb of a street, and how you didn't correct him when he changed the narrative this week. It only further proves his point that only another pair of hands could rip you to shreds the way you were wounded last week. 

But he already knew that. And so do you. 

“See you next week!” you dismiss. 

And you’re right. Simon does see you the week after that. And the one after that, and after that. Each time he sees you, the cut mends a little more until it’s nothing but a scar, and as your body heals, so does your mind. You talk more than just your regular customer service autopilot, and somehow he finds it endearing. Of course, you do most of the talking while he listens, but every now and then he forces you to indulge in one of his rather dry, macabre jokes. Your laughter almost sounds legitimate. 

But dubiety begins to gnaw at the back of his skull each time he sees you. You’re too amicable. Too close. He’s got no one but himself to blame for it—for not nipping your generosity in the bud before it bloomed. Roses are much more difficult to pluck when they’ve grown thorns. And still, there is this glimmer of indifference that smothers his paranoia out. Maybe a little comradery with a stranger isn’t such a bad thing. 

Until it is. 

“Would you want to go to the pub with me after work tonight?” 

October has brought out not only a sharp chill in the air, but also your decorating skills. Halloween themed jelly stickers line the drive up window behind you with orange pumpkins and dismembered skeletons, and though it’s only halfway through the month you’ve already prepared for the season with a bowl of candy sitting on the counter next to you. 

Then, there’s you, swaddled in a large jack-o-lantern themed knitted sweater to stave off the algid wind, and a look in your eyes that screams why did I open my mouth? 

“The pub on twenty-first just started selling their seasonal Halloween drinks,” you explain further. Twitchy fingers reach up to rub at the back of your neck as you bounce on your heels, squirming beneath Simon’s steely gaze. “They had this really nice mix last year with the theme of like, vampires? I’ve been dying to try it again but none of the girls here want to come with me, and I really hate going anywhere like that by myself, and—I dunno—I thought I’d ask you?” 

Simon mulls over your rapid fire proposition as if he’s actually considering it. You watch the gears turn in his brain and his mouth twitch beneath his mask as you painfully await your rejection. It’s a stupid thing of you to ask, yet the words slipped out of your mouth of their own volition. You had almost finished his transaction before saying something doltish. It’s one of your undesirable traits—how much you talk. How everything just spews out of you like a hose. Your garrulity will be the end of you someday. 

If it’s not the end of you today. 

“What time?” Simon asks. 

You blink up at him with parted lips and wide eyes—dumbfounded. A gauche laugh expels from your throat as you look down at your hands. Your index finger almost looks good as new. 

“Not sure. Six thirty? Does that… does that work?” you stutter. 

Nodding, Simon slips his hands into his pocket. “See you at six thirty,” he confirms. 

Neither of you share any other pleasantries before he exits the building, leaving you to stand there with a thudding heart and staticky brain. Your mind wanders vagariously, giving you little time to process the mess you’ve just thrown yourself into before your next customer takes Simon’s spot in line. Perspiration plagues you as you go about the rest of your morning, all while pretending everything is like normal. 

Except it’s not. Your life has been far from prosaic for the last few months—the scar on your lip is proof enough for that. Between severing Eric out of your life, and trying to pick up the fractured pieces of it, you’ve been caught in a mess of your own design for ages and you’re still trying to figure out how to escape. But now your big mouth has roped you into something you’re not sure you’ll be able to get out of. 

“Did I hear you correctly earlier? Did you seriously ask that masked bloke out for drinks?” 

By lunch time, your co-worker—Méabh—is all over you. She leans against your desk on her elbows while trying to adjust her short auburn locks. Her chair squeaks beneath her weight as she wiggles, nearly vibrating out of it. She’s slightly too close to comfort, gossiping with you as if the walls have ears. Sage eyes watch you carefully as she greedily awaits your answer. 

“His name is Simon,” you correct while stabbing your pitiful salad with your fork. 

“So you did!” she confirms, aghast. “Doesn’t he scare you? You know, the size of him and all? And the fact he always comes in with that weird mask?” 

Méabh is a kind enough girl, and a good co-worker, but her youth has her saying things that make you grimace. You swallow a mouthful of food before answering. 

“He’s just a man, Méabh,” you remind her. 

“Yeah. I suppose he can’t be much worse than… well, you know,” she concurs before biting into her glossy lips. “You’re not worried, though? Meeting up with him? Alone? I can lurk around if you need someone.” 

Her proposition is absurd enough to rip a laugh from your lungs. Tapping your fork against the container of your salad, you look up at Méabh as you roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine. It’s a public place. I’m certainly not going to take him home to shag.” 

Méabh’s titter is sweet like fresh apples as she pushes herself away from your desk. “Well, alright. But you’re sure you can trust him?” 

You nod solemnly as you stare at the center of your desk. A small scratch mars the faux wood; you scrutinize its existence so fiercely that it’s a miracle it doesn’t burst into flames. 

“It’s his eyes,” you say softly. “His presence is strong, but you can always tell a lot about a person by their eyes. He’s got… kind eyes.” 

It’s a silly thing to admit out loud, but it’s all you’ve been able to think about since you’ve met Simon Riley. Though they’re rather tenebrous, his gaze has been nothing but soft when he looks at you. There is no biting dullness like you’re used to with Eric, and though there’s not exactly ardor in them when he observes you, he’s certainly not virulent. 

Sighing, you push these pitiful realizations out of your mind as you finish your lunch. There’s still work to be done, and when tonight comes you’ll head to the pub for a few drinks before heading home—alone. This is no big event, though Méabh would attempt to swindle you into believing otherwise. You are simply going out to meet someone you can maybe call a friend, then arrive back at your bare apartment to rot in bed for the rest of the night.

That’s it—nothing more, nothing less.

follow @mother-ilia to be notified of updates | get early access to chapters here

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

DEEP DESIRES 🦊 ADULT! KUROSAKI ICHIGO X F! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 5: DADDY/MOMMY

🐙 requested by: anonymous. Sorry! Female reader, I really don't mind which you choose 😅Day 5: kinda like a breeding kink, but focused on the idea of both of them becoming "mommy" and "daddy" gets off on referring to reader as a future mommy, wants her to call him daddy 👀 ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. adult! ichigo. he is already married. passionate/ kinda rough love making. pregnancy mentioned. oral. fingering. vag sex. creampie implied. mommy and daddy terms used. 🐙 wc: 1k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

An October afternoon, fully depicting what autumn could provide, found your tired bodies from work, laying on the couch. What was happening on the tv in front of you, became irrelevant, merely background noise.

