#i cannot handle anything else this week

[ex0rin]

me, sad and exhausted: but what if i make other people sad too with pictures that move

[triplethewinds]

i just cannot believe all of this happens within minutes. what do you mean it’s several years for us but not for them? what do you mean months have to go by for us to find out what happens while it’s not even an hour for them?? whole lives are written. and now animated. and it’s really fucking with my heart and emotional brain.

[ohsweetflips]

tbh the thing abt coming into myself vis a vis gender is that there is the realization that, at least for the foreseeable future, there is a very tangible (and already very present) “limit” to how far i can take. any kind of transitioning.

[sayaratyriea]

i am craving Creative Activity so badly but law school sucked away my spoons to write by myself… so i’m reliant on friends and rp… and all my friends want to do is play overwatch (which i don’t play and don’t want to) or watch tv shows which is fundamentally less interesting and does not scratch the itch….. the adhd gremlins are shredding my skull from the inside out at this point :( send help

[night-creeps]

I have the worst fucking timing. Been falling more into punk and general anarchist thinking/bands/artists/ect ect ect lately but I Also just started an accounting course. And let me tell you. Being told I would 'learn about cryptocurrency' and preached to about networking and your value only in a corporate sense is having me gritting my teeth hoo boy. I rly wish I could just skip past the first week of the 'basic career skills' and get to the stupid fucking software certification that is the main thing I need. Rly wish I could do that

[feinyan]

DATING HEADCANONS featuring. satoru gojo, itadori yuji, megumi fushiguro and toge inumaki.

some random small dating headcanons involving the jujutsu kaisen boys. no tags, just fluff. enjoy.

gojo, who would sacrifice the world and everyone in it for you. who knows the dangers of letting himself be so vulnerable with someone, but can't help but want to offer everything to you. he would do anything for your smile, for the moments you give him which he treasures so closely to his heart. gojo, who cannot keep his hands off of you. who, to be frank, does not understand the concept of personal space. whos constantly finding an excuse to slide his arm around your shoulder, your waist, or to hold your hand. gojo, who spoils you!!! so so so much. who sees something thats hellishly expensive that you'd even slightly like and doesn't think twice before buying it. who brings you bags of goodies or expensive designer stuff he thinks you'd look just right in when returning from overseas missions. gojo, who to no surprise, loves to tease to get reactions out of you. who doesn't know how to quit it. he's just so fond of your flustered face, or the way you stare at him with pouty eyes after he says something that makes your heart race. gojo, who loves to switch up the nicknames he uses on you. who calls you princess when you're pouty, or calls you ma'am when you're upset. who in a whiny, dragged out tone says "babyyyyy," when you say no to something stupid he suggests.

itadori, who is the most respectful, sweetest boy ever. it doesn't come as a surprise, but hes soooo polite with everything he does. he holds doors open for you, walks on the close-to-road part of the sidewalk when you walk together, holds your bags for you, or buttons up your jackets. small, yes, but meaningful things. itadori, who loves to take pictures of you!!! who is constantly changing his lockscreen to different photos of you, because ohhh, you're so cute and you look good in everything! he can't decide what to stick with. itadori, who is sooooo gentle with you. who knows he could hurt you on accident, and dies a little at the thought of that. he treats you with so much care, his touch is so gentle regardless of if its in the way he holds you or kisses you. or does anything really. itadori, who gives you his first for everything. who wants to be yours for his lifetime, and experience everything he possibly can with you. despite knowing the dangers he could be to you, and knowing that wanting you forever is selfish, but he can't help himself when you mean just about everything to him. itadori, who cannot hide things for the life of him. who buys you a cute gift for an upcoming special occasion, and immediately blurts it out that he got you it the moment he sees you. or who gets told something thats a secret by someone else, and says "okay, don't tell them i told you, 'kay? but,"

megumi, who tries soooo hard to impress you. who puts more effort into his training, or offers to do something he usually wouldn't when you're around. he's not even sure if he notices the change himself, but his classmates like yuji and nobara sure do! megumi, who is constantly glued to your side. unintentionally following you around, or offering to hold your things or walk you places just so he has the opportunity to be with you just a little longer. megumi, who not so secretly adores the attention you give him. who grumbles about your touch, or constant hand holding, but if you're not clinging onto him he'll complain, "it's cold today. my hands are freezing," even in the scorching hot. who pretends to not listen to your babbling in his ears, but proves you wrong by bringing up something you'd mentioned you like even briefly in a conversation weeks later. megumi, who lends you his clothing and can't help but stare. if it's cold, he'll slide his jacket over your shoulders and a scarf around your neck. sure, maybe he's freezing his ass off, but he can handle it if it means seeing you happy. megumi, who doesn't understand why you want him. but he understands fully why he wants you. who pictures you as someone made for him, who can't get every little interaction you two share out of his head. who denied his feelings for so long yet came to accept them. he knows he wants to be someone you're able to rely on, or can turn to when you want to feel safe. he would give you everything and try his hardest for you, even if he'd never admit it.

inumaki, who sends you little screenshots from his games that remind you of him. who see's a cute, whimsical little creature in a game and thinks 'cute. i should show this to s/o' inumaki, who has his phone on him constantly so he can text you. who is constantly sending you messages, or finding excuses to talk to you, and is surprisingly good at communication for someone that's unable to properly speak. inumaki, who makes up for your lack of verbal communication with displays of affection. who simply enjoys your presence more than anything. who stands closest to you no matter what you're doing, holds your hands all the time or follows you around. inumaki, who despite not being able to speak in anything other than ingredients, is a d1 yapper. looooves to text you silly shit, and yeah .. he plays a lot of online games, so sometimes he'll accidentally treat you like a homie instead of a s/o. whoopsie!! but its never serious. who drags you into his pranks, but always has to deal with the consequences himself :( inumaki, who wants to share his hobbies and interests with you. watching mukbang together, inviting you to play games even if you have no idea what you're doing. he loves to tease if you're not very good, or 'accidentally' make you lose if you're winning against him. accidental "drop the controller" slips from his lips, but hey, maybe if he's feeling nice he'll offer a win out of pity.

@ feinyan

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Well- Tailored Affair

Alastor x female! reader

Summary: Being The Radio Demon's one and only personal tailor has it own perks.

A/N- Sorry I have been gone for quite some time!! But I'm back, I had NOOOOOO idea what to write and this thought came to me mid sleep at like 12am So anyways I hope you enjoy!

ALSO this was gonna proofread because I didn't have time and I missed yall so sorry if it sucks 💀

Being a tailor in Hell was no small feat, especially when your main client was none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. When you first took the job, you didn’t expect it to be much of a challenge working with his specific tastes. But over time, you came to know him like the back of your hand.

