but try not to notice that

i'm glad i married you (m)

part one: marry me.

pairing: taehyung x reader 
word count: 5.8k 
genre: fluff & smut 

prompt: I know you not taking requests but can u pleassseeee write a continuation for the Tae fluff you’ve posted?? 💕😫 only if you want to and got time, if not just ignore please maybe one where they got married and are on honeymoon and you can add smut since you don’t have any Taehyung smut 😉😉 thank you fighting 🎀 

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anonymous asked:

Jikook in a universe where you have a death timer but one of their timers is a lot shorter than the other one 😭

Ru trying to make me cry?! Oh my god, the way I see it would be:

- Jimin’s timer was normal, he had decades ahead of himself. But for Jungkook–his timer would run out in 3 years

- They had been dating and living together for years. Jimin had woken up earlier than Jungkook one day and had been admiring the younger boy when he noticed the timer on Jungkook’s wrist had changed over night from 70 more years to a mere 3. And his heart stopped

- from then on Jimin had been over protective of Jungkook about everything. Jungkook got tired of it at times and wanted to live his life but he knew Jimin meant well.

- 3 years later and the clock was only ticking. Jimin had insisted that Jungkook stay inside the house for the next couple of days but Jungkook was persistent that he wasnt going to hide forever

- Jimin would be distraught and let him live his last moments how he wanted

- it happened the next day. they decided to fuck everything and go out to a nice lunch and just enjoy themselves.

- Jungkook crossed the street too early, a car barreling towards him…

-…and hitting the street pole next to him instead of Jungkook if it weren’t for Jimin ripping him off the street last second.

- they look at the timer again-

- 68 more years.

Imagine Pickett trying to set you up with Newt.
At first he would be quite a bit jealous when he first noticed the way Newt would look at you whenever you were in the same room.
After you constantly adoring him though, he would come to the conclusion that maybe you wouldn’t be too bad of an addition to his life.
He would start jumping out of Newt’s pocket and into yours, forcing Newt to come after him.
Whenever Newt and you would talk and one of you was about to leave, Pickett would suddenly get “very sick” and of course he would absolutely need both of you to take care of him.

anonymous asked:

Sometimes I feel like I'm using the label "ace" as a shield to avoid forming connections with people. But I feel like I really am ace? And I want to be in a relationship. But when they express sexual interest I bolt and feel repulsed. But at the same time I've been okay with having sex with my partners in previous contexts (like maybe that's an issue of being repulsed by feeling objectified?) I feel confused and I can't seem to justify my identity one way or another.

If you think you are ace and sex repulsed I’d suggest not trying to justify it to yourself. I know a lot of sex repulsed people say this behavior doesn’t make sense, why am I doing it? And honestly, it could take a realllly long time to figure out the why. I noticed why I did stuff… 4-5 years after the event that caused the behavior.

If you think therefore you are. You don’t need to prove it to yourself. You don’t need to be like ODD BEHAVIOR MEANS U FAKE. Instead make a mental note, and validate yourself. That likely will give you the peace you need to figure it out.

Every Me And Every You - Ten

It was a good few weeks before you and Reid were able to make plans to play again. One of those weeks had been spent on a case in Seattle, and when your down time had come around, Spencer had already had plans to visit his Mom for the weekend.

You’d been more disappointed that you thought you would have been and as you’d dropped Spencer off at his apartment on the way home that nignt, he’d noticed.

“Hey, next two days we get off are ours okay.”


“And use the weekend. I’m betting you’ve not played with any of the things I’ve bought you have you?”

You hadn’t and you told him so.

“Okay so tomorrow, when you’re doing your housework, try doing it with the eggs in. You’ll need to lube them up to get them in, unless of course you have a play before hand. And tomorrow night, I’ll be back at my hotel by 8pm, it’ll be 11pm here. You can always call me and I can talk you through doing some things.”


“Yes…. Things.”

“Crap…. When you told me you’d be out of town, I made plans to go out with Penny and Emily.”

He licked his lips, thinking.