Soft, orangey light of a fall sunset, filled that tiny apartment. It was cozy; it was, perhaps, too little. Yet, it was enough for the both of you…

Your cheek landed on Ichigo’s lap; it was beautiful to look up and see his tangerine hairs shine with an equal toned sun light. Tiny freckles on his cheeks, also mapping his skin like stars in the sky. Such a handsome man, a strong, good man. Who wouldn’t like to make him the father of your child?

Father… of my child…

His hand, pretty much on the manly and veiny side but still delicate, slid from your back down and into your belly. It was easy for him as you lay on your side, resting on his lap, snuggled while he sat back in that tiny couch.

“I don’t wanna keep translating that document… I don’t feel like doing anything” he complained about his job; small talk to fill the ambience, to deviate a sudden thought that had invaded his mind just now.

“Then don’t; just rest for now” you murmured, planting a sweet peck on his leg. Your nails traced patterns on his knee, coming up towards his crotch like a crawling trail of playful naughtiness.

“Or you could “do” me” you continued, giggling oh so innocently. Ichigo blinked a couple of times; his eyes were hit directly by the sun, turning them into fire. Maybe, the same fire burning inside him. He looked at you, with a playful glint in those orangey beads, and pressed your belly softly down.

“Well, what I was thinking actually is to “make” you, a mother” he informs; he has never been this ready in his whole life.

You gasped, softly. Of course, you thought of it before, and somehow, something inside of you made sure to be absolutely ready as well.

Slowly, and maybe a little bit sexily, you stood up from your “worm” position. You crawled on Ichigo’s lap, a bouncy one since your silence had made him a little anxious. Your index finger traced a line down his jaw, with a naughty smirk on your lips.

“You wanna make me a “mommy”, “daddy”? you asked, never once you had spoken that perverted.

Ichigo inhaled a big gasp of air through his straight nose, closed his eyes for some seconds, and once he had calmed himself his sight fixed back on you. Sloppy eyelids, and a serious façade tinted his face.

His fingers buried deeply into your hip sides; it was as if he was barely controlling himself, almost as if a single movement from you could unleash a beast, a Vasto Lorde perhaps…

And indeed, what a beast your husband can be

Still in silence, he lifted you up, carrying your weight over his broad shoulder towards the room you both share. He can be as sweet and delicate, as the total opposite; and, that day, Ichigo seemed to have picked the wild side.

You flew from his shoulder to the bed. The mattress received your body, engulfing you into its softness.

“Spread those legs for me, because believe me today you WILL become a mommy” Ichigo said, crawling in between your open thighs.

You were both startled and excited; how delicious was to see your man so desperate to stuff you and create an eternal bond from both of your bloods.

“Ba-babe… yes” you stuttered in between some giggling, as he ripped your shorts and underwear off.

He lifted your legs and let them fall on top of his shoulders. Kneeled, Ichigo positioned himself to desperately access your core with his tongue. With a hand on your lower belly, pressing down as he sucked, he made your back arch, and your mind go blank.

On the verge of explosion, he stopped, only to use his fingers. Sliding them inside your core, he enjoyed the total raptured expression on your face.

From your lips, mindless words were coming out; Yet Ichigo wanted to be called, to be referred in a rather different way… if this was the case in which you were becoming a future “mommy”, then a proper term must be used to named him as well.

His hand got your cheeks, pressing them with a delicate violence.

“You know how much I like to imagine you as a mommy, mh?” he asked, as his curled fingers hit in beckoning motions your G spot.

“I didn’t know… babe I… ngh” you answered, or rather babbled.

He frowned; taking his fingers from you, letting you rest for maybe a couple of seconds while he took of his shirt and unzipped his pants.

As always, you ended up dazed, in awe for the detailed perfection of your husband’s anatomy; a substitute Shinigami that should be a captain, well trained, strong, delicious.

His chest, garnished by beads of sweat, went up and down as his heart pumped rapidly and oxygen seemed not to be enough to supply his growing erection. He had not been touched, but he was burning from desire.

And as hard as his abs, that was exactly how his sex, impressively erected, presented to you. “Daddy” seemed eager to accomplish such status…

Slapping open your legs, he slid in between them. His hands fell on each side of your face, and his sunset hair framed a desperate face. Panting, almost unable to stop his hips from searching your entrance, he simply stated a couple of words;

“From now on, you will call me daddy… because that’s exactly what it takes to make you a mommy…”

A thrust that you swore it could had pierced your organs took you by total surprise; the deliciousness of that first intrusion, made you carve marks on his wide back. Red marks for sure were left there.

All Ichigo’s body weight was carried by his spasming arms, that you from time-to-time bite as he kept ramming into you.

“Ichi- Daddy, I’m close… please, don’t stop…” you begged, hugging his waist with your legs, carving your heels on the small of his back.

Climax was closer, your walls spasmed, your muscles trembled and your back arched.

“Daddy isn’t stopping until mommy is very, very full of his cum…”

And indeed, that little apartment soon turned into a bigger home; it became pretty little for daddy, mommy and that little thing coming its way…

Taglist of amazing babes: @awas-posts @missfuriosa @theneighbourhoodferret @cyberdazetragedy @ariesbbytings @animesnowstorm @lenablack9919

[lia-linny]

summary: How do you get a guys who always fails to pass his final exams? Quite simply, you promise him a date.

genre: fluff, highschool au

words: 4.3k

Ms. yln and Mr. Yang, please stay to see me after class." yn heard her professor say as she carefully filed her documents from the previous lesson in her folder and put it in her school bag. After she had also packed her pencils, she made her way to the desk as instructed by her professor. With her head bowed, she made her way through the rows, between her talking and packing classmates, some of whom smiled at her in a friendly manner.

When she came to a halt in front of her professor, her gaze fell directly on Yang Jeongin, who was leaning casually against the wall next to the desk in his stylish baggy clothes. His penetrating gaze was on her and she nervously clutched her books, which she had pressed to her chest, while she now looked at her professor, who was still sorting through his papers. When he had carefully organized them, he turned to his two waiting students and smiled kindly as he pulled two sheets of paper from his folder.