Today, he was scheduled for a fitting. He had dropped off a newer jacket last week but he said he had business to attend to and he'd come back next week and that was today. As always, the atmosphere of your small shop—which wasn’t far from the hotel—was calm and cozy. You were currently cross-stitching a dress for Rosie for some type of event in Cannibal Town when, suddenly, the bell above the door jingled. There he was. Alastor stepped inside with his signature grin, accompanied by the hum of radio static. The aura he carried was palpable. The moment he entered, you could feel the air shift.

"Ah, my favorite tailor!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms wide before resting his hands on the microphone in front of him. With a slight tilt of his head, he asked, "Have you missed me?"

You chuckled softly, stepping away from your work and already reaching for the measuring tape. "You were here last week, Alastor. Hardly enough time to miss anyone." You smiled. His grin didn’t falter, though you didn’t notice how his crimson eyes lingered on you longer than usual. Truth be told, Alastor liked you. More than he should, and more than he realized. Part of it was the trust he placed in you to handle his precious suits, which were such a vital part of who he was. But it was also because you treated them with such grace. You knew what you were doing and were exceptional at it. Not to mention, you were one of the rare souls in Hell who wasn’t afraid of him. And lastly, you were undeniably pretty—he thought that too.

"Ah, but a week without your company is an eternity, my dear," Alastor replied. You brushed off his words with a smile. He often gave small, sweet compliments about your work and how he missed you, so this wasn’t anything new. Yet today, his words seemed to carry a different meaning.

You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to step onto the fitting platform. In front of him was a large mirror—he loved checking his reflection to ensure he always looked impeccable. "Alright, charmer, let’s see what we’re working with today. Did you tear another sleeve during one of your dramatics?" you teased, looking from the sleeve up into his eyes.

He let out a melodic laugh. "Guilty as charged! I simply cannot help myself. Life—or afterlife, rather—demands a flair for the theatrical!"

As you worked, your hands expertly adjusted the fabric of his jacket. You noticed his gaze drifting to you frequently. At first, you thought he might be scrutinizing your technique, but no—this was different. His grin softened ever so slightly whenever he thought you weren’t looking. Watching your focused expression gave him an odd fluttering sensation, almost like butterflies in his stomach.

"You’re very precise," he remarked, his voice quieter than usual.

"Kind of comes with the job," you replied with a smile, pinning a sleeve in place. "Can’t have the Radio Demon walking around in anything less than perfection, right?"

"Indeed. And you, my dear, are perfection. I must confess, I’ve never trusted anyone else with my suits. You have an extraordinary talent."

You paused, caught off guard by the bold confession—especially coming from him. "Thank you, Alastor. That means a lot," you said, grabbing the needle and thread.

"And," he added, tilting his head as though studying a particularly fascinating piece of art, "it doesn’t hurt that you’re quite easy on the eyes." Was he kidding? He had to be, right? Your cheeks flushed instantly, and you nearly dropped the pin you were holding. "Oh! Uh, thanks."

He noticed your reaction and chuckled, clearly amused. "Did I fluster you? My, my, how delightful!" Alastor grinned, watching you through the mirror. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "Stop moving," you muttered, focusing on adjusting the flaps on his suit. You finished stitching up the rip on his sleeve with a clean, neat stitch—it was a relatively easy fix.

The silence grew heavy until he broke it. "You’re one of the only few who doesn’t fear me, you know… It’s refreshing."

"Well, I figured if you were going to do something to me, you would’ve done it already," you replied with a smirk, stepping back to admire your work. Alastor’s grin widened. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I find your company far too enjoyable to spoil."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "Alright, smooth talker, you’re good to go. You can come and pick it up in 24 hours." You watched as he stepped down from the platform, adjusted his jacket, the one he came in with and turned to face you. "Splendid! I’ll be counting the seconds until I see your lovely presence again!" He started toward the door but paused, looking back over his shoulder with that ever-present grin. "Oh, and my dear, do save a moment for tea when I return. I’d like to enjoy more of your delightful company." You smiled, shaking your head. "You better not rip your coat on purpose in the next 24 hours!" you shouted after him.

You heard his laugh echo as he left, leaving you standing in the middle of your shop, flustered and smiling despite yourself. Maybe being Alastor’s tailor wasn’t so bad after all.

[littlcdarlin]

Dad!Joel headcanons (Jackson)

warnings: big age gap (unspecified), reader calls Joel Daddy (as in he’s her baby daddy), pregnancy, mention of labour, afab!reader, in my mind Joel has a breeding kink but it’s not explicitly mentioned

note: for the person who requested this <3 hope it lives up to your expectations! For my own sanity, Sarah never existed in this. I cannot handle Joel having another kid after losing her, and I don’t think I will ever write that tbh. Also, the picture in the middle made me cry.

When you tell Joel you think you’re pregnant he doesn’t believe it for a full five minutes (which you find amusing after how hard he tried to accomplish just that) — then he cries

He worries a lot during your pregnancy and babyproofs the house best as he can, using materials Tommy & Maria can spare

One thing he loves about your pregnancy is that whenever you have sex, he doesn't have to pull out, and he makes good use of that newfound freedom

He builds a cradle by himself, surprising you one evening with a set-up nursery: he painted the walls while you were on greenhouse duty with some paint Maria gave him, and even found some cushions to put into the cradle

When you get insecure about the way your body changes, he lets you know how beautiful you are to him, regardless of size or skin condition or anything else

When you start to show people start whispering because of your difference in age, but he brushes them off, so proud to be your baby daddy

He holds your hand the entire time you're in labour, and you squeeze so hard you bruise his bones – the midwife says his fingers might be broken, but he doesn't pay her any mind, not when your baby is almost here

When your little girl is born, Joel is terrified of holding her small body, afraid he'll drop or hurt her somehow, but you reassure him he can do it, and when he does, her tiny body fits into his arms perfectly

You've never seen him cry so much as during the first couple of weeks – a yawn, or sigh, or blink from your daughter will do it, tears streaming down his cheeks

He asks Tommy to be Godfather, and after he accepts, any past fights are forgotten and they start spending more time together

As your daughter gets older, Joel and her bond over all sorts of things. She's fascinated with bugs, so he takes her "bug hunting": they try and find as many insects as they can, Joel drawing small pictures of them into a notebook, while she observes their behavior. By the time she's seven, she's got her own bug lexicon

Sometimes you and Joel disagree on certain rules or privileges for your daughter: you figure self defense is an important skill, but Joel doesn't want her to touch a weapon, ever. In the end you settle on teaching her combat

When you see the pride in Joel's eyes whenever he looks at your daughter, you jokingly call him Daddy – that night he fucks you so deep you think you're having ten more babies just from that

You're adamant about teaching your kids a healthy perception of gender-roles, and you know the age difference between Joel and you sometimes results in traditional roles. Joel agrees with you and asks Maria to get a day a week off of patrols to do household chores, etc.