“Okay. Well, we could still play a game of sorts if you like?”

“We can? I’m not fucking going out wearing those love eggs inside of me Spencer.”

“Not with those two you’re not. I meant more of a power game. I tell you what to wear, what to eat and what to drink.”


“I won’t be able to keep checking my phone all night though, they’ll get suspicious.”

“That’s fine, I’ll only require updates every thirty minutes. We can set a rule. If you don’t text every thirty minutes, that’s one strike of punishment against you for next time.”

“Spanking again?”

“Not necessarily. I might add them up and turn them into a larger punishment. Like five strikes equals an hour of you sitting naked with your legs spread, not be allowed to move or speak. Or five strikes would equal one flog. Or maybe, ten strikes would equal half an hour of you riding my mouth.”

You bite your lip feeling that familiar throbbing between your legs.

“How… How is that punishment for me?”

It certainly didn’t sound like it would be.

“Punishment doesn’t always equal something painful Y/N. Just something that not everyone likes to do. You’d be surprised at how many girls would balk at the term ‘sit on my face’. But…. Have you ever had so many orgasms that it’s become painful? Because it definitely can. I’m not sure I could make that happen in thirty minutes but I’ll give it my best shot.”

You guessed he was right. You’d always associated punishment with pain when you were thinking about the BDSM scene. But thinking back to when you were a kid and did some thing wrong punishment then didn’t always equal a smack. In fact it rarely did. More often than not, it was a removal of your dessert or being told to go to bed at an earlier time or having your favourite toys taken away from you. As you got older it meant having your cell confiscated or being grounded.

“So erm, say if I miss the thirty minute deadline a lot, would that mean that I wouldn’t be allowed to go out with Pen and Emily again for a while?” you asked trying to be coy.

“You’re catching on quickly Y/N. That’s exactly what might happen. I need to go, there’s an earlier flight I can get on this evening if I hurry, and you’re proving to be a distraction. I’ll text you tomorrow okay.”


And he had, at around 11am when you’d got back from grocery shopping you had a message from him.

“Got those eggs in yet Agent Y/L/N?”

You hadn’t, but only because you’d been out of the house.

“Not yet, I’ve been running errands. And please don’t call me Agent when you’re talking about stuff like that. It’s been easy working with you so far, and you’re the one who said you didn’t like blurring the lines.”

Not only would it blur the lines, but if he started calling you Agent, you’d end up calling him Dr Reid and for some reason you’d already found that hot before this little…. whatever this was had started.

“Apologies, point taken. Are you home now then? If so, put them in.”

“How will you know if I do or don’t?”

“That can be applied to the whole of today. How will I know if you wear what I tell you, or eat and drink what I say later. Trust. I trust you to behave.“

Behave… Because if you didn’t….

You shivered.

You took your phone into your bedroom and opened the draw you’d piled all of the items he’d bought you into, searching for the love eggs and the lubricant he’d slipped into the basket.

Pulling your jeans and underwear off you sat on your bed and assessed them, reading the instructions.

Okay. Wash them first. Back up off the bed and into your bathroom, washing the silicone balls with warm soapy water and carefully drying them. Back to your bed.

The instructions suggested that inexperienced woman lie down to insert them, and to be careful with the amount of lube you used. After all, the easier they go in, the easier they’ll come out.


Although Spencer had referred to them as love eggs, they were actually more spherical in shape, reminding you of the old stress balls which people would hold in the palms of their hands and rotate. Except these were connected by a pull cord and one was heavier than the other

The instructions advised to insert the none weighted ball first, followed by the heavier one.

You pumped a small amount of lubricant into your palms and rubbed them together, before rubbing the eggs between your hands. See how you go with this much, you can always add more.

Laying back, you spread your legs and pushed gently.

The feeling was weird, almost like something you shouldn’t be doing alone, but you managed to push them in without too much discomfort, the cord hanging loose.

The instructions said to practice your kegal exercises laying down first to get used to the sensation.

Alright. You did, squeezing the muscles you’d use if you needed to stop peeing mid flow.