Ah, so there was her essay, yn realized. She had wondered why she had come away empty-handed when the professor had handed out the corrected texts.

"Once again, you have delivered an outstanding text, ms yln. It really was one of the best texts I have ever read on the subject at school. Your formulations and observations are truly remarkable." smiling, yn looked at the red score in the top right-hand corner of her text, which read 100/100.

But she didn't have time to thank her professor for his kind words, as he immediately went to return Jeongin's text as well. Yn caught a glimpse of the pages covered with corrections written in red pen and could clearly make out the score on his paper, 18/100. yn felt her heart grow heavy with pity and looked down at the floor in shame.

"Mr. Yang you have to do better or you won't pass your final exams. I've heard that you don't exactly excel in other subjects with my colleagues either. You have potential but you have to work harder." There was a brief, awkward silence, but when Jeongin looked up from his paper, neither the poor grade nor the professor's words seemed to bother him much. He merely shrugged his shoulders and buried his hands deep in his trouser pockets. Her professor sighed, but continued.

"That's why I think it would be a good idea for you to seek tutoring. If you want to pass your exams, you need to study and since it seems to me that you share almost all your classes with ms. Yln, it would be an incredible opportunity for you to get tutoring from her. So if ms. yln would be so kind and give up her time for you, you should definitely take this chance!" With that, he ended his little lecture and shooed them both out of his classroom with a curt wave of his hand and a smile.

They stood awkwardly next to each other outside the door, not quite sure what or who should say something, until yn decided to break the silence.

"I can tutor you if you want, but you can find someone more qualified if you prefer..." Jeongin laughed and tapped his index finger on the essay with her books pressed against her chest, as if that was proof enough that she was probably good enough for the job.

"Is Friday a good fit for you?" he asked and yn just nodded dumbly, not sure how to deal with the situation.

"Great. I'll come to your place after school." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you." He winked goodbye to her and walked to his popular group of friends, who were standing just a few meters away from them in the corridor crowded with students, leaving a red-faced yn behind. Why did such a banal gesture from him and the thought of the upcoming tutoring sessions have such an impact on her that even after her next lesson had already started and she was hunched over her papers in the classroom, she could still feel her pulse racing?

It wasn't completely absurd. Jeongin was popular, cool and casual. But even though he was one of the good-looking boys that everyone adored, he was always nice and helpful and yn liked that, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He sometimes acted like he was the coolest, but the next moment he tripped over his own feet and was restlessly teased by his friends and that made him likeable.

Yn ran her hands through her hair with a sigh and buried her face in her hands. Oh God, it was all such a huge cliche. She couldn't help but rool her eyes at herself. The girl that had never even given a second thought to a boy and then the 'one' came along. She should be concentrating on the lesson that had already started rather than thinking about boys. It was a waste of time to deal with such things. Her focus, especially now that she was in her final year, should be on grades and studying. Not some fictional romance.

But there was something about Jeongin that had piqued yn's interest for years. All the years they had been going to school together, attending classes together and occasionally having short conversations on the bus or in the hallway, yn had always wished she could be closer with him. She couldn't quite define it, but Jeongin had an attractive aura in her eyes. Yn shook her head and mentally returned to the lesson. Even though she already had a nervous feeling in her stomach when she thought about friday. Maybe because she had a feeling that Jeongin might be the person who could destroy her efforts to always put learning above personal relationships.

~☆~

Nervously, yn plucked at her skirt, which she thought was a little too short, and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her and Jeongin's last lesson for Friday had just ended. She didn't know what to expect. She had talked to Jeongin again and again over the week. Small talk that left her nervous and embarrassed, already regretting what she had just said, or rather stuttered.

She stuffed all the books and documents she wanted to go through with Jeongin into her school bag and stowed the rest in her locker. She was just about to close the locker door when she felt an arm around her shoulders. Startled, her head whirled around and she stared directly into Jeongin's amused face.

"Hey beautiful, ready to try and teach me something?" He laughed and Yn felt her cheeks glow with heat as he grinned mischievously at her. One of his friends, Hyunjin, with whom Yn was attending her art class, shouted across the corridor to her

"Good luck! We've all given up and come to the conclusion that Jeongin has the IQ of a walnut." Together with one of hid friends, Minho, he laughed at the comparison.

"I'll do my best." So she just mumbled, smiled shyly at him and buried her nose in her book as if it were her shield. She made her way to the bus stop, as she did every day. Jeongin walked silently beside her and used the pleasant silence to look at yn. At first she didn't notice that he was staring, but when she caught his gaze in the corner of her eye, she became even more nervous.

When the two of them arrived, the bus was already waiting and yn climbed through the door as usual to drop into one of the seats at the back. Jeongin sat down in the empty seat next to her. He casually let his backpack slide to the floor and made himself comfortable in his seat. Yn couldn't turn away from him. Why did he have to look so cool as he absently ran his fingers through his hair and now looked over at her. Their eyes crossed... but the moment was ruined by the bus driving off, which left Yn unmoved and equally unimpressed, but caused Jeongin to lose his balance from the unexpected jolt and hit his head on the seat in front of him. Gone was the cool and casual aura that had just surrounded him. After yn made sure that he was okay and that he had no injuries other than to his ego, she let out a snort.

"Just for your information, that looked incredible ridiculous." She laughed and even though his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful her laugh was, how her eyes lit up or her dimples showed.

"Hey, I never look ridiculous!" He said, playfully offended, and poked her in the side. From that moment on, the slight tension that had previously lingered in the air fell away from them completely. They chatted casually for the rest of the bus ride and when they finally arrived at Yn's house, they were greeted by her mother.

Yn showed Jeongin the way to her room. After opening the door, she put her backpack down next to her desk. Meanwhile, Jeongin inspected her room a little more closely. It was nicely furnished but kept relatively simple. No colors that stood out, no cluttered shelves, nothing that really seemed to say 'this is yn's room'. He couldn't deduce any hobbies or favorite music from her room and that puzzled him.

"What hobbies do you have?" he asked out of nowhere. Yn turned to him and looked at him in surprise.

"Why do you ask?" She laughed and Jeongin sat down on her bed without being asked.