While your daughter is little, you're allowed to stay home with her, but as soon as she starts classes in the little makeshift school in Jackson, you start working again – sometimes in the greenhouses, sometimes on patrols, and sometimes in the kitchens

Joel and you never go on patrol together – partly because someone has to watch your kid, and partly because of how dangerous it is outside of Jackson. You want to make sure if something happens to either of you on patrol, she still has a parent left

Tommy and Maria take her one night a week so that you and Joel can have some time to yourselves – between clickers, kitchen shifts and raising a kid, romance tends to fall a little short

Some nights you have dinner in your house and cuddle up on the couch together, finally having a whole evening to talk to each other and enjoy each other's presence, and often Joel sneaks you a little surprise treat, like a peace of chocolate, a flower he found on patrol, etc.

Most weeks your free night results in sex – before you had a kid he fucked you almost every morning and night, but there's less time for that now. In the beginning you miss it a lot, but you quickly learn to appreciate the built up, week-long tension: Joel is insatiable, using your precious hours to find as many ways of making you come as he can. It's worth even Tommy's knowing grin in the morning, when both of you have to stifle your yawns

When your daughter is old enough to want to play with toys, Joel starts carving wooden animals for her. He's more handy than you realized, the little toys have lots of character, and Joel's face always lights up when he watches your daughter name them

He loves singing her to sleep, his deep honeyed voice perfect for soft lullabies, and you often catch him making up sweet texts to familiar melodies

You know he wants more children, but he doesn’t press it, not wanting to rush you into the decision. Sooner than you thought you start to miss being pregnant and the magical time after giving birth. You know you’re one of the only people in the world able to have children in safety, and every day you watch your girl grow up healthy and happy you’re thankful for it

When you tell Joel you want another one during one of your date nights, he’s over the moon and makes love to you as often as he can “to make sure it takes the first time ‘round”. By the time he’s done with you, you’re an exhausted, happy, dripping mess

It does take — when you tell Joel your period is late a short while after that night, he swoops you up in his arms and the three of you celebrate as a family that evening, Joel cooking dinner instead of going to the dining hall

[motherjanerainy]

booktok cannot handle unfriendly or emotionally complex female characters. show them a woman who’s a little problematic and they start shaking and shitting themselves. women can be either be martyrs or victims, anything else and ppl short circuit. men can be fucked up emotionally manipulative mass murders but if women have one unpalatable emotion they’re drawn & quartered.

if booktok bitches saw the female characters i liked they would piss blood for a week !!!!

[honeygrahambitch]

"Even Will Graham has a better sex life than I do." Jimmy said, as if he had been holding that sentence inside for too long.

Beverly and Brian abandoned the blood samples they were working on and looked at him in disbelief as if they were trying to make sure they got it right.

"One question would be how do you know that?" Brian asked. "I doubt Will is the type to talk about stuff like that."

"That's easy, haven't you seen Hannibal?" Beverly asked rolling her eyes.

"I am not particularly into men."

"You don't have to be in order to tell that someone must excel in bed. It's the attitude."

"Stop that." Jimmy interrupted their banter. "I overheard a discussion between the two of them."

"Do we really need to know?" Brian said as he looked at Beverly for support. However, her opinion was different.

"Share."

"Alright but this doesn't leave the lab. It stays between us." Jimmy said. After all, Will was his friend and he didn't have anything against Hannibal. He was usually not the one to gossip but this felt like something that needed to be debated. "They are having a threesome."

"No way." Beverly said as she elbowed Brian who remained dumb.

"Who's the lucky lady?" Brian asked.

"Why did you immediately assume it's a lady?"

"For more diversity? I don't know how these things work?"

"Can you shut up and listen?" Jimmy cut them off. "I overheard Will asking Hannibal whether their plans for the night have changed. Hannibal had said that they did not and then pulled out this business card and handed it to Will. Will was like- a sport trainer? He will be a handful."

"I told you it's a man!" Beverly told Brian then turned back to Jimmy. "That doesn't prove anything though."

"Maybe if you two listened I could get to the point. So, Will said that and Hannibal was amused and said "I am confident we can handle him. Cannot be worse than the one last week. I was not proud of the way we left his bedroom"."

"Shut up..." Brian whispered. Beverly didn't say anything, her lips parted in disbelief. "And then?"

"Then Will said...damn, I hate that I have to repeat his words but he said..."He was bigger than either of us expected. I mean, for a finance guy, he was quite a challenge. My back still hurts."" Jimmy went on. "And Hannibal was like "the one we are having tonight will definitely be in good shape. I will be there, I am not letting him touch you.""

"Christ." Beverly said. "And?"

"And Will said "As if I need you to take care of me. Remember how the one from two weeks ago surprised you from behind? You were lucky I was there." Then they noticed me because of the stupid coffee machine who started beeping. And I swear to God, their surprised expressions indicated exactly the fact that I was not supposed to hear that."

"Wow." Brian said thoughtfully. "Every week. Good for them. That's how you keep things interesting in a relationship."

"I wouldn't have believed Hannibal would share Will with anyone." Beverly commented.

"Will might have a say in that?" Jimmy suggested. "Anyway, I couldn't believe it. I was afraid I took things out of context maybe?"

"Definitely not." Beverly said. "What else could they have been talking about?"

***

"Do you think Jimmy overhead us earlier?" Will said as he looked for their knives in the trunk of the car.

"I doubt it. It doesn't prove anything. We were quite subtle." Hannibal replied as he put his scalpel in his left pocket. "Ready? He must be home by now."

"Let's go. I don't want to spend the whole night butchering this guy. By the way, what did he do?"

"Insinuated I do not take my physical health seriously."

"He just hasn't seen what's underneath that suit." Will replied, making Hannibal smile.

[inbabylontheywept]

So: You have depression.

I'm 27 now. The last time I had a major depressive episode was when I was 16. I still have depressive episodes every now and then, but the worst tend to be a month, and most I can generally get through them in about a week. It took me a while to kind of figure out how to handle depression as a recurring thing, and so I thought I'd make a little welp-I-got-diagnosed-now-what guide.

So, first part of the guide: When I first got depressed, I thought that depression was the terrible, sad hopeless feeling that I had. It isn't. That terrible sad hopeless feeling is a symptom of prolonged depression. By the time I get to that point, I'm pretty well cooked and it takes a lot longer to bounce back. Avoiding getting to that point is a vital part of living with depression.

So what does depression feel like?

I am going to hammer this point home a lot of times while writing this: Depression is an anesthetic. It is not felt as a presence, but as an absence. The first absence, for me at least, is when life stops being fun. Every movie feels boring, I can't get more than a few pages into any book, and everything just seems... bland.

This is the best point to catch it at. I have found that consumptive patterns of entertainment do not do anything to help depression. Some people have told me that producing art at this time really helps them, but personally, I can't imagine trying. Instead, I just do tasks that I know inspire physical satisfaction. Which sounds like jerking off (I don't actually reccomend that route) but really means things like: Going for a walk in the sunshine. Working out. Cleaning the house in a fairly exhaustive way. Scrub the baseboards, wash the sink, clear the fridge, etc.