The squeezing pushed the balls against your sweet spot, sending a pleasant sensation through your core.

People went out wearing these?

Okay… Let’s try to walk around.

You sat up carefully and pulled your underwear and jeans back on. They didn’t slip out when you stood up but you felt definite movement and as you started to walk you were sure you could hear them knocking against each other.

Paranoia perhaps?

“They’re in. It feels weird.” You texted Reid.

“Good girl. Have fun and let me know when you’re getting ready for later.”

You got on with your afternoon, tidying the house and putting away your laundry.

When you were sitting down, you could barely feel them. It was no more noticeable than when you wore tampons when you actually had the occasional period.

When you were walking around and vacuuming for example, there were a few instances where you’d grabbed the edge of a table or chair as they knocked into each other or against a certain sensitive area inside of you. If you felt them slipping, you squeezed on and off a few times and that seem to push them higher, but each time you squeezed, there was that sensation again, juddering against your g spot.

How people wore these all day long and didn’t end up a quivering mess you didn’t know.

When it got to four o clock, you lay back down on your bed and texted Reid to say you were taking them out as you needed a bath and to start getting ready. You were meeting Garcia at an Italian restaurant at seven, and Emily was picking you up on the way.

“Okay. Do something for me? Take a picture of them and send it to me before you wash them.”

Huh? Why?

It became clear though as you pulled them out and then lay them on your bed. The silicone coating was glistening, from your own personal lubricant.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

You took a picture and sent it.

Taking them into the bathroom with you, you dropped them into the sink and filled it, before running a hot bath and climbing in.

Spencer’s reply came twenty minutes later as you were washing your hair.

“I’m very jealous of those eggs, Y/N.”

Fucking hell, man. You almost dropped the phone in the tub.

Pushing it far out of dangers way you combined on with your bathing regime, getting out and wrapping yourself in a towel, smelling of the coconuts body wash you’d used.

Going into your bed room, you surveyed your closet before remembering that Spencer was dictating your outfit to to tonight.

“So what am I wearing then?” You messaged him again.

“If this is your attempt at starting kinky phone sex, I believe it’s meant to start with me asking you to describe what you’re wearing, with the answer hopefully being nothing.”

“No you douche, tonight. What am I wearing tonight?”


“Are we playing?”

“If there’s strikes to be earnt this evening then I’d say yes. But to make things clear, we’ll start when you get to the restaurant okay.”

“Good, so I can call you a douche up until then.”

“I suppose.”

“Lol. Now what am I wearing tonight?”

The reply came a few minutes later.

“Do you still have the jade coloured sundress you were to Rossi’s Fourth of July party two years ago?”

“I do.”

“That, with that black cardigan with the green buttons you wear to work sometimes. Sheer black panty hose and your black heels with the silver buckle. The matching green bra and panty set we bought. Wear your hair half up, half down with simple make up, no lip stick only clear gloss. Pictures please.”

“I thought I was only supposed to wear them with you?”

“You wear them when I tell you to and I’m telling you to. It’s either them, or no underwear. And that dress is pretty thin material.”

“I’ll wear them. I’ll send a picture when I’m done.”

You got ready, blow drying and straightening your hair and following his instructions. When you were done you surveyed yourself in the mirror. He had pretty good taste, you looked nice.

You took a few photos, one of you fully clothed, and another two showing the underwear you were wearing, your dress lifted up and the v of the top half pulled down to prove you’d followed his instructions to the t. You pressed send, just as your buzzer signalling that Prentiss was outside sounded.

Collecting your purse you went down to meet Emily, climbing into the cab besides her.


“Hey! You look nice,” she greeted you.

“Thanks, so do you.” You felt your phone buzz, tilting the screen slightly when you saw it was Spencer.

“Very nice. Beautiful and sexy in fact. Just remember one thing. Whilst we’re embarking on this little road to discovery, you are mine. You’ll attract attention dressed as you are, because you look stunning. But until you call this off, I’m the only one who will be allowed near your body, I’m the only one who you can think about fucking, the only one who is allowed to make you come other than yourself. You are mine. Understood?”