"You know, usually one can tell what people our age like to do or what music or films they are into when you look at their room. Posters or some sports trophies or something, but there's nothing in your room. Your room is so... impersonal." Yn let her gaze wander to the floor and shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Well... I'm actually just studying all day... so I don't have much time for hobbies." Silence followed. Jeongin had always thought that she was one of those students to whom everything came naturally, who always got top grades without having to do anything. But it seemed that she sacrificed a lot for her good average, especially her youth.

"What would you like to do? Is there nothing you enjoy?" She hesitated for a moment, then dropped onto the bed next to him and replied hesitantly,

"Well... I like taking photos." He had to smile, but before he said anything back, he changed the subject.

"So, shall we start studying?" she asked and was glad that he seemed to understand and didn't ask any more questions.

When Jeongin went home, it was already dark and yn had to admit to herself that the past few hours had shown her that learning could also be fun. Jeongin had made a real effort to follow her explanations and had always lightened the mood and joked around with her during short breaks. Even though, or perhaps because, he sometimes seemed to talk faster than he thought, she had rarely laughed as much as she did with him and the mere thought of how his hand had brushed against hers a few times made her giggle in retrospect.

One thing was certain. She was looking forward to the coming tutoring sessions, even if he was turning her into a clichéd teenage girl who was incapable of anything except drooling over guys.

~☆~

The weeks of the school year just flew by. Every Friday, yn gave Jeongin tutoring. Usually in the small café not far from the school. Jeongin had shown it to her during one of their lunch breaks, which they spent together more and more often. Every week while they were studying together, yn ordered a milkshake and a chocolate chip cookie. Jeongin insisted on paying to thank her for tutoring, but yn refused to accept the offer, which led to Jeongin deciding that the loser of rock paper scissors had to pay. This always managed to make yn laugh when she and Jeongin had a dramatic battle and the winner made fun of the loser a little too much afterwards.

The two of them hit it off straight away. It was as if something had just clicked between them. They teased each other and laughed about trivial topics. Jeongin's grades improved dramatically, even though he was still only just about to fail. But no matter how much fun yn had at her tutoring sessions, she couldn't forget that her final exams were getting closer with every passing week, so she spent the remaining days of the week holed up in the city library. It wasn't as if she had much else to do. She had no close friends she wanted to hang out with, no hobbies she wanted to pursue and she turned down almost all of Jeongin's invitations to meet up outside of her tutoring. Because no matter how much she wanted to hang out with him, there was always this little voice in the back of her head telling her that she should be studying instead of having fun.

~☆~

Like every other day, yn walked to the bus stop after school to go to the nearby library, but today she was called back by Jeongin in the parking lot. Puzzled, she turned around and saw him waving his car keys in the air, almost dropping them, which made Chris next to him laugh. He had to chuckle himself, even though an embarrassed blush adorned his cheeks.

"I've got a car now. If you want, I can drive you to the library... I promise that i won't disturb you." He giggled. It wasn't an arrogant 'I have a car' like most guys at her school would say but a pragmatic fact and yn liked that a little too much. That he didn't have to brag or boast about what an expensive car he drove, but simply offered her a ride. Her cheeks flushed pink as Jeongin's friends began to whistle and playfully run their hands through his hair.

"I never thought our baby would pull a girl." one of his friends laughed. yn thought she remembered that his name was Seungmin. Jeongin pushed him away.

"You're not even a year older than me." he laughed.

"You're still our baby!" roared one of his other friends, called Changbin. Jeongin struggled away from his friends and stood in front of yn, embarrassed.

"Please let's just go!" He sight a little annoyed by his friends. She smiled at him and nodded. He led her to his car and took a seat behind the steering wheel while she made herself comfortable in the passenger seat. The drive to the library was relaxed. The two of them had a casual conversation and laughed. Jeongin made her feel a certain lightness that made her skin tingle and her cheeks glow.

He parked right in front of the building and together they strolled into the old house. Yn immediately spread out her things in their usual place and Jeongin dropped into the chair next to her. Yn began to study, going through notes and researching background information in books. But one thing kept throwing her off track. Jeongin, who didn't even try to observe her unobtrusively but stared at her shamelessly as she studied. She felt her hot cheeks despite the cool temperatures in the unheated library.

Carefully, Jeongin let his hand slip over hers and the next moment he intertwined their fingers. Yn looked up from her notes and held her breath. Jeongin grinned at her shyly but with a certain self-confidence and Yn felt her rapid heartbeat pounding against her ribs. She carefully brushed a strand of hair from her face and forced herself to turn her gaze away from him. After all, she had to concentrate. But that was easier said than done. His warm hand, which lay protectively in hers, blocked any logical processes in her brain. After another half hour of trying to concentrate on English literature, she gave up and packed her things.

She was surprised that Jeongin hadn't fallen asleep yet, but he seemed more than happy to escape the library, which made her giggle. After she had put everything away, they walked to his car together, got in and he drove her home. When he parked in the driveway of her house, she smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you for driving me. You really didn't have to do that."

"I know... I just don't want you sitting alone in that book hell every day. Otherwise you'll go crazy." He laughed. His eyes turned into little crescent moons as he smiled at her and she felt her pulse quicken all the way to her ears. In response, she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She said before opening the passenger door and climbing out of the car. Jeongin waited, his cheeks red and his heart pounding, until he saw that she had arrived safely at the house. Then he started his car and left a happily grinning yn behind.

~☆~

It became a little ritual between them that Jeongin would take her to the library after school, she would often study there until late in the evening, they would pick up take-out food together from one of the nearby restaurants, eat it in Jeongin's car or on one of the park benches and then Jeongin would drive her home. And yn loved this routine together with him.

She loved being with Jeongin and talking to him. He treated her better than anyone had ever treated her before. He looked out for her and cared for her, just as she cared for him. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder when he would get too bored with her or find someone better. Probably because she hadn't quite realized how important she had become to Jeongin.

He made effort to get her to do other things, then studying, and tried to get her interested in her old hobbies again. For example, he had brought back her passion for photography. One day, while he was taking her to the library to study, he had stopped at a random field of flowers on the side of the road. Yn had looked at him, puzzled, as he climbed out of the car and ran out into the field, laughing happily.

