see how far you can take it

Massages

4.2k of smut, I’m not even sorry

‘OUCH! Stop, st- STOP IT PANSY! Argh, fuck, I think I broke a rib.’ Draco sat down on his bed, a painful expression on his face which was paler than usual.

‘You’re an ungrateful bastard’ Pansy flopped beside him, pouting ‘the whole Slytherin house knows I’m the best on giving massage’

‘Well, I better look for someone from other houses then’ Draco made another pained expression as he got up. ‘I can’t, I can’t walk. Argh, fuck!’ He laid down slowly. Pansy only stared at him from the door, the look on her a face a mixture of pity and remorse.

‘I’ll get someone. Even though you were a little bitch just now.’ She glared at him before leaving.

It’d started three days before then. He was getting ready on Wednesday morning to practice quidditch. Everything was fine when he bent down to tie his shoelaces, but the second he straightened his back an acute pain hit him on his hips. It’d gotten worse the past two days to the point now he couldn’t even sit properly without feeling it.

He laid there, thinking maybe he would have to look for Madam Pomfrey after all. But fuck, those potions always messed up with his stomach, he’d do anything to avoid taking them even if it meant asking for someone he didn’t know to give him a massage. Pansy had told him she knew what she was doing but at the end it’d only worsened it.

***

‘It’s for a friend, you see. He’s in a lot of pain at the moment and I was hoping you knew someone good on giving massages’ Pansy flopped down on a chair at the eighth year common room.

‘Well,’ Hermione started, closing her arithmancy book. 'I do, but… who exactly is this friend of yours?’ She gave Pansy a look that could be translated as 'Are-we-talking-about-who-i-think-we-are-talking-about?’

'Draco’ Pansy sighed, predicting the other’s answer. 'But… I swear he’ll behave. And you owe me this one, right? After I brought you those French hair products’ Pansy smirked.

'You really are a Slytherin’ Hermione sighed 'but they were actually amazing. I’ll help you with this one but I can’t guarantee it’ll go well.’

Pansy gave her a quick hug, grinning. 'Who is it then?’

'Harry’ Hermione murmured to herself.

Pansy gasped and then laughed until tears were streaming down her face.

'Holy. Shit. Are you sure he’ll want to do it?’

Hermione gave her a little smile.

'He owes he a favor’

Pansy’s giggling was catching the attention of everyone around them.

'Who’s the Slytherin one now?’

***

'Tell me how amazing I am’

The girl bursted inside his dorm an hour after she’d left to find Draco in the same position.

'You found someone?’ He got up, regretting the decision immediately. 'Ah, shit! Are they outside? Please tell me they’re outside’

'They’ll be here in ten’ Pany sat by his side and poked his cheek 'go on, tell me how amazing I am’

'You’re amazing’ he grunted. When he looked at his friend, though, she wasn’t paying attention, busy with a little pink bag Draco hadn’t noticed she’d brought before. 'What-’

'Oils. For the massage’ she smirked and Draco felt blood going to his cheeks.

'There’s no need for that’

'They have properties. They could help’ she started to take the little flasks with different colors out of the bag and pile them on Draco’s bed.

A light knock on the door told them Pansy’s friends had arrived.

'C'mon in!’

'I just don’t understand why… No. No fucking way.’

'Harry, please, Pansy said-’

'What the actual fuck, Pansy!’ Draco started talking at the same time Hermione tried to stop Harry from leaving the room. 'This is… ah, shit shit- ARGH!’ Draco’s attempt to get up brought back the striking pain on his lower back and he felt his knees failing. The next second he was tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. Tears came uninvited to his eyes and he bit his lips as hard as he could to stop from screaming.

Draco didn’t look up to see who it was that was trying to help him get up. A firm hand went on the underside of his thigh as the other grabbed his shoulder firmly, pushing him to his feet just long enough for him to get to his bed. When he collapsed on his bed, flushed cheeks and tears still streaming down his face, everything he could think about was that maybe his time had come. Die would be better than suffer so much humiliation in front of Saint Potter, who was panting by his side.