Loud and clear.



“Good. Now let me know when you’re at the restaurant. I’ll expect a text every thirty minutes, even if it’s just a message to say ‘checking in’. That will do. Miss a check in and that’s a strike. Understood?”

“Understood.” You locked you phone and slipped it back into your bag.

“Everything okay? You look a bit flushed.” Emily commented.

“Fine! All good. Just a little warm.” You made a show of winding down the window slightly.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

Ok I think my favorite thing about Darkiplier is that the more you notice about him, the more his character evolves. Look at the way he clenches his fists in A Date With Markiplier. He can barely hold himself together. His ‘shell’ is cracking and breaking and he’s clenching his fists, gritting his teeth, trying his hardest to remain calm and collected. Eventually, right before he and Mark fight, he figures out how to chill- probably because he thinks he’s winning. It’s such a minute detail and I might be making a huge deal about it but it says a lot about our favorite edgy boy. There’s probably other stuff I haven’t noticed but I just needed to write this down.

icemalfoy  asked:

Oh yey a prompt post! How about some post war/battle of hogwarts Lucissa? Or any Lucissa, authors choice. I love me some Malfoys lol.

pairing: lucius malfoy x narcissa black

setting: modern, non-magical, college au

Lucius Malfoy spills an entire Gatorade cooler full of jungle juice on himself the first time he sees Narcissa Black.

She doesn’t even notice.

“Okay,” he announces the next morning, spearing this year’s crop of gross, mouth-breathing legacy pledges with a long-suffering glare. “My future wife. I’ve met her. Seen her. Whatever. She’s perfection. You fuckers are gonna help me woo the shit out of her. Questions?”

Rabastan Lestrange is the only one brave enough to raise his hand. “I have class in an hour. Can we, like, do this later?”

Lucius sneers, and rolls his eyes, and flaps his hand in disgust. “True love waits for no one.” He pauses. Reconsiders. “Go. Come back with a whiteboard. And binoculars. I have a plan.”

"Narcissa Black says a bunch of our pledges are stalking her,” Rodolphus says a few days later. He’s yawning into his mid-afternoon pint of Guinness. He sounds alarmingly unconcerned. “She wants us to deal with it.”

Lucius sniffs, incredibly nonchalant. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Rodolphus groans, thumbing through the texts on his phone. “She—I dunno, man, I guess they’re, like, really out of control, she seemed pretty pissed.”

Lucius clears his throat before tightly crossing his fingers behind his back. “We should probably—you know. Apologize. Right?”

Rodolphus puffs out his cheeks, drains his beer, and burps into his fist. “Yeah, sure, whatever—you need her number? I’m gonna go, like.” He sighs, gesturing vaguely towards the ceiling. “Make the pledges clean Mulcy’s weight rack with their toothbrushes or something, I dunno.”

Narcissa Black glides down the stairs of her sorority with all the grace of a ballet-dancing swan. She’s dressed for tennis. There are diamonds on the barrettes in her hair.

“Rabastan Lestrange is awfully chatty, you know,” she tells Lucius, smiling sweetly. Too sweetly. He despairs. “Especially when he’s late for class.”

anonymous asked:

could you do a scenario with bakugou comforting his s/o because they hate their birthday n they always get super depressed when it comes around??

HI! Sorry, I decided to go with headcanons because I feel like I could cover a lot more and I wanted to throw in some special birthday headcanons for you as well! ♡