"Come on! I need new photos for Instagram!" He laughed as he turned on his axis to fully take in the beautiful view of the flowers. The whole scene stretching out in front of her was too beautiful not to capture. So she climbed out of the car. She hesitantly pulled her phone out of her pocket and swiped the screen to open the camera. She looked through the lens, moved a little to find the perfect angle for her subject and then snapped a few pictures.

As she lowered her camera, Jeongin came running back to her and put his arm around her to get a better look at her work.

"Wow, I didn't know you were that good." He laughed as he swiped through the pictures on her phone.

"They look amazing!" he grinned at her and yn's cheeks turned red, whether from the compliments, the physical closeness or his sweet grin...

"Thank you." She mumbled, discarding Jeongin's face that hovered dangerously close to hers. He was still looking at her phone to see the pictures, but when he lifted his gaze, he found himself only a few centimeters away from yn's face.

They gazed into each other's eyes unable to say or do anything until Jeongin gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't know who had made the first move but suddenly they were kissing. Yn felt her whole body on fire as their lips moved in unison. Carefully, she clasped her hands behind his neck, afraid he would slip from her grasp at any moment.

The kiss ended far too soon as they were both gasping for breath. But as a finale, Jeongin gave her a little peck on the lips. He pulled her closer to him, enjoying her body heat and drawing gentle circles on her back as they both caught their breath smiling.

A day later, Jeongin had uploaded the pictures from their little photo shoot on Instagram with the caption: 'My favorite photographer', giggling as she liked the post.

And with that she rediscovered her love of photography. Sometimes she took photos of Jeongin, sometimes she met a cat on the street and snapped a picture of it, and sometimes she used trees or other plants that she wanted to capture with her camera as a motif. These little moments sweetened her monotonous school day and Jeongin watched her happily as she went through the pictures on her little digital camera, proud that he could help her to have at least a little better 'school-life balance' and to have a few hobbies outside of learning.

~☆~

It was yn's last week before her final exams and yet, against all expectations, she found herself relaxing on a picnic blanket in the municipal park. Jeongin had persuaded her to study outside with him because the weather was so nice and she didn't regret it. Smiling, she looked up at the clear sky and let the sun's rays shine on her face. Jeongin lay down next to her on the blanket, the math problems that he was supposed to solve for practice forgotten by both of them.

Carefully, yn took her hand in his and looked at him, lost in thought. His eyes, blinded by the bright sun, were narrowed to slits, making him look like a smiley face. His lips curled into a grin. Why did she have this strong urge to lean over and kiss him?

"You're staring." he laughed without looking in her direction and she blushed like a tomato. Abruptly, she averted her eyes and sat up, hiding behind the math book in order to look distracted. Jeongin had to laugh even harder at the sight of her.

This finally made her feel like one of those teenage girls who had nothing better to do than ogle guys all day, and even though she was particularly ashamed of it in this situation, she couldn't help but notice again how beautiful his laugh was.

Silence returned, in which neither of them could stop thinking about the other.

"When are you finally going out with me?" He said it as if it was a banal question that didn't make her heart stop and she knew he was just as nervous as she was. She could tell by the way he tugged at his shirt and nibbled his fingernails. So if he could fake his cool, she'd been able to do it for a long time.

"If you pass your final exams." They both pretended they weren't just grinning happily at each other because they'd basically just set up an unofficial date and continued to play their casual facade, giggling. But inside, they could hardly grasp how lucky they were with the other person. So Jeongin sat up, ran his fingers through his hair and leaned over the book that yn was still holding.

"Then I guess I'd better keep studying."

~☆~

Yn couldn't believe how quickly everything had gone. No sooner had she written her exams than her graduation ceremony had arrived. A few hours ago, she had received her certificate as the best in her year and now she was sitting on one of the bar stools in the club where her class's graduation party was being held.

Then she felt an arm around her shoulder and she was pulled closer to the stranger, whom she quickly recognized as Jeongin. She snuggled up to his body and he grinned at her. Carefully, he pressed his lips to hers. But before he could say anything, the little moment between them was interrupted by his friends bursting in, all cavorting in front of the two of them.

"Hey Aien!" Chris greeted the youngest member of their group. This was followed by teasing whistles at the sight of Jeongin's arm, which was now resting on her waist.

"We're finally free man! No more school stress!" Jisung raised his fist in the air exaggeratedly.

"And our baby is growing up!" Hyunjin sobbed as he wiped his non-existent tears from his eyes, whereupon Jeongin just shook his head and buried his face in the crook of yn's neck in shame.

His whole group of friends was pure chaos but at the same time felt like a second family where you could just be yourself.

"How the hell did you manage to get our hopeless case here to pass the exams?!" asked Seungmin yn, flicking Jeongin parallel against the back of the head. Everyone laughed and yn had to grin too, especially when she saw the mock indignant expression on Jeongin's face.

"Well, I promised him a date." She said with a laugh, causing even more chaos. Everyone shouted and laughed, made comments or was simply happy for them, but what mattered to yn was the love sick grin on Jeongin's face. Their eyes met and they beamed happily at each other. They all had different plans now that they had graduated, but it was clear that yn and Jeongin would go their ways together.

[axetivev]

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would work in Arkham Asylum. Dealing with most of Batman's enemies and actually vibing with them and having a better relationship then Bruce to his enemies (and his husband isn't having it).

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who will have a session with Joker while Bats and Hood stared at the clown's very soul. Batman would be prepared if Jason had the feel to charge to Joker while Y/N tried to stay professional, but deep down, he just wanted to laugh his ass off.

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would tag along with Ivy about plants. Which led to papa!reader asking to buy plants to Bruce (in a ridiculous amount). Which led to Bruce coming to Arkham to question her; What did you do to my husband?

(MPREG INCOME) Papa!Reader, a Psychological who was pregnant and the super-villains, oddly enough. Gentle with him, unlike their usual evil persona, and if there's anyone who dares to say something horrible to him, they'll get a beat down.

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who was pretty much close to Batman like metal and magnet, talked so lovingly if anyone wasn't around. And the possibilities of his super-villains knowing Papa!reader was his husband made Bruce—i mean Batman go wild.

"My love... I can't let my enemies know I'm a lovebird with their psychologist..." Batman spoke, his voice was deep but barely a whisper while trying to stay professional as Papa!reader continues to shower his rough cheek with kisses.

"Mhm, deal with it, Bats. ♡"

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would often bring snacks to his patients, declining wasn't an option. And it would never be.

