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rippersz · 2 months
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𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆'𝒔 𝑨 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
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✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Larissa Weems x Reader x Alcina Dimitrescu (NSFW; Double Penetration; Lewd Language; BDSM; Mommy Kink; Breeding; G!P)
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It’s too much. 
It’s way too much.
Too much touching, too much pleasure, too much passion. 
It’s all warm bodies, panting breaths, deep growls, small whimpers, and so much heat that you feel faint with it. They have you stuck in between, held up and hovering over thick thighs while two sets of strong hips alternate powerful thrusts. In and out. In and out. In… out… Easy and light for the two of them as sharp nails leave deep indents in the flesh of your ass, clenching and unclenching. She shoulders most of the weight, the taller of your two lovers, while she takes her fill. Insatiable and dark. Hard, fast, and rough. There’s grunts that pour past your ear and fan against the sensitive skin of your neck, creating the most precious addictive harmony as she scrapes razor-sharp fangs along the soft flesh of your trapezius. Skirting around the very edge of pain. She knows you fear it. She knows you’re waiting. Fortunately, she’s already made up her mind. The feeding will be for another night- or perhaps later, when you’re passed out on the bed between them, plugged to keep the warmth of their cum from spilling out of your pretty body. She’s unbelievably excited about that if the flex of her hips and strong steady hold is anything to go by. It’s a sweet gesture in the long run, keeping you in place so that the woman in front of you, grasping onto your lower thighs, can have an easier time using you for pleasure. 
And she is. Absolutely. 
Larissa’s porcelain skin is flushed pink with desire, spreading all the way down to the milky expanse of her bare chest. She’s huffing, her beautiful red lips parted with a sense of disbelief while her eyes, blown dark with an appreciative pupil, lock themselves onto the sensitive place where your bodies meet. She studies your venus mound, the soft curls wetted by your desire, and licks her lips without thought while you watch the hypnotizing roll of her torso. In and out… in and out… smooth and easy and deep enough to make both of you exhale soft moans and whimpers on each thrust. She doesn’t have the stamina Alcina does, but that’s why your draconic lover takes most of the force… and most of the resistance. Their difference in size, in moments like this, is terribly noticeable. You feel it in their hands, in the closeness of their chests and their heights, even while kneeling on the bed, and in the thick of their cocks as they grind into you from both ends. 
Filling all that they can, for all that they’re worth, and enjoying the sounds of your broken cries. 
“P-please- can’t!- Sens-sensitive!” You scream, vision blurring with hot tears as they continue their evil dance. 
Alcina is absolutely fucking punishing. You’re not sure how you’re going to walk comfortably come morning with the way she smacks against your backside. She’s obviously not shy and only finds a sick sort of enjoyment in your answering sobs whenever she whispers how tight you are for her. How desperate. Clenching around both of their lengths like a needy depraved little slut. 
And Larissa, who listens with sharp ears and responds with appreciative moans, can only watch and partake in her own lewd show as she sees the way Alcina hovers over you. Making eye contact with those golden fires, feeling adored beneath the heavy heat that comes with the constant stare your taller lover gives her. Eyes raking over the softness of her breasts, the hickies on the swell of her ribs, the golden curls at the base of her cock… Slightly smaller than Alcina’s, and tinged pink with delight as it moves in and out of you with fervor. Stretching with ease as you take her right to the hilt over and over and over. It feels like a piece of Heaven all on its own, plucked right from the stars, as Larissa looks up from beneath her lashes and bats her eyes at Alcina. Her cock throbs, wild with pleasure, as it fills you swiftly- and she takes that moment to pause. The lull barely has time to confuse you before Larissa is leaning closer, pressing your chests together in warm, hazy damp delight, so she can bring her lips right up to your-... shoulder. Over your shoulder. To meet the pull of Alcina’s body as her bountiful chest, soft and gentle, pins itself to the contours of your back. You can almost feel the heavy thump of her heart. 
“Kiss me, darling,” Alcina breathes quickly, her voice a deep pleasant rumble brushed against Larissa’s lips. They keep themselves inside of you, prolonging the ache in your body as they kiss. Slow and sensual, red lips opening and parting, pink tongues licking into each other with languid strokes. Eyes closed, suspended in bliss, throats bobbing with the most erotic moans. You can only watch, entranced and bewitched, as a strong shiver races down your spine. You quake in their shared hold and shift your gaze to see- Oh. Gold. Striking gold, glowing beneath a heavy lid, watching you with cloying amusement. It’s embarrassing to be seen in such a needy state, blushing and clenching and eager for whatever they can give you… you want to hide away, but you have nowhere to go. They’re so warm, so strong, and kissing so lovingly. 