I recognize that doing those is really, really hard while depressed because depression causes physical weakness and exhaustion. The best I can do is, unfortunately, encourage vigillance. If you suspect you're getting into a funk, start on this before you get really deep into the mire. People that get into the mire can get out, but it's not self-help read-a-book type shit, it takes therapy and medication and patience and it is so much easier and cheaper and faster to just avoid letting it get that bad then crawling out once it's sunk its teeth into you.

I have found that for things that work almost by exposure alone, spending time in the sun and talking to people are borderline magical, with the caveat that talking to people about being depressed tends to make things worse instead of better. Talking about anything that cuts through the anesthetic of depression is ideal, or if it's sunk in deep enough that you're having trouble finding anything, talking to someone else about what they're passionate about. Ideally, you'd find someone passionate about a thing you know you're passionate about but are struggling to enjoy right then, and then you'd just let your mirror neurons run amok. Bonus Points

So, you're already depressed. Like, pretty fucking depressed, and you fucked up, and you let it slide. What then?

This is my I-Fucked-Up-And-Got-Big-Sad, Salvage-My-Weekend, depression routine. You'll need to make one for yourself at some point, and yours will work better for you, but this is mine and I think it'll work okay-ish for you. Until you get your own, at least.

I have to get up before 10 am. Staying in bed later than that gives the depression such a huge head start on my day that I just basically can't catch up. If I can't just brute force get myself out of bed, I will throw my blankets and sit cold on my sheets until that gives me the motivation I need. If I cannot work up the guts to throw my blankets, I will actually roll off the bed, flop gracelessly onto the floor, and then stare wistfully up until I can will myself to stand. It helps that every bedroom I've had either had freezing cold tile, or itchy coarse carpet. If you have a comfy floor, maybe buy a very scratchy rug? I cannot emphasize how important this step is. It's like, half of the whole thing.

After getting up, immediately go outside and sit in the sunshine. This provides free executive function, and getting it ASAP will make everything go much smoother.

Talk to someone while outside. If you have a roommate, they work great. Face to face conversations tend to be the best, but phone calls with loved ones are like at least 80% as effective. Calls to family members tend to be better than in face conversations with acquaintances or people you're mostly ambivalent about. Don't do chat messages. Worse than nothing.

This should have scrounged up enough free energy that you can clean something. I always start by trying to clear a part of my counter off. If that's all I got, that's all I got, and I still feel good about it. If that inspires me to do more, I'll run with it until a whole room is up to snuff. I don't do more than one room while I'm this crispy: The goal is not really to clean the house, but to work through a series of tasks that require some initial level of executive function but provide a larger amount back once completed. Life has a lot of these deals that are like, give me $10 and I'll give you $12, give me $12 and I'll give you $20, on and on, and the hard part is really just getting the $10. Some people wake up with $10. Most days, you will wake up with $10. But not when you're like this. You're gonna have to earn it. I'm sorry.

I am going to reiterate: This is what I do when I feel a funk coming on. My life and my schedule are not always this regimented. Living with depression doesn't mean never sleeping until 10, or having a weekend where you don't talk to someone, or take a break from cleaning. Living with depression just means never, ever, leaning into the depression when you feel it coming on. Even when it starts out feeling cozy. Even when you want to just snuggle into it and sleep and sleep and sleep. The first day or two will feel luxurious, and the next week will feel terrible, and the longer you wait the harder it will be to get out. You are always going to have to worry about that. Again, I'm really, truly sorry.

Bonus Bonus Points

I am not a psychologist, but I do have a theory about why depression exists. Remember how I said it's anesthetizing? I think that's what it's there for - getting rid of emotional pain when it isn't being helpful. People often get depressed after a major injury. Boredom is normally nature's way of punishing you for just curling up and doing nothing, but depression can be the emergency override on boredom. It makes sense for you to sit still and do nothing while your body is healing, so maybe nature temporarily removes all your motivation with depression and then just lets you be a limp noodle until you're healthy again. Maybe?

Back to the emotional level, though, depression might also be a way to muffle pains that would otherwise be so intense that people might not remain in control of the faculties. The pain of losing a parent is notorious for driving people so mad with pain that they ruin their lives, but depression is there to at least try and keep us sedated until the nadir has passed.

It is helpful to know what the purpose of depression is, because you will eventually get it from an "intended" cause, and reflexively fighting it then probably isn't good for you. And at the very least, knowing why this stupid thing exists makes the world feel like less of a cruel place.

There are a lot of interesting studies on the physical effects of depression - things like muscle weakness, increased pain tolerance, muscle relaxation, etc. that I won't go into, but it does so many things at once that it almost doesn't feel like a fuck up, but a feature that we just kind of lost the plot on. Not gonna deep dive on it, but it is something that probably shouldn't be confined to just a mental disorder.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

[flamingpudding]

The Ghost King is my Uncle Drabbles #2

A/N: Some more linked to a prompt week writing I did

>>Masterpost

Original this builds on: Link

Rowdy Cousin

Batman swore internally, from the outside he stoically sat in his chair and did nothing to indicate the absolute chaos that was going on in his mind. The Meeting rooms light flickered and the speakers once more started up loudly blaring a song all over the Watchtower. He was pretty sure one of his sons had told him once that playing that song was a meme.

"Someone do something about that kid! He is Rickrolling us!" Green Lantern screamed above the music.

"Constantine is already trying to do something." Superman's hands covering his sensitive ears as the music must sound to him even louder.

Batman very much only looped one thought in his head. -It's only for world ending purpose, I cannot use it right now.-

He had a responsibility to uphold, he was the patriarch of the earth branch family. This was not something that required him to use that. No he would not use it. He refused. This was not a world ending matter. Surely Constantine or anyone else of the Justice League Dark would solve this problem any second now.

The screens flicker and Batman did anything he could in his mind to not let his eye twitch even if no one would be able to see it. Cat videos were playing where second earlier statistics and observatory programs had been running.

No he would not, they could handle this problem no need to involve family.

The music stopped and some of his hero colleagues let out a relieved sigh only for a familiar laugh to echo through the watchtower and a new song starting to play. One that apparently counts all 100 dumb ways to die.

"Why is Klarion even targeting the watchtower like this?!" The Flash shouted over the lyrics before turning to him.

"Did one of your kids piss him off or something?!"

"No." At least not as far as he knew, though considering the recent discovery as well as the surprise visits his uncle had done lately he might have a guess why the witch boy was targeting them right now. Didn't mean he would elaborate this reason to the other heroes present.

Before Wonder Woman could comment John Constantine stormed in the room and slammed his hands down onto the table staring right at Batman with blood shot eyes. "Call him."

"Who?"

"Don't play fucking dumb bats. You know who I mean. This is not the witch brat alone. There is another entity and if you don't want the fucking watchtower crashing into earth you call him right now."