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who got books from Harley Quinn about psychology. And would come home with 2-4 huge books about it.

Alfred : If I may ask, where do you get them. Master Y/N?

Papa!reader : Harley Quinn.

Alfred : Ah... Miss Quinn.

Bruce spits his coffee : Quinn???

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would go on sessions with Damian (as Robin), clinging to him or when he sat down, Robin would rest his head in his lap, while reading a book or sleeping. And his patients would question Papa!reader

Patient : Why is the Boy Wonder sleeping on you?

Papa!reader who was writing while patting Robin's head : He's my son.

Patient who didn't hear it clearly : Your who...?

Papa!reader visibly sweating : Ah... j–just let him sleep! Let just continue—

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would always bring a pepper spray. Well, Bruce was the one who told him he should bring one...

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who is absolute besties with Harley, Batman would grumble about the fact she "took" his husband away from his grasp.

NSFW!!

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would get pinned against his office desk. Stomach facing the wooden table as Batman pound his hole without mercy if jealousy rose or just needed a quickie.

Batman came to Papa!reader's office. As the male was on his desk, busy with some documents, the Dark Knight grabbed Papa!reader's waist, kicking his chair, Batman immediately pulled down Papa!reader's pants as his hole was in sight, he wasted no time. Immediately pulling his own pants, before inserting his length. Pounding his husband's hole without mercy.

"Mmh... B–bats... s–slow down...mm..ngh!" Papa!Reader moaned, as Batman inserted his index and middle finger to his husband's mouth.

"Keep your voice down. You're a good boy, I know you are." Batman smirked against his cheek, before planting kisses on Papa!reader's soft cheek.

[slenbee]

List of Current Scammers - Part 3

Created: 12/11/24 - Updated: 3/30/25

Disclaimer: This list is only meant to serve as documentation and reference material so that others know: what to look out for in regards to a scam, and who to block preemptively if you so choose. I do not, in any way, endorse harassment or mass reporting these users. Do NOT do this. I'm serious. DO NOT mass report. Only report these asks if you GET them or ones like them. Thank you.

Part 1 and part 2 will now serve as an archive for reference material and will no longer be updated with current/active scam accounts. Any new account will be posted here, and if it links to a scammer previously mentioned evidence will be provided from that scam list.

----------

index:

> means a name change. (banana (changed to) mango)

+ means multiple (active) accounts running the same scam.

Previously: means this account is running a scam previously used by an account listed on Part 1 or Part 2 of the scam list.

Recently: means this scam was seen on recently banned account.

(banned) blogs will remain until a new one shows up and then it will be moved to the Recently: category.

Evidence:

Evidence linked will be mostly in the form of call out posts that can be found by searching an accounts username on tumblr. If you are suspicious of an ask you receive, I suggest you please do the bare minimum and search their username on tumblr to see if they've been reported by other users to be a scam.

Reasons why all of these blogs listed here are scams:

Those saying they are 'vetted/verified' will not say by who.

Those saying they 'live(d) in Gaza' know nothing about it.

Those saying they are diabetic have no idea how diabetes works.

Their PayPal.me name are used by other scam accounts.

They use stolen stories/images (if searched via google).

They use multiple blogs to run the same scam.

They will reuse the same story word for word from past accounts.

They will block you if you try and ask questions. Go on. Do it.

They really like changing their 'real name(s). like, a lot.

Their accounts are only a few days/weeks/1-4 months old.

They reblog 5-10 things irreverent things then stop.

The list of evidence goes on and on.

If you have doubts, read the message at the bottom of this post.

----------

Part 1 - Scammers pretending to be Palestinian

Note: Please refer to Part 1 of the scammer list for more information.

Here is a comprehensive guide on how to spot these scams.

----------

Insulin or diabetes Scams A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for donations regarding insulin or diabetes care.

sitatimohamed1 (banned) Previously: sitatimohamed (part 1) No PayPal link yet but probably soon. Evidence it's a scam: here and here herkryptonitephilosopher (banned) Notes: PayPal name Irine Temoi is used in other scams. Uses Linktree to hide a PayPal. (that doesn't make it 'legit') Evidence it's a scam: here lydiadiabetespatient Notes: Previously claimed to be Sudanese, now claims to be from Gaza. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here scrumptiousenthusiastcolor taheerahmohammed qualitywizardchopshop Recently: sappotviviandiabetiicpatient fancyunknownfury "diagnosed with Diabetes at a tender age" Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here furiousdreamertimemachine (banned) Recently: furryhideoutlight + unlikelycreationqueen + fancytacowonderland Previously: furryreviewearthquake (part 1) "My family is still staying in half of the church" Asks for PayPal. Evidence that it's a scam: here and here mysterioussickenessdiabiatese (banned) Previously: gaza-diabetes-childrenhelp (part 1) Asks for PayPal. Evidence that it's a scam: here foggyhottubpost (banned) Previously: foggyruinspost + foggyruinsblog (part 1) Notes: PayPal name Mercy Siomi is used by other scam accounts. Asks for PayPal. Evidence that it's a scam: here sweatyblazefury "Hello help me get insulin for baby Layla today her condition is worsening" Past account(s): universallypeanutpoetry Notes: PayPal name Samson Marwa is used by other scams. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here and here krispyconnoisseurthing (banned) Notes: PayPal name has been used by other scam accounts. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here

----------

Evacuation Donation Scams Accounts asking for money to move from one place to another.

maximumtriumphmagazine (banned) Stole images from a real artist. Artist confirmed not related. Uses a fake gofundme for asking donations. Evidence it's a scam: here abdullahwahhab (banned) Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here magicalmilkshakecrown (banned) "I suffer from nightmares that are so closely resemble reality that I no longer Differentiate between reality and a dream." Notes: Has used multiple past usernames dating back 7 months. Asks for PayPal. (hidden in a linktree) Evidence it's a scam: here and here

Medical Donations - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for money for cancer or another medical condition.

superbballoonsalad (banned) Stolen images. Was previously cherylbieryl. Asks for PayPal. (has since deleted their post) Evidence it's a scam: here devotedlyprofounddream Previously known as: dhrogou, emmilyy3, emilllyi "I'm Emily Palestine citizen from gaza. I'm suffering from brain cancer." Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here and here

----------

Part 2 - Non Palestinian related scams

Note: Please refer to Part 2 of the scammer list for more information.