Alcina’s eye closes as she loses herself in your other lover’s sweet mouth, and the desperation in your body only shoots to unbearable heights as the attention is stolen away.
“Please,” you whimper. Give it to me. Anything. Fuck me until I pass out and you can’t control yourselves anymore. Please. Anything. I love you. 
Larissa is the first to pull away. She’s slow, letting Alcina steal one last moan from her lungs, before she’s settling back onto her heels and licking the spit from her lips. Slow and appreciative. You figure they both taste like wine and sex and your body begins to squirm without much thought–completely taken by the envious nature that swells in your heart. 
Kiss me too. Please. Please, kiss me too. 
“Poor thing…,” your lover whispers, her breath like a cool balm against your heated skin. You nod immediately, trying to garner some appreciation, some sympathy, and lean your head back to rest on Alcina’s collarbone. She feels so strong behind you, still holding your legs without even a tremor in her forearms - and keeping you open for Larissa, who ducks to nuzzle against your neck. “Have we been neglecting you?” She asks in a murmur, the words flowing like individual pieces of silk from her cherry lips. 
You nod, quickly, and bring your hands up from your thighs to rest over her shoulders. A small tug has her settling closer, pressing so far into you that no space slips between your bodies. Chests kissing and hips locked, the sweat on her skin glistens beneath firelight. 
The hearth is proudly lit and burning away, flickering with shadows that dance across your sinful tango. Everything smells of perfume and sex and you’re eager to feel them moving again. Alcina is starting to hurt, aching so much within her nestled spot that you try to adjust - but her hands only dig into your thighs with renewed vigor. She doesn’t want you to escape. She doesn’t want you to leave. You feel the burn and you stay there for them, because tonight that’s your job. 
Larissa’s little pet. Alcina’s little fucktoy. That’s usually how it goes. 
And the sweet peck that the former gives you a moment later, lingering in the space between your eyebrows, sparks a little whimper to run from your throat. It’s a raw sound, betraying your need, and you watch as Larissa’s eyes soften. She is always so weak for you—never able to keep up the mean façade for very long. She can tease like a motherfucker, but the near punishing pace Alcina often sets is not something she can always adapt to. So she loves as she does now, kissing every bit of your face that she can reach, letting out soft moans that make your mouth water. And when you try moving to capture her lips, lazily twisting your head, she backs away. A terrible game of cat and mouse. A form of torture that has you in near tears because goddammit you just need them to DO something alread-
“Hngh!” A strained, choked sound, taken from the very depths of your eager soul, splits the heavy air.
It’s tinged with pain, overwhelmed with pleasure, as Alcina’s cock, in all of its big glory, drags out of your hole and slams back in.
“Fuck,” you hear her low murmur before the rest of her appreciation is drowned out by Larissa’s gasp. 
She’s clearly very sensitive, instantly shutting her eyes in undeniable bliss as the motions of your dance start up again. Alcina grinds easily, producing the dirtiest sounds as the meat of her thighs slaps against your ass. And no moan is stifled. No growl is hidden. She wants you to hear her. She knows how much it makes you throb, and when that happens, she knows it pleasures them both. And that’s part of it, of course. A common point of teasing. She pulls out certain reactions from you so you can please Larissa. Your sweet angel. Bucking her hips like she is now, a mad woman made by your own hands. White hair in disarray, chest painted in lipstick and light bruises, legs shaking with need. 
They stretch you so well… The perfect fits for your body. Even if it hurts. Even if, occasionally, you wince. It doesn’t matter. You’re just so warm… So easy… Constantly ready to drop to your knees if they ask. Always in the mood to give yourself up. It’s just as Alcina says:
“Such an eager little whore for your Mommies, aren’t you darling?” 
Yes. Yes, you are. 
“Mhm… Our pretty little cocksleeve…”
God, yes.
“Isn’t that right, Larissa? Such a good princess we have, hm?” 
The response is a deep purr. “Without a doubt, my love. So… oh gods, fuck… so obedient…”
Very. The most obedient. No choice but to be. Doesn’t matter. You’re a good princess. Best cocksleeve. All for them. Pretty Mommies…
Out there, you are more than this. You are something perhaps a bit more human. A bit more independently functional. You are expected to do things. Told to be mightier. Conditioned to work and provide and never rest.
But here… 
Oh here you are nothing but a means to an end. A hole to fill as your lovers, all red lips and aureate eyes crashing into sapphires, black and white hair in complete contrast, fuck you at their own paces. Staring at each other over your shoulder, hearts in their pupils, while they use you like the two-holed toy in between. Your pleas go unanswered. Your tears go unlicked.