"Bats, he is not talking about who I think he is?" Superman carefully asked while the other heroes looked at him just as questionable.

He held his staring contest with Constantine a little longer before he grunted and reached into his utility belt pulling out a small bat-shaped pendant. A personalized upgraded calling card, his uncle had gifted to him as well as each of his children and extended family members.

This was not how he imagined a meeting in regards to his new discoveries and a possible sure fire contingency plan against world ending emergencies would go. He rubbed his thumb against the engraving waiting for a short moment for it to pulse, before tapping the pendant three times, paused and tapped it two more times. This was a non-emergency call, even if his colleagues might disagree.

He still thought they could very well handle this situation without the help of his uncle.

"BABY BAT, YOU CALLED THIS IS THE FIRST TIME YOU DID!"

The present heroes watched in stunned fashion how a white haired, 20 years old man stepped out of a green portal and instantly zoomed across the room to hug THE Batman around his head rubbing his cheek against the bat's cowl mindful of the pointy parts.

And Batman was letting the man do that only looking resigned.

"We agreed that I would only call on you with this pendant for emergencies."

The white haired man only hummed before his head turned sharply and green glowing eyes narrowed at Constantine, who visibly paled and took a step back standing straight and looking very much like he regretted what he had asked Batman to do. "Trading game is not being rude to you is he?"

The bat only grunted and the white haired man finally let go of him, humming as he took in his surroundings, eyes glinting in mischievously as he saw the flickering lights, animal videos on screen and heard the blaring music over the speaker. "When I okey-ed Klarion to go playing with his cousins I didn't think he would seek you two out. He had been talking about his older cousins starting another game of 'who's the better demon lord' in different dimensions. I thought he was joining their bet."

Wait did he say two? Batman grunted and the white haired guy chuckled. "I will be back in a second."

Not even the Flash could react as fast as the white haired man disappeared and reappeared with Klarion next to him. Clearly pulling on the witch boy's ear like a father would when their child had been naughty. The flickering lights and blaring of music over the speakers had stopped.

"Ow DAD what in the name of chaos are you doing here."

"Your Cousin called me. You are disturbing his work and risking them crashing into earth with Technus' help."

"YOU SNITCHED TO MY DAD?!"

"Hn."

"Technus get out of their network or I will lock you up on a Medieval Island for three decades."

As if the present heroes weren't confused enough a face appeared on one of the screens. Glaring at the white haired man. "You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me, if you stay in there any longer. I will also dig out the old thermos and soup you additionally for a decade or more."

The face on screen grumbled and the heroes nearly flinched back as a ghostly, green skinned man came out of it, looking every bit frustrated and annoyed. "I was just getting a good look at this modern technology, you have banned me from any big shot Industries…"

"We had that discussion 100 years ago, Technus. Back to the Ghost Zone." The white haired man commanded by opening a portal next to them with the wave of his hand and surprisingly, the green skinned guy listened.

"Sorry about this Baby Bat and Little Demi. Klarion will be grounded for a bit and re-educated in how to bond without risking potentially killing any bystanders. Oh and remember I will come by later for Baby Ghost to get his checkup with Frostbite!"

"Dad, please no grounding! Anything but that!"

"I am sure your Grandpa will be happy to have your help during your grounding."

"Dad! NO! I don't want to keep time in order! I live for chaos not order!"

The man was just smiling and completely ignoring Klarion's complains as he turned towards Batman and Wonder Woman, for reasons the hero's didn't understand.

"Well we will be on our way then Baby Bat, Little Demi!"

Batman grunted and the white haired man chuckled, leaving through the portal and dragging along a whining Klarion, who apparently was that man's son.

Just before the portal closed, the man stuck his head back out looking towards Wonder Woman with a mischievous smile. "Oh before I forget! Pops Clockwork sents his regards Little Demi . He doesn't want me saying this, but he is glad about the path you choose. Says you're set on a pretty good timeline!"

The head disappeared into the portal again and it finally closed. Wonder Woman was left blinking at the empty space, her mouth slightly open with the silent question of "What?"

"Bats, who was that?" The Flash was the first to break the silence that had followed as eyes turned to the dark knight.

"His Uncle." / "The Ghost King."

Superman and Constantine spoke at the same time. The JLD member flinched back as he looked at the glowering bat. Muttering something the man took his leave or rather escaped the room as quickly as possible as Batman kept glaring. Meanwhile Wonder Woman was slowly having a crisis of her own as suddenly family relations that had been hinted to her through Pandora made sense. "Clockwork... no, Titan Cronus? The Ghost King... Uncle Daniel?"

Chaos broke among the present heroes.

"WHAT UNCLE?!"

[jeon-ify]

thoughts - choi san ft. mingi (part 2)

a/n: idk girl… i kinda want mingi to fuck her with tied up san and make him watch 😩

warnings: mean!dom mingi, sub!tied up san, swearing, pussy slapping, fingering, squirting, mingi fucks reader in front of san, spit play, face slapping, degradation, titty slapping, etc. if i missed anything lmk !

enjoy! not proofread :)

—————————————————————————————

the 2 weeks went by extremely fast, considering how you’ve spent it with san the entire time— in and out of his dorm. you felt guilty, but he was filling that void for you.

the drive to the airport felt like a dread. you wanted mingi to come back, honestly. but you didn’t want to go back to the vanilla sex that you’d been having with your boyfriend from this point on. you pull into the lane with doubt, maybe he’s upped his sex game, maybe he doesn’t want sex anymore. you think about ways to bring up the topic, but it just doesn’t flow.

you swerve into the lane to wait for mingi. after 20 minutes, you get out of the car and wait in the airport lobby for him. he arrives shortly, running to hug you and seeming so tired after working so hard. he wanted to surprise you with his project, but the last thing that was on your mind throughout those two weeks were what he was doing in japan.

“my baby, i missed you so much! how was japan?” you exclaim. he hugs you tightly, kissing you all over your face. your heart ached before him, not knowing how to handle the guilt.

how could you?

“it was so great, but i missed you so much, y/n.” he relaxes his head on your shoulder through the hug, your body warmth making him sleepy.

you carry his backpack and take his duffles to the car as he follows you out. he sits beside you, turning up the radio and listening to your playlist. “what’d you do while i was gone? we barely spoke.”

his head turns to face you as he questions you. it feels like you’re being convicted of a felony, your heart falls to your ass as you try to come up with a lie. he watches your breathing change and your face flush with red.

“honestly i was super bored. i…” you pause, taking in a deep breath and chuckling before continuing your bullshit, “don’t know how i managed. how was your filmmaking? was it exciting?”

he stays quiet, his face straight, plastered with suspicion.

“it was exciting, thanks. what’d you do the day i left? yeosang said you stopped by. what was that about?” you literally cannot come up with anything else, so you decide to ‘tell the truth’.