Bakugou Katsuki

  • Bakugou wears a frown on his face when he notices that you’ve been acting depressed recently, and since he’s rather clueless as to what could cause your saddened state since everything seems to be normal and there’s no one bullying or messing with you, he confronts you about it when you both are alone. He comes right out and asks what’s been bothering you because he can tell you’re not being yourself these last few days, and it’s useless if you try to cover it up and put on a happy facade because he knows you well enough to see straight through that.
  • When you reluctantly tell him that you have the birthday blues, he becomes confused because aren’t birthdays supposed to make someone feel eager or happy when it comes around with it being a “special day”? He doesn’t push the issue and leaves it at that because he doesn’t want to make you feel even worse about it than you already do so he says something like “Well, shit. I had no idea you feel that way.” Then he grabs a hold of your hand and takes you on an impromptu date to make you feel better because he wasn’t about to let you continue feeling gloomy and sad. Bakugou hates seeing you like that and he’ll do whatever he can to cheer you up.
  • When your birthday comes around, Bakugou plans something simple and special for you and invites you over to his house. He kicks his parents out of the house for the entire evening and tells them to go treat themselves to something nice and relaxing because he doesn’t want them interfering with his plans. He doesn’t tell them the reason why either but his parents can guess that you would be coming over and assumes that there’s a “special occasion” that’s going to be taking place (the night where Bakugou finally becomes a “man”). Bakugou blushes profusely and scolds his mom to stop teasing because it’s nothing like that and he just wanted to do something special for your birthday.
  • Bakugou cooks you a nice birthday dinner that he made careful preparations for to ensure that it will turn out amazing, and he also practiced preparing the meal several days in advance because he wanted everything to be perfect for you. You both would enjoy your meal while watching a movie together and once the credits begin to roll he tells you that he’ll be right back because he’s going to surprise you with a cake that he baked himself. He comes out moments later and says “Happy birthday, babe” and presses a kiss to your lips and tells you to make a wish. And although you’ve always hated your birthday, Bakugou managed to make this year at least a little better.
[headcanon sirens]
  • Whenever a spell fizzles, it blows up in the users face, causing them to be covered in smoke.
  • The reason pets can cast spells is from imitation, they noticed other wizards using said magic and they try their best to copy. Which is why pet spells cannot critical and why they sometimes do not use may casts.
  • Some wizards are more magic reliant than others. Some may only pick up/grab objects with their powers while some just simply physically touch said items.
  • Every class can summon a small burst of their magic through their fingertips. Example: A fire wizard shooting a fireball from their fingers, an ice wizard shooting a icy beam with their hands etc.
  • Spell casters can charge their spells, which means it will take some time to release the magic, but it will become much more powerful once you’re finish charging.

so i vastly underestimated the time and work that goes into making transcripts and i only got through the first 6 minutes of mac bangs dennis’ mom last night (which means it may or may not actually get posted today) BUT some of the highlights from those 6 minutes include:

  • charlie: “rob holy shit how do you talk so fast and not mess up your words?” rob: “i was chewing a LOT of nicotine gum at the time”
  • danny spends the entire beginning of the commentary eating chips, saying “oh man” about literally everything, and calling barbara reynolds and dee hot
  • charlie trying DESPERATELY to keep them on topic while danny and rob talk about how hot kaitlin is
  • rob doing his best charlie impression (it’s not very good) and imitating charlie’s lines from the show
  • glenn notices a single minor mistake in the episode and for the next minute or so keeps muttering the word “terrible.” over and over

wrestlingnoob  asked:

I don't know who I sent this song but they never answered me... so: I like to ball by Danko Jones. I think it fits to this week😉

I hadn’t ever heard this one before but YES it’s PERFECT for this week! OMG!

Originally posted by baellinswithstyles

My skin tingled as the warmth from his hands brushed my inner thigh below the dinner table. I bit my lip trying to keep listening to my brother ramble on about his current rank in the army and the drama in his barracks.

My dad was completely enthralled in his mashed potatoes and gravey. Mom was cutting through her roast asking questions as my brother talked. I knew they weren’t going to notice my boyfriend, AJ, trying to creep his hand up my skirt. But that didn’t make me any less nervous.

His hand traveled a little farther north and I jumped. 

“Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” My mother asked noticing me lifting out of my seat.

“I- I’m fine. I just got a sudden chill and it scared me.” I tried to lie. I could hear AJ let out a low chuckle next to me.

“It’s hot as hell in here.” My father growled in between bites of his roast and potatoes.