They use your body like they’ve spent their whole lives waiting to. And your body accepts them. Eager for their care, their love, the heat that they want to fill you with.
“Cum with me, Larissa.” In your foggy haze, you hear Alcina pant. “Please,” she begs, a sweet sound you rarely get to hear, “Help me- hngfuckfuck- f-fill our little girl.” 
The term of endearment has you exploding in goosebumps, growing stiff with the amount of times your cunt squeezes around Larissa’s length in the span of only a few moments. It’s addicting, this position. This intimacy. The mind-numbing passion that follows in the wake of their rapid, eager thrusts. An easy tell for the bliss you’re about to feel. 
“Yes- yesyesyesyesyes!- Al-cina-!” Your fair-haired lover squeaks as she doubles over, presses her forehead into your neck, and pumps her hips erratically. The shiver flows through her veins and comes to a head, quick and hard, as she crumbles inside of you. 
Alcina, delighted by the show of those blue eyes rolling back in pleasure, follows without preamble. Her thrusts are mad, lost in their forgotten timing, and descend into short bursts of strength as she works herself all the way inside and finally gives into the electricity that floats into her body. 
The feeling of their breasts pressed to your front and back, heaving with the love you’ve given them, the Heaven that’s been taken, is enough to send you into a small orgasm of your own. It’s a weak pulse of your body, too tired and hazy to register anything but the thick warm cum that floods you. Spilling and spilling until you’re nearly certain that it’s all going to dribble out onto the length of their cocks as soon as they pull out, and then dirty the bedspread.
But really who gives a fuck about the bedspread? 
They’ll just buy another set, rich and expensive and softer than feathers. 
And then ruin that one too.
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Drops dead - Rip x
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Too tired for tags... waaaa...
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sas-soulwriter · 6 months
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No to overwriting
In my last post, I mentioned things you don't need to worry about when writing your first book, including going into excessive detail.
Today, I want to dive deeper into one of those aspects: the idea that you don't overwrite in your first draft.
When you're embarking on the exciting journey of crafting your first book, it's easy to get caught up in the desire to make every sentence perfect, every dialogue sparkling, and every description exquisitely detailed. While these are certainly important elements of great writing, they don't need to be perfected in your initial draft.
Here's why:
Flow and Creativity: Your first draft is where the magic happens. It's where your creativity flows freely, and the story unfolds without restrictions. Overthinking and overwriting can disrupt this natural flow and stifle your creative voice. First drafts are for doing. For getting the idea down!
Stress Reduction: Focusing too much on perfection in the first draft can be stressful and overwhelming. It might even discourage you from continuing. Remember, it's okay to let your ideas flow without immediate scrutiny.
Revision Comes Later: Writing is a process, and revision is a critical part of it. You'll have ample opportunity to refine and improve your work in subsequent drafts. This is the stage where you can fine-tune sentences, fix grammar, and add the right level of detail.
Progress Over Perfection: The goal of your first draft is to get your ideas down on paper. It's more about progress than perfection. Don't let the pursuit of perfection hinder your progress as a writer.
Happy writing!
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sunflowersinners · 4 months
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FANFIC COMMISSIONS OPEN!
Hey Friends!
I’m stuck sick in bed all week, so in order to pass the time I am re-opening my fanfic commissions!
Do you have a ship or plot you want to see play out but you’re not sure how to write it? Do you have an amazing idea and you’re not sure where to start? Let me write it for you! I charge just one penny per word.
DM me to learn more!
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liliansilverstuff · 2 years
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Several Dramione fic ideas swirling through my brain, just listing them here mostly for my own reference because they get lost in my phone notes:
Biggest thing: Unforgettable (sequel to my 160k multi-chap, Unforgivable) Memory loss fic, but not like any you’ve read.
Small thing, but wanna do it justice: a Draco POV follow-up to my one-shot, The Genuine Article, where Draco is forced into the muggle world following the war.
Huge thing I don’t know I will ever get to: a canon re-write, probably in vignette form, starting from Harry’s Hogwarts letter. Basic premise is that Dudley read the letter and insists on being brought along with Harry for his school supply shopping trip. Hagrid never comes to get Harry. Harry meets Draco in Dagon alley and becomes friends with him after Draco insults the Dursleys for being shitty to Harry Potter.
Other huge thing: Draco is court ordered to attend 8th year, but sends a clone of himself instead. (There is some kind of muggle/magical connection here, for the cloning but) Hermione and the clone become friends, but she knows something is off, and is hell bent on figuring it out. Madness and hilarity ensues.