“i was bored so i hung out with wooyoung and jongho for a little bit but then i went home, why?” you reach a red light as mingi grabs your thigh, squeezing tightly. he squeezes almost too tight that it begins to hurt.

“mm, but they weren’t at the house, y/n. what were you doing there?” he looks out the window, trying to think of what he’ll do when you confess and make it easier so he’s not worried about if you’re cheating or not— he’d just know. he hopes he’s wrong, though.

“n-no. mingi, you’re hurting me.” he squeezes your inner thigh as the car swerves just a little bit out of the lane. you feel like he’s gonna rip a chunk of your thigh off of you, tears welling up in your eyes.

“yeah? it didn’t hurt me when i heard you on the phone fucking san? do you think i’m stupid, y/n? i told you not to go near san, didn’t i?” you fall silent as your ears begin to ring.

he knew.

but san didn’t say anything?

but he heard your voice.

“fucking answer me,” he brings his hand up to your throat to cut off your airways as a threat to make you speak.

“y-yes,” you gasp. you literally feel like your body gave up on you as your limbs all fall numb into mingi’s touch.

“why are you fucking my friends? the one friend i told you to fucking stay away from. he’s married, hm? you’re home-wrecking, darling. are you a whore? are you san’s whore?”

“n-no, mingi, please,” you moan. he lets you go as you pull into the driveway of your home, seeing a familiar car parked in the front.

leaving all his luggage in the trunk, he slams the door closed as he goes to open your door. he pulls you out by your wrist, slamming the door shut behind you and dragging you into the house. you stop in your tracks when you see a familiar pair of shoes on the doormat.

“keep walking.” he demands. your legs shake in fear and somehow, arousal. mingi has never been this rough with you, and somehow it sends a shock down to your core.

you slowly walk over to your shared bedroom, opening the door and seeing what you thought you’d never see— san on your bed.

you stop and stare at the man on mingi’s side of the bed. he’s sat up straight with his hands tied behind his back, his feet tied together, and a black piece of duct tape on his mouth. a layer of sweat envelopes his toned torso, his black hair slowly moves with every breath he takes. the silver chain he wears is now covered in beads of sweat as the veins in his neck become more prominent. you would be lying if you said that you didn’t want to bounce on his dick at that given moment.

you feel mingi’s chest press against your back as his hand moves to wrap itself around your throat. he feels your heartbeat through your neck, gulping in fear.

“what’s wrong, baby? cat got your tongue?” his deep voice grumbles in your ear. his teeth graze against your ear, sending chills down your body.

“m-mingi, what’s going on?” you shake and try to break away from mingi’s grasp, not breaking eye contact with the man tied up on your boyfriend’s side of the bed.

“you thought i wouldn’t know if you were whoring around with my friends? i’m many things, but i’m not stupid.” he lets go of you, shoving you further into the room and closer to san.

you hear san whimper, his head thrown back in irritation from how he can’t fuck you into oblivion in front of your boyfriend.

san loved so many things about you— but what he loved the most was how turned on he gets whenever you get helpless. you’re like a brainless whore he wants to fuck over and over— just for him to use.

it’s almost like a continuous battle between the two— and hopefully, your boyfriend would win. you’re rooting for him.

san groans something that you make out to say “take this off,” but he’s enjoying every minute of it. he feels like he’s gonna cum in his pants from the way mingi is undressing you.

mingi takes your sweats off first, then proceeds to taking off your tanktop. you gasp and try to cover your chest as he takes your bra off with only one hand. when he sees your hands fly up to cover yourself, he pins your wrist between his large hands.

“let’s not act all modest now, y/n.”

he proceeds to sliding your soaked panties off, a string of arousal connected to your pussy makes mingi groan, and san’s eyes roll.

mingi pulls you by your hair and bends you over the dresser in front of san. he stands beside your bare body, staring at san through the reflection of the mirror. both of their breaths pick up at the sight, mingi glaring at san and watching him stare at his naked girlfriend.

“i’m gonna ask you once, y/n. is he better?” mingi challenges you in answering the question you fear your life to answer. of course san was better at sex, but you’d never admit to your boyfriend.

“fuck! no, please—“ you feel your legs weaken as mingi plunges two fingers into your sopping cunt, not giving you the chance to answer his question. he lands a sharp slap onto your cunt, making your body shiver.

“no?” his fingers move quickly, feeling the way you’re about to cum all over his fingers. he feels you sucking him in and clenching around his long fingers, so he pulls out before you could release.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry, mingi.” your breath hitches as you cry out in desperation for a release— and a hint of guilt. you literally feel like karma is biting you in the ass, no matter how pleasured you are.

with your juices all over his middle fingers, mingi’s tall and lean figure walks over to san and rips the tape off of his face. san winces in pain, a smirk plastered all over his face. a soft red tint blankets his skin as he takes in a deep breath and licks his puffy lips.

“open— there you go. taste my girlfriend’s cum all over my fingers.” mingi groans— impossibly but somehow possibly— growing harder at the action of his friend sucking your precum off his fingers.

“she tastes phenomenal, mingi. you’ve missed out.” san breathes out deeply after mingi releases his fingers with a pop. you watch the entire scene happen before you, your thighs clenching with need. you’re taken aback when mingi grips the back of san’s head, forcing him to stand up straight.

“y/n, come here.” you follow his command weakly. you immediately fall to your knees before the two men, legs shaking as mingi moves the strand of hair that delicately falls on your forehead. he makes you seem so innocent, but he knows, and so do you and san know, that that is far from what you are.

san watches as you drool before your boyfriend. “open your mouth, pretty girl,” san speaks up as he lands a wad of spit onto your tongue. you swallow with pride, watching mingi glare at the encounter before him.

“you just open your mouth to anyone, mm?” mingi is upset, but san is so fucking turned on, he literally feels like he’s gonna explode.

you (un)intentionally unzip mingi’s pants, looking san in the eyes. you pull the band of his boxers down, revealing his aching cock, just for you to claim into your throat. you lick a long stripe up the length, not breaking eye contact with san as you so whore-ishly suck on your boyfriend’s cock.

“thinking of me, butterfly? remember me when you fuck him, ‘kay?” the man says as you take mingi’s entire length into your mouth, the aching tip touching the back of your throat making your eyes water.

as his hand starts forming a makeshift ponytail and pushing your head down, san wishing he can break free from the restrains on his hands. he so badly wants to pull out his painful cock and start stroking himself before the both of you.

“mingi, you’re so big. how’s she gonna take you?” san questions, his breath hitching and deepening.

“she’s been stretched out enough. i’m sure you’re loose now from all the dick you’ve been taking while i was gone, yeah?” he pulls you off of his length to throw you onto the bed like a ragdoll.

you gasp at the action, san’s head turning to face you as he whines.