Harry stared down at the boy in front of him, Malfoy’s face twisted in an ugly expression. It was like he was trying to sneer at Harry but the pain was too much even for that. Harry sighed and turned to see he was left alone in the room with an incapacitated Malfoy. Well, shit, that was just great. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone? Peace, it was all he was asking for after everything. But, oh no, he had to have asked Hermione for help with his potions homework the week before, and now he owed her this. Harry wouldn’t have denied giving a massage to any of his friends if they’d asked him. He’d helped Hermione, Ginny and even Luna in the past. But Malfoy? Give Malfoy a massage, after everything, almost sounded funny.

Except it wasn’t because Harry had a hero complex and he knew Malfoy wouldn’t ask for such a thing if he wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t even Malfoy who came looking for Hermione, it was Pansy, which meant he probably was in a lot of pain. He couldn’t walk, from what Harry could see.

Small flasks caught his attention, all of them pilled up beside Malfoy.

'What’s this?’ He grabbed one and put it against the light. The liquid inside was thicker than water.

'Oils. Pansy brought them. She said they could help. Not like you need to know this anyway since you won’t use them.’ Malfoy spoke through gritted teeth, facing the wall opposite to where Harry stood. So he was expecting him to leave, that cocky bastard.

'Take off your shirt then’ Harry levitated all the tiny flasks to the ground and picked up one randomly. When he opened it the smell of cinnamon filled the room. Malfoy stared at him like he’d gone insane.

'What do you think you’re doing?’ he asked slowly.

'Well, maybe a massage since that’s what Hermione asked me to do and I can’t have a fucking moment of peace in this castle. And since you seem to be unable to even walk I advise you shut the fuck up and take off your shirt so I can see what’s wrong and finish in time for dinner’ Harry looked up to find Malfoy gaping at him.

'Do you even-’

'Yes, I do know how to do it, you prick. And I’m using this one, so take off your shirt’ Harry signaled to the open flask in his hands as he sat down on the far end of the bed.

He didn’t quite know how the oil would help since he’d never used them when he gave massages before. He liked the smell of it, that was all.

Malfoy struggled to sit down. He undid his tie, opened every button and started to take it off, really slowly trying not to move too much, wincing everytime he did. He folded his shirt and put it on the chair beside the bed. Harry couldn’t help staring at the huge scars on his chest he knew he was responsible for. Guilt settled on his stomach as he tore his gaze away.

'Lay down on your stomach’ Harry got up and sat beside Malfoy’s body as close as he could without brushing their thighs. It was ridiculous, he knew, since he would be touching him quite soon. Malfoy did as he was told and stilled, realising what that meant.

And what it meant was that, like that, he was completely vulnerable. He turned his face to Potter’s side and searched the other boy’s face for any sign of danger but all he could see was a frown as Harry dripped the oil in his fingers. Draco felt his cheeks heat up for some reason he didn’t understand.

'I’m going to start’ Potter’s voice was low when he spoke. Before Draco could say anything Potter’s hands were on his shoulders, placed at the same distance from the centre of his back. They were warmer than Draco’s skin, soft and sticky with oil. His breath got stuck on his throat  when Potter squeezed and, even though his lower back still hurt, Draco felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He exaled, relaxing into the matress.

Harry maintained the rhythm for a while, squeazing and releasing Malfoy’s shoulders, his thumbs pressing small circles on the other’s neck as he did. Harry, then, started to let his hands go lower, maintaining the pressing of his thumbs as he did until he reached the high of Malfoy’s kidneys. He stopped there to smear his hands with more oil.

'Where did the pain start?’ Harry found his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

'Hm… my hips’ Malfoy sounded sleepy when he spoke. He was so relaxed Harry had to hold back a giggle. He must really be great at giving massage if it meant even Malfoy was enjoying it.

He stopped shortly.

'Your hips?’ Shit, he wasn’t expecting that. 'Er… okay. I’ll- I’