Oh! And it’s called “Multiplicity” a la the Michael Keaton film.
Here’s the summary:
He’s not who she thought he was… because, actually, he isn’t.
Other smatterings:
8th year - Hermione purposefully gets detention with Draco. Repeatedly.
(I think this is PWP, but I am historically incapable of PWP, sooooo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Ministry co-workers - everyone in Hermione’s department is desperate to get her laid. Enter: Draco Malfoy.
How do I just get these written? What’s the spell?
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mysticraven20 · 1 year
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When you get excited about your hit count on AO3 and then realise at least 30% of those hits are just yourself checking back for typos 🤦🏼‍♀️
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koulakoukoula2003 · 2 years
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pjohoo-memes · 2 years
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phoenix: the MVP is mine-
no it isn't. it goes to wattpad readers that VOTE.
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mystical-blaise · 14 hours
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Chapter 1 of Unwritten & Unsaid, a post-Ruthless Vows Letters of Enchantment fic, is now up on ao3!
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rippersz · 2 months
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𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚
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(Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Reader) (NSFW: Cunnilingus, Overstimulation; Fluff) (~1.3K words)
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Brienne held the kindest soul. Always hidden behind a tough exterior, yes, but kind nevertheless. She was so eager to be of service and fight for her honor, for her morals, for her people. Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the best of her ranks. The best of her warriors. Perhaps not as strong as some of the men, but definitely more intelligent. Definitely more lithe. Quick, even in her armor. Brutal, even in her training.
You enjoyed watching from the walls of the castle, looking down at the training grounds with amused eyes as she barked orders and corrected stances and cut down a few arrogant souls with one swift slash of her sword. It wasn’t very funny to her, but sometimes, in the dark of night beneath your blankets, you were able to pull a laugh or two from her tired body. Gossiping about how stupid and oaf-ish some of the men could be, and mimicking their silly deep voices so outrageously that she was forced to wack at your shoulder and roll her eyes in eternal exasperation. You delighted in those moments, especially when you could lean over and push a smooshed sloppy kiss onto her cheek - giggling when she shoved you away and pretended to get sick into her palm. Also a tactic to hide the blush on her face, but you never confronted her about it.
Though it was no surprise, of course, for a woman like Brienne to take her passion for combat into other areas of her life. Her vigor when mounting and riding her horse, the quick sharp movements of her hand and her penmanship, and the way she pulled on her armor without needing help. All done with a certain level of dedication and precision. All done without complaint. You admired those qualities about her, and you told her so often.
You told her so often… when you weren’t being fucked dumb on top of her face. Held by her strong hands. With a dedicated, precision-focused Brienne looking up at you through hooded lashes.
She was flushed and sweating, with the soft baby hairs at her temples slicking back into the rest of her golden locks. Splayed out like a halo on the front of the feathered pillow. She was an absolute vision there, your warrior. Eyes so dark and sharp, watching the way your breasts bounced and your lips parted - swollen from the biting kisses she placed there not too long ago. Something had happened earlier in the day that led to her desperation. The very moment the door to your quarters was closed and locked, those calloused hands were running to your hips and bringing you in. Closer and closer and closer to her, until she nearly ripped the shirt from her head and the dress from your body.
“I’ve missed you,” she huffed into your ear before pressing hot kisses down the line of your neck, trailing her tongue in a delightful little dance across your skin. You were so sensitive for her, and so familiar with being in control, that the loss of it had you losing your courage.
“You saw me- oh gods- e-earlier,” was your whispered response, though it was shoved out of your mouth by the hand that wound itself into your hair and tugged backward.
“I don’t care,” Brienne seethed. “I always miss you.” And the softness that came with such words was only reserved for you. In front of others, she wouldn’t dare, but there were no others there. It was only you, grasping her shoulders, and her, leaning down and walking you toward the bed.
The bed, where she had you falling apart.
The bed, which you could barely see because dear fucking gods her tongue was ruining your senses. It was an eager thing. Absolutely hungry. Running over your clit in perfect circles, flicking and teasing and pulling soft whimpers from your chest. Stroking the flames of your desire, building them up and up and up until they swallowed you whole. From the prickles of heat at the base of your skull all the way to your curling toes and shaking thighs. You were so sensitive, pushing yourself against the wall to stop yourself from losing balance, utterly embarrassed to feel the drool leak out of your mouth as the overwhelming tide of bliss came over you again. And again. And again. Washing away your thoughts, your earthly desires, and leaving a raw woman behind. Shuddering above the wicked mouth of your lover, with her sharp jaw burning in exertion and her sweet brow furrowed, too concentrated to care about her tired muscles. Long fingers kept you pinned, digging into the crease of your thigh and tummy, and her arms flexed with the strength it took to keep you still and open for her. At her dear excruciating mercy. Quivering on top of that handsome face and feeling your muscles clench eagerly when she filled you up with her tongue and moaned. Forcing the warm flutters from your body while she closed those gorgeous blue eyes and lapped at your mess.