“please, untie me. wanna cum so bad.”

mingi ignores his friend’s cries, moving down to spit on your abused cunt. he slides his tank top off, throwing it somewhere in the room as he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. a sign of care slightly shows in mingi’s eyes, but the way he plunges his cock so hard into you immediately blocks out the kind gesture he gave you. your legs jolt at the powerful and radical thrusts that mingi gives you, crying out for mercy.

“fuck, mingi sl-slow down! it hurts,” you’re not sure if you want him to stop, but it hurts so good.

he lands a painfully sharp slap onto your right tit, making you wince out in pain and pleasure.

“yeah? but you can fuck san for days and not say anything? who’s hurt, darling? which one of us is really hurt?” you feel so fucking guilty. your eyes well up in tears as you try to apologize, because mingi’s given you nothing but love, respect, support, and most of all, he understood you the way no one else could.

how could you do something so terrible to him?

“i’m sorry! i’m so fucking sorry-“ you’re reaching your orgasm, cumming on the base of mingi’s cock. he feels you clenching around him as his thrusts come to a slow. his hand rubs on the red area on your chest, leaving a kiss on the irritated spot.

“yeah? how sorry? use your words,” his deep voice is so beautiful, it almost makes you cum again from the way he’s talking in your ear.

“f-for fucking your friends, i— fuck, please—“ you cry out.

while san watches, a spot on his pants becomes a darker shade, indicating that he literally came in his pants. he’s been moaning and whining and whimpering, all while mingi fucks you senseless.

“listen to me, hyung. if you ever get near my girl again, i’ll fucking kill you, you hear me?” mingi doesn’t face san, nor does he blink. he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he pounds into you deeply, hitting your cervix over and over, making you squirt around him and staining his sheets. his hand caresses your cheek as his warm minty breath fans into your face. his eyes roll to the back of his head, listening to your cries.

san doesn’t answer. instead, he groans and tries to wriggle his hands out of the restraints. he watches his friend fuck you hard, wishing it were him. he’s fucked you all 14 days, he just can’t get enough.

neither can mingi— as he licks up the tears that flow onto your cheeks.

“why are you crying, hm? do you feel sorry for being a slut behind my back?” mingi’s faux concern masks his lust, making you clench around him for the fourth time tonight.

“you’re clenching me so tight, oh my goddd, ‘m not going anywhere,” he pulls out before you can cum around him, standing up to untie san.

“fuck, thank you, mingi.” san hurries to take his pants off and stand before you, stroking his painfully hard cock. mingi watches as san gets off on his own girlfriend, not understanding how he hasn’t killed him yet for looking at you.

“you can fuck her, and don’t hold back. she likes it hard.” mingi speaks up, making your heart drop to your ass as you’re about to cheat on your boyfriend again, in front of him.

“m-mings—“ you’re silenced by san’s hand around your mouth as he immediately plunges his long and familiar cock into your wet, stretched out pussy. he pounds into you almost in an animalistic manner, making your vision cloud and your stomach clench from the painful orgasm.

“don’t call out for him, i’m the one fucking you, look at me.” he groans out as he grabs your chin, forcing you to watch him fuck you again.

mingi sits where san was, jerking off his long and hard length from how hot it was that you were so helpless and ‘innocent’ from fucking someone else.

“slap her.”

san lands a sharp slap on the left side of your face, grabbing your jaw and moving you back into place just to slap you again.

he repeats the action one more time as you slap him back. his thrusts stop. feeling disrespected and taken aback, san thrusts into you harder as your body jolts and shakes. you squirt again, all over san as mingi whimpers and groans from beside you.

“shit! i’m cumming, fucking cumming, mingi. where—“ you whine out again, mingi standing up and reaching his orgasm as well.

“me too, fuck— cum on her tits, all over her.”

“cum all over me, please—“ you whine out with a dry throat while both men release their load all over your chest, even on your chin.

“so much cum, just for my bitch, yeah?” mingi groans breathily as you nod for him in response.

san walks away to clean up and put his clothes on in the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone.

“go near that fucker again, i’ll kill the both of you in a heartbeat. am i clear?” he says with a doe eyed smile as if he was a puppy, planting a kiss on your plump lips.

“y-yes.”

————

i—

my god.

[itsss4t4n]

Hi!! Could I get some harry hook x male!reader where reader is the eldest child of Anna and Kristoff please? Also maybe reader looks just like his mum but acts like his dad? Thanks and sorry if it's too specific fjdjdjvjs

Always - Harry Hook x male!reader

a/n: I honestly think that reader personaliy is more like anna han kristoff. somehow i really struggled wih that. i lowkey hate this but i still hope you enjoy his <3

warnings: no use of y/n, making out, small fight/angst, ew emotions, I love some good drama, i hate this tbh, not proofread

When Mal decided to open the barrier forever, it was cerainly an adjusment for everyone.

The Vks that came over to auradon were enrolled into auradon prep and all assigned an auradon student to help them settle in and answer any questions they might have.

You weren't the biggest fan of that arrangementt. Not because you didnt like or trust the vks, you were actually quite close with all of the cour four. You just werent a big people person. So having to share your dorm with someone you dont know and most likely having them at your side 24/7? Not ideal for you.

Especially when you heard who you were going to be paired with. 

But Mal had basically begged you to help. 

"Please. I know you dont like this but he is kind of difficult and i know that you could handle him. I dont know anyone else that could."

So you reluctantly agreed.

Mal was right. Harry Hook was certainly difficult. He was really stuck in ways and refused to change. He refused to follow any rules, he was mean and he hated school. And the worst thing? He was stupidly hot.

Now, you hated school just as much, and you did skip a few lessons here and there but you had respect for your teachers and your peers. And you knew that unfortunately school was important for your future. 

Usually you couldnt care less if other people got on trouble but harry was your responsibility now, so everytime he got into trouble, you were getting dragged into it. And you hated it.

So thats how you ended up in fairy godmothers office for the 7th time that week (it was thursday) sitting next to Harry, who just looked bored while you were about to beat him up.

This has been happeneing for almost 3 months at this point.

"This can not keep going on. Harry If you cannot follow the rules and integrate yourself into Auradon then we might be forced to take stronger action." 

Back in your dorm Harry threw himself onto his bed.

"Well that a tad overdramatic aye?"

You couldnt hold it in anymore. 

"HARRY! THIS IS NOT A GAME! YOU KEEP GETTING IN TROUBLE SIMPLY FOR THE SAKE OF IT AND YOU HURT OTHERS. ARE YOU AWARE OF THE FACT THAT YOU ARE BASICALLY A FEW OFFENSES AWAY FROM EXPULSION?! AND IF THAT HAPPENS YOU BASICALLY HAVE NO CHANCE ANYMORE TO DO ANYTHING! NOT ONLY THAT BUT YOU RUIN MY REPUTATION WITH YOUR BEHAVIOUR AS WELL. JUST THINK ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE THAN YOURSELF FOR ONCE IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE!"

Without looking at him you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

The rest of your day was spend ranting to Mal and Evie about Harry.  Mal hat texted Uma during your rant, telling her to speak with Harry. He would probably listen to her. She was his best friend after all.

You dreaded going to bed that night. Just being in the same room with him.

Uma left your Room just before you arrived, so when you entered Harry was sitting on his bed, a conflicted expression on his face. 

You decided to ignore him, just grabbing a pair of sweatpants and heading to the bathroom to change for bed.

When you exited the beathroom agin harry had also changed into sweatpants. GREY sweatpants.

Fuck. Was he trying to kill you?

His head perked up at the sound of the bathroom door. 

"Hey..."

You looked over at him.

"What Hook?"

He looked a little conflicted still, which confused you. Why the sudden change in mood?

"Look... I'm nae good at this but- fuck..." He sighed exxasperated. "I wanted to apologize."

You head snapped to him again In surprise.

"What?"

"I acted like a total dickhead." He started ranting, trying to get it all outbefore he mentally talked himself out of it. " I didnt care how I might hurt ya. And I don't even have a good reason for that. I was just scared. I was scared of being vulnerable. All I have ever known was the Isle. I am used to hiding myself behind a Tough outside and I was scared to change from that."

Harry quickly wiped his eyes of the tears swimming in them, hoping you wouldnt notice. But you did.

You were shocked by his sudden and surprisingly honest outburst. For a few very long seconds you just stared at each other.

"Harry...." You took a slow step towards him. "I'm sorry. I should've realized how hard this would be. And I know it will be difficult, but i promise you that from now on you wont have to hide anymore. You're safe here." 

Now, standing right before harry, you layed your hand on his shoulder. Harrys eyes met yours, once again swimming with tears but a small smile gacing his lips.

"Thank ye."

You reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen from his eye, your hand resting on harrys cheek, his head leaning into your touch.

You noticed how close you two had gotten. Your eyes flickering from harrys eyes to his lips for a split second.

"Harry?" Your noses brushed against each other ever so slightly.

"Yea?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"I really hope I'm not reading this wrong," You voice matched his. "but can I kiss you?"

Harry was silent, and for a few excruciating second you truly thought you were wrong. Harry was into guys, you knew that much. He didnt hide that part about himself. But did he like you?

"Yes please." 

A small sigh of relief left your mouth as you leaned in, your lips moving against his. Harrys hands moved to your hips, gripping at the exposed skin, thanks to your lack of shirt. In turn your hands wrapped around his neck, your fingers gripping onto his hair.

When you parted for air, you kept your eyes closed, your foreheads leaning against each other. 

For a few seconds all you could hear was you heavy breathing and your own heartbeat, loud in your ears, before Harry leaned in and kissed you again. His hands pulling you flush against his bare chest by your hips.

Once again you pulled back, this time a little more, looking into each others eyes.

"Thank ye, darlin"

"Always."

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Ruin (Annatar/Sauron x Elf!smith!reader)

-> in which you and Annatar share a moment alone in the forge

Warnings: implied mind control, implied smut

The hour is late, and the forge is empty. It was restlessness that brought you here, a need for silence away from your own sheets, where sleep has too long eluded you. As for Annatar, you could not guess his reasons for being here. You doubt it was you he sought out in the dead of night. But it is you he finds nonetheless.

“Be at ease,” he soothes you when you first catch sight of him and rush to your feet, suddenly feeling as though it was unlawful to be sitting on the edge of the forge, lost in thought as you were. His words, however, coupled with the gentle smile you have come to know on his lips, banish the thought. How silly of you, to feel ill at ease in your own home. In the presence of a friend.

Then again, you feel many things in the presence of Annatar, Lord of Gifts. Most do, and with good reason. Each word that leaves his mouth feels imbued with ancient wisdom, even in idle conversation. In fact, he hardly ever makes idle conversation, ever so focused on the work at hand. Yet he commands respect without instilling fear, and somehow seems both leader and companion. To this extent, your fellow smiths feel as you do.

You are not sure they would feel as you do, however, if they were to be standing in your place right now. If they would be so keenly aware that this is the first time you are speaking to him without the work serving as an excuse, and without other eyes to see you. You doubt they would find it so difficult to listen to his words and conjure their own in response, or fear that the silence that sometimes settles between you might betray the stutter in your breath when your gaze lingers on his ethereal face, or hands. You find it difficult... yet there is a sweetness to the strain. Now that you have his presence, you cannot wish it away. You would never.

Stay, you cry out within yourself—not a thought, but a plea which resonates within every inch of your flesh, deafening you to all else. Even to his voice.

It must have blinded you as well—for a few moments, at least—because you find, all of a sudden, that he is close. So very close. And so very tall, compared to you. Looking up into his eyes feels like staring downward into an abyss, stomach plummeting as the pitch-black depths dare you to do the same. But his eyes are not dark, not in color at least. They are blue as the sky, blue as the rivers, blue as some of the precious gems you handle with nimble fingers day after day, creating beauty and striving for perfection, futile though as you know the effort may be. Perfection can only be found in Valinor, wiser Elves than you often say. Yet here it is, looking back at you. Studying you, it seems.

In all your years of life, rarely has a thought rendered you as breathless as this. What does he find, you wonder, when he looks at you—this Elf of uncommon beauty and knowledge, even for one of your kind? The talent of your hands as you work on the Rings? The disquiet in your eyes when he stands close, hand brushing yours as some tool or gem passes between them? The yearning surging within you, growing stronger with each moment the distance between you does not grow greater, but instead, you think—you hope, oh, now you’ve gone on to hope—has been diminishing in increments so small you’ve hardly noticed, not until his breath begins to caress your heated cheek?

“Your talent, I have admired for weeks,” he begins to speak, the rumble of his soft voice joined with a finger beneath your chin stealing your ability to do anything but tremble under his gaze. “Of your disquiet, I am well aware,” he says, and you feel he is pleased. “As for your yearning...”

It should frighten you—it does frighten you, how he has plucked each thought within your mind as easily as strings on a harp. But the iciness of dread is no match for the heat that engulfs your skin as his lips descend upon yours. You grasp at thoughts, at reason, but they slip from your reach as easily as his hand does into your hair. He tugs at the roots so much less gently than his mouth moves against yours, and a small, helpless whimper escapes your throat as he tilts your head further back. The strain on your neck is barely felt, and long forgotten as the kiss you had never dared imagine deepens. He tastes like flames, you think deliriously. Like the blackest hour of the night and the deepest-buried desires of the heart. It is sweet oblivion that plunders your mouth. Unquenchable greed that digs its fingertips into your hips. Inescapable ruin that lifts you up onto the forge and lays you down, hovering over your body like a storm ready to wreak havoc upon the land.

You are not sure, when his lips leave yours and you open your eyes, if all the lights in the forge have been blown out, or if he is simply all that is left in the world. All that is left of the world, once he is done swallowing it whole.

Because he will. Somehow, you know he will. He lets you.

And you let him begin with you.