----------

Pet donation Scams - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts requesting money to help a sick pet/animal.

crusadingcross (banned) this is Louie. He is an 8 year old Ragdoll Notes: Picture is of a black cat, not a Ragdoll breed. Vet bill is in the USA but PayPal is in the Philippines. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here guiian-pie (banned) Please don’t scroll. Odin can really use your help. Notes: The real Odin passed away 12/31/24 via a post on the private facebook group that this scammer is using. (see evidence) Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here (see reblog it's it's the same scammer as above.) marshmalluhhh "This is my diabetic cat, Titty. He was diagnosed with diabetes almost 3 years ago" Notes: This is the same scammer who ran the Louie cat scam. Evidence it's a scam: here

----------

Medical Donations - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for money for cancer or another medical condition.

happilyjoyfulnut Recently: radhideoutsublime / furrybouquetdonut / perfectlyhardfan Previously: foggybouquetsublime (see Part 2) 'I have stage 2A cervical Cancer' Notes: PayPal name Esta Odhiambo is/was used by other accounts. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here gloriouswolfbeliever (changed to the eunicemargwel scam) Recently: sublimenerddragon Previously: sublimedestinybird (see Part 2) "I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes" Asks for PayPal. - Evidence it's a scam: here differentladyfest (banned) Recently: monicahqueen 'I had stage 4 Laryngeal Cancer, voicebox removed.' Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here swimminggentlemencreator (banned) Previously: choppedreviewsong (see Part 2) 'cystic fibrosis patient' Story and images 100% stolen from a real fundraiser. Notes: The original fundraiser was requested/required to be stopped in 2023, and the person who it was for had their twitter deactivated at some point too. I (personally) cannot find anything on this person (Alessandra Olivero) still being alive, so I (personally) am under the assumption that they may have passed away. The scam accounts who use these images and this story in particular make me hella mad and I hope they suffer before they rot in hell. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here mellowarbitermentality + joyfulladylover + strangetrashpost "Last summer I was diagnosed with Stage 1 Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma." Asks for PayPal. Notes: PayPal name was Pilly Nyakoba now it's C'atherlyne. Evidence it's a scam: here

----------

Diabetes / Insulin scams - A guide on how to spot these scams. Accounts asking for donations regarding insulin or diabetes care.

furryfoxpost gloriouswolfbeliever Recently: weepingtrashheart + scentedtacomaker + generouscandycreator + jovialnightcat + nuttykittenglitter Previously: sostudentbarbarian / alfayothesoftwareaudit / purplecatshark (see Part 2) "I Need Help With Medical Bills And Equipment" Notes: Uses the same picture on every blog of the girl with the cgm and blood in/on an IV that's in her arm. Asks for PayPal. Known name/alias: Eunice magwerl Evidence it's a scam: here and here pinkinfluencertrash Recently: gloriousprincecupcake gloriouswolfinfluencer happilyholypizza Previously: steadybluebirdpizza (see Part 2) Notes: Has used many multiple accounts. (vero-og) Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here stevenomwita Recently: severedazepanda spmwitaa humongousfoxbasement numberonetimemachinebouquet stevenemwita Previously: ssmwitaa (see Part 2) Notes: Art thief. Has no idea how insulin works. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: here jessieblogsposts (banned) Notes: The name Diana Achieng is used by other scam accounts. Images and story stolen from a gofundme. Asks for PayPal. Evidence it's a scam: the gofundme (2020) phariiislgbtqvictim (banned) Notes: The name Pharis Disi is used by other scam accounts. Fake gogetfunding campaign. Evidence it's a scam: here

----------

If you have any doubts about the validity of this post:

I would not, nor would I ever, willingly or knowingly put someone on this list if I knew 100%, without a doubt, that they were a real, genuine person looking for help.

I (personally) have spent hours of my time gathering evidence in the form of searching names, copy/pasting things over and over into tumblr and google just to try and find different blogs, taking screenshots and making collages in photoshop, writing down and making entire in depth posts about how and why a blog is or isn't running a scam.

And I'm not the only one who does this.

Scam buster blogs, helpful users/anons, and many others, have been looking into and tracking these scammers for months.

These are not individuals we just saw on tumblr and decided to pick on for shits and giggles.

They are scammers.

They don't care about whose story they use or whose pictures they stole. They don't care how it effects someone or what lives they ruin.

All they care about is money.

So, remember to report their PayPal accounts if you can please. :)

Thank you and have a good day. <3

Helpful guides on how to spot scams. (by @kyra45) Important tips and tricks on spotting scams.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Novel Outline

Novel outline - a document that includes important planning information about your novel’s structure, plot, characters, scenes, and more. It is the skeleton of your novel.

An outline can be anything from a one-page written document to a comprehensive visual mindmap that uses diagrams to represent the link between information and ideas.

If you have the space, you can write your sentences on index cards and post them on a wall to make it easier to view and manipulate the parts.

Each event should be a single, short sentence (e.g. Danny gets shot in the leg).

How to Create a Novel Outline

Grab your notebook (or index cards) and follow these simple steps:

1. Craft your premise

This is the underlying idea for your story.

A good way to find the premise is to ask yourself, “What would happen if…?”

For example: What would happen if a young man who survives a shipwreck spends months in a lifeboat with a large Bengal tiger? (Life of Pi, 2001) Or: What would happen if four strangers met in an Italian villa during World War II? (The English Patient, 1992).

Next, it might help to try and answer a few key questions to help expand on the premise and generate new ideas. Things like:

Who is the main protagonist?

What is the situation?

How will the protagonist change from the beginning of the novel to the end?

What is her/her objective?

What does he/she want?

How does he/she get or not get what they want?

Is there an opposing force that is stopping the protagonist from achieving this objective?

What is the central conflict of the novel?

What about the central theme—what are you trying to say?

Once you’ve worked out the answers to these questions, write a 1-paragraph summary of the novel. Think of it as an elevator pitch.

2. Determine your setting

In a novel, the setting (time, place) can be just as important as the characters. Readers need to feel a sense of where things are happening, just as much as why they’re happening.

Planning setting can depend on a number of things, depending on what kind of novel you’re writing. Get to know your setting intimately. Do as much research as you can. If your novel is set in the real world, find photos, descriptions, and other materials to inform your ideas.