“B-Brienne- please!” Your words were slurred and sloppy, mumbled helplessly against the wall. Every part of your body crumbled from the exquisite burn. “Please- ungh- can’t-”
But Brienne didn’t care if you could or couldn’t. The only response you got was a throaty groan and a small quirk of pale, wet lips. Her silent pleasure at your beautiful praise. Her gentle purrs at your eager whines. She was more than willing to drown in you - if only it meant you were satisfied and happy and so tired by the end of it that she wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about you being the ‘big spoon’. That is, of course, if your arms ever became strong enough to hold her again. It was far too easy to lose yourself in the pleasure she gave, desperate and starved, and when your hands ran to tangle themselves in her soft hair, she seemed to know that just for a moment- you had had enough.
“Dear gods Brienne!” You huffed as soon as her arms pulled you down toward her chest and she had enough leverage to flip you around and put herself on top. “That- I-” a soft whine bubbled up from your throat, swiftly cutting off your words when she leaned down and pressed soft pecks to your cheeks and neck. They were easy and light, so quick and delicate on your skin that they could’ve been raindrops. Your eyes slid closed with bliss. Whatever you were going to say was lost to the feeling of her chest pressing into your own and the sweet subtle hum between your legs.
“Are you alright?” Brienne murmured, shoving her mouth against the space above your heart to grant it the sweetest of kisses.
All you could give her, your darling warrior, was a pleased grunt. You were more than alright. You were loved. Cared for. You were pleasured within an inch of your life and intelligent conversation was far above you then. Perhaps after a warm night together, you’d be able to return the favor in the morning. Though Brienne was never the type of woman to care so much about reciprocation, and the soft amused snort she responded with was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.
“Can I- tomorrow- hng.” You stuttered, waving your hand like a white flag in the air. Too tired to bother stringing together a proper sentence.
Brienne’s smile was small and full of pride when she sat up.
“Rest now, love,” she leaned in and swiped her thumb along your cheek, silently admiring you in all of your sensitive glory. “And we’ll see about tomorrow.”
Well. You heard the woman. And there was no need for her to tell you twice.
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Short but sweet. - Rip x
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Tags: @oddball21 @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @opalthefrog @shyladyfan @erablaise-blog @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @lex13cm @sugipla @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @eveymay @one-pining-queer @azu-zu @niceminipotato @syrenacrainn @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @scarlettssub @willisnotmental @gela123 @zillahofviolets-bayolet @the-bearr @amateurwritescm @h-doodles
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knowledgeableknife · 4 months
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orientedgal · 1 year
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Here are my designs for my Zebrafish elementary school AU! (Inspired by Arthur) Everyone is 8 (except budding 6th grader Walt,who's 11. I never saw Tanya being older than her friends. All of them seem the same age,except for Walt,who seems older),and are best friends who have a pretend band. While Tanya still gets cancer in my AU,it's treated in a way like how Arthur touched the subject. In my AU,Walt's not as emotional,and plays lacrosse. Tanya has dark brown hair like her big brother,but with pink streaks,and is an animal lover. Vita religiously watches Hannah Montana and thinks she's the coolest 3rd grader there is. Plinko is a comedian-in-training and likes Spongebob and fart jokes. Jay volunteers at Help House Missionaries (a fictional organization I made up),a church-owned shelter for immigrants and refugees,with Jay being adopted from India at age 2. He's Plinko's best friend and literal. #zebrafish #fanfictionwriter #youngartistsofinstagram #alternateuniverse #elementaryschool #thirdgrade #fanart https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl7CqvJrVve/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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mysticraven20 · 9 months
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Curiosity is spiking… where do you prefer to read your fics?
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koulakoukoula2003 · 2 years
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My rule is that when my fic ends up being too big (+200k) it MUST have a happy ending because there are ppl who have READ ALL OF IT ok? And the least I can do is reward them with some happiness and peace.
But that doesn't mean it won't be a hell till you get there 😈😈😈😈
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Got the AO3 account up and running! Come check out my sequel for Dark Side of Dimensions and it's newest chapter! The more feedback I get, the more I update!
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