“Do you need my jacket, Darlin’?” AJ smirked at me.

I shot him a glare. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

My brother continued on his conversation with my parents and AJ leaned over to me. “You don’t want to play, Darlin’?” He asked in a hushed tone.

“Not in front of my parents, please AJ?” I begged him.

AJ’s hand squeezed my thigh again and his index finger slipped under panties and slid a long my wet slick. I whimpered quietly in response.

“Let Daddy have what he wants, Darlin’.” He leaned over and said to me. “Don’t make a noise, don’t come until I say, and Daddy will give you a treat when we get home.”

There is no one better than you

Pairing: Jamilton

Word Count: 787

Warnings: Nothing

A/N: This is how I see relationship between Jefferson and Hamilton. Thanks  @i-revise-likeim-runningoutoftime for being so cool and proofreading my writing. 

Thomas walks into a bar. Again. He comes here every weekend, all the bartenders know him, and he knows all the regular customers. But he doesn’t pay any attention to them, he looks as if he is trying to find someone. No one knows why Thomas comes here once or twice a month, maybe he wants to meet someone new or maybe he is waiting for a certain someone to show up.

Keep reading

I think many are misunderstanding the latest basketball clip… In my opinion it’s not Yousef trying to tease Sana, it’s Yousef trying to break Sana’s stubborn mindset; it’s him saying that he won’t go anywhere even tho Sana tries to push him away. (That whole carrot peeling thing)

So far Yousef and Elias are the only people who keep pushing to communicate with Sana and to find out what’s bugging her. The others have noticed that something is wrong, but they respect Sana’s privacy and don’t push her to talk. This is one way to deal a situation like this, but I think what Sana needs is someone like Yousef that will “force” themselves into Sana’s bubble. Personality wise I relate to Sana a lot, I’m too stubborn to admit that I need help or that something isn’t right, and what I sometimes need is someone coming into my bubble, even though it might seem rude (‘seem’ is a key word, i don’t think Yousef would ever be rude to Sana) and no matter how much I’d push them away.

(Still don’t know how the Noora thing goes to this tho)

About Feedback


Ever since joining AO3 and Tumblr, I’ve noticed some very interesting things regarding kudos, comments, likes, reblogs, reviews, and what have you. Collectively, let’s call it feedback

The thing I’ve noticed is that there are great writers on here and on AO3 who are regularly screaming into the void, absolutely trying their hardest to will readers to give them feedback (read validation). Feedback is truly the best way to connect with both readers and writers, and feedback can be in the form of constructive critiques, aimless rambling about things one liked, or even flailing over the work when it really strikes one’s fancy. 

So, you want feedback, eh? Below are three things you can do in order of “least likely” to “most likely” in terms of yielding results.

1.    Put your stuff out there and wait. Patiently.

The first and laziest way is to simply post your work and not say a damn thing to anyone. But seriously, don’t hold your breath for feedback, because you may be waiting a long ass time (I added that “patiently” bit for a reason). Does this strategy always work? Rarely. It’s essentially the equivalent of handing your work to your cat, to which he or she looks at you with a scornful expression that says, “Ugh, this isn’t wet food, human.” 

The thing I’ve discovered in this knit of writer-readers is that they love to lurk and scope out the quality of other people’s work, whether for self-validation that their work doesn’t suck in comparison to other work, or to figure out just how badly they do suck (spoiler alert, you don’t). There are a few people who will provide some sort of feedback without prompting–and I’ve also noticed that these people are usually not writer-readers, just readers (sometimes anonymous) who greatly enjoy fanfic and are happy to provide feedback. 

However, there’s a curious phenomenon that goes along with writer-readers when it comes to lurking. They often consume other people’s work, but if they are intimidated, they won’t leave feedback. If they think the work isn’t on their level, they won’t leave feedback. It often stems from the writer-reader being on a spectrum that ranges from crippling insecurity to grandiose self-absorbedness (I know that’s not really a word). But listen, all writers are both painfully insecure and secretly think their stuff is the shit. That’s just the way it is. So, posting your work and crossing your fingers will not always guarantee your response expectations. 

2.    Simply ask for feedback.

This sounds super easy (because it is) and also sort of like begging (it’s not). You can literally say directly to someone, “Hey, here’s my work. I would greatly appreciate feedback.” OR, preface or endnote your work with, “Feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged! Thank you!” 

Does this always work? Not always, but it will get you more feedback than dropping your work out there and expecting it to get tons of response. Some writers think that if one of their works exploded across their fandom and they had a TON of feedback on it that they’re guaranteed (and sometimes too self-indulgently expecting a glorious rainfall of praise) to receive feedback on brand new stuff. It doesn’t always work like that for a myriad of reasons. 

(And if you receive comments after begging for a reblog or asking for validation, FUCKING RESPOND TO THEM. It’s just the polite thing to do. Seriously. If you ask for someone to use their time to read your work and leave feedback, RESPOND TO THEM. No one is “too good” to just not be polite. *jumps back down from my soapbox*) 

But the most important thing about this is to, for lack of a better phrase, “read the room.” If you ask someone to read a fanfic that’s not in their area of interest, you’re less likely to receive feedback from them. Check out what they like by scoping out the focus of their own fanfics, what they bookmark or reblog, and the things of which they tend to post. The chances of them actually reading your work and leaving feedback–or even better, giving it a recommendation–is always higher if you play to your intended audience.

Which leads me to the most difficult action, but the one most guaranteed to give you results:


The BEST way to receive feedback is to give feedback. 

The cool thing about being a writer-reader is that you can both give and receive feedback. If you admire the crap out of a writer or their work and you would love a response to yours in return, leave feedback. Hell, you can even ask them to read yours, too. It becomes sort of a symbiotic experience with your peers: read something you like, provide feedback, ask them to check out your work, receive feedback. Easy peasy, squeeze the lemon. Does this always work? Nope. But it’s a strategy that’s a hell of a lot better than the others.

Some writers may not even know your work exists–but as soon as you give them feedback, it puts you on their map. I always check out someone who takes time out of their day to leave me a lovely comment or do me a sweet reblog. And I’ll almost always read their work and give them feedback, too. (Sometimes I will creep for longer than I should before giving feedback-sorry, I’m trying to be better.) The only time I don’t is when the subject of their fanfics is something I know nothing about or it simply doesn’t pique my interest–like a fandom that I’m not a part of, a pairing that I don’t care for, etc.

So, unfortunately the flip side of that is when you DO leave feedback and the writer doesn’t give feedback in return. That’s okay. It really does suck when a writer is one-sided about receiving feedback and doesn’t provide feedback after you’ve given it to them–but it DOES NOT mean that your writing or subject sucks. Just keep your chin up, keep writing, and leave feedback on other works that are similar to your own and ask that they give you feedback. 

Is this the be-all, end-all way to get your works read? Nope. But it’s a start for those who are struggling and desperately yearning to engage with their reader-base. 

TL;DR: Give feedback if you want feedback in return. 

i lowkey…..don’t get why everyone is so convinced that Noora and Yousef are dating? i’m like 95% sure they aren’t and the reason they were together in todays clip was bc they have both noticed that Sana isn’t being herself, and have both tried reaching out to her without any luck. They’re trying to figure out what’s wrong with Sana. 

I’m just, Noora and Yousef dating is just the most obvious most non-skam thing ever.

French Perfume Part 2

Crowley X Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Female reader receives a package from an admirer.

Warnings: language

Catch up: Part 1

Team Free Will POV

“What the hell is she thinking?” Dean yelled. No one else in the whole bar had noticed that two people had just poofed off the dance floor.
Sam pulled out his phone and read (Y/N)’s text message. “I don’t like it either but it looks like she’s made up her mind.”
Dean is frantically trying to call (Y/N) but the phone is going to only to voicemail.
“Guys, I have to tell you something. We should leave.” Cas ordered.

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