Is your novel set in a boarding school? During a particular period in time?

Find as much information, both written and visual, about boarding schools in that time. Picture your settings in your mind, and write down as much detail as you can: everything from how something looks and sounds to how it might smell, taste, or feel.

3. Get to know your characters

Write character profiles. Visualize them. Pretend you’re introducing these characters to your friends. What would you say about them? What details would you include, and what details would you omit—and why? What kind of journey will each character undertake in the novel? Where will they start, and where will they end up? Who will be central to the novel’s plot, and who will just serve as color and background?

Develop character backstories. Think of the moments in each character’s life that have led them to the point where they are introduced in the novel. What elements have shaped their personality and progression as characters? Do they have unresolved issues crucial to the plot?

One method is to conduct a Q&A with the most important characters, as a way of finding out more about them. Ask your characters a series of questions (get as personal as you want) and have him/her answer in his/her own words.

4. Construct your plot

Construct a timeline of events. Write down everything that happens in the novel, from the beginning to the end. Include details where you can, such as where the events take place, and who is involved. If you know the outcome of the events, and how they will impact the novel’s overall plot, include this as well (these can help form the foundation of additional subplots).

Beginning: The beginning of your novel has to accomplish a lot. It must introduce the hero, the villain, and the world of the story, as well as the story’s sole dramatic question, and it must do this with enough energy to grab your reader’s interest right away. A prologue can be useful for seizing the reader’s attention.

Middle: Often, tension evaporates in the middle of a novel, so it’s a good idea to figure out your ending first. It may not be perfect, and you can always change it later, but it’s useful to know the climax to which your characters are headed. Having that destination will help you stay focused during the “middle muddle.” Write as many short sentences as you need to describe the pathway your characters will take to reach the climax.

End: While it may seem daunting to figure out the ending so early, just return to your sole dramatic question, which already has your ending hidden within it. For example, if your question is: Will Ahab catch the whale? Then your story’s finale will be the moment when he does.

5. Write your scenes

Once your plot outline is in place, you’ll have a better idea of what scenes will need to be placed where. Add them to the outline. Flesh them out as much as you want—everything from where the action takes place to who is involved, even dialogue if you already know what you want your characters to say. Don’t worry about things making sense at this point, you’ll have time later to go back and highlight anything that feels out of place. Just focus on getting everything down so you can see it in front of you.

Once your outline is complete, you’ll be free to start writing your first draft with the knowledge that if you falter, you can always turn back to the outline to see the big picture. As you begin the writing process, watch out for gaps in logic. Refer back to the outline, and update storylines, plot points, and the timeline as you go along.

While it’s necessary to have a basic grasp of your characters and your world when you start writing, it’s not essential to know everything up front. In fact, even with the most meticulous outlines, you may still find that your characters do things to upset your plans. When this happens, follow your instincts. Don’t be afraid to toss your outline or significantly revise it mid-way through your novel. A good rule to remember is that outlines involve plotting what will happen to your characters, but in the end, your characters should determine your plot.

Classic Methods for Creating Novel Outlines

No two outlines are ever the same, however there are myriad methods to kickstart the novel outline process.

Synopsis outline. This involves the creation of a short document, usually one or two pages long, that gives you a rough idea of the novel’s structure but also leaves room for flexibility. Think of this as a synopsis of the book, hitting all the major beats: what happens in the beginning, middle, and end? What are the major plot points and twists? What is the climax? What is the resolution?

In-depth outline. This is a more evolved outline that usually involves writing chapter summaries and outlining the different scenes within those chapters. This is more comprehensive and can take a lot more time. However, some writers swear by this method to stay on track. Some in-depth outlines can almost be mini-novels themselves, hitting around the 10,000-word mark.

Snowflake method. This method was created by author and writing instructor Randy Ingermanson. It begins with a one-sentence summary of the story you’re trying to tell. For example, the sentence could be something like: “Two teenagers discover a secret cave that contains treasures that a group of criminals has been hunting for.” The snowflake method would then require you to build that sentence into a paragraph, and then use that paragraph to create a series of character descriptions, and from there a series of storylines that involve those characters. The process spans outward until you have a fully outlined novel.

Bookend method. This method is for writers who prefer to leave some things to chance. It involves plotting the start and end of the story, as well as each of the main characters—but nothing more. This method is usually recommended for writers who already have a strong grasp of the characters and the kind of story they want to tell.

Basic Questions Every Outline Should Answer

Besides listing characters and plot points for story structure, your outline should give you a general sense of the direction of your story as well as the primary conflicts and tensions that will make it intriguing for readers. Keep the following questions in mind while creating your outline:

What is the main contract of the story? You must resolve the promises you made to your reader by the end of the novel.

What sort of time pressure is working on your characters?

What is at stake for the protagonist of the novel? Does the pressure on the main characters grow more intense as the story progresses?

Pros & Cons of Creating an Outline

Some writers are comfortable creating a detailed outline for a novel. New writers in particular find it helpful to have a road map.

Others feel that writing an outline diminishes the pleasure of discovering the story along the way. They argue that working from an outline means you’re not creating anymore, you’re translating your ideas.

In the literary world, novelists who use outlines are referred to as “plotters.” Example: Ernest Hemingway.

Those who don’t are known as “pantsers” — a reference to flying by the seat of their pants. Famous pantsers include Margaret Atwood and Stephen King.

While every writer is different, there are some general pros and cons to consider before creating your novel outline.

The benefits of creating an outline:

Helps visualize the big picture

Keeps the story on track

Logs which scenes go where

Clearly presents character arcs

Acts as a guide to ease writer’s block when you’re stuck

Clarifies the middle, to avoid the “muddle”

The drawbacks of creating an outline:

Can create a stilted narrative

If followed too closely, can feel formulaic

May lead to more showing rather than telling in the actual writing

Characters may seem to make inauthentic choices, solely based on plot points instead of natural results from narrative action

Bestselling author Stephen King supposedly swears by putting interesting characters in difficult situations and just seeing what happens. He famously said: “Outlines are the last resource of bad fiction writers who wish to God they were writing masters’ theses.”

That aside, both plotters and pantsers agree on one thing: there is no correct way when it comes to novel writing. It simply depends on what kind of writer you are, and what works for you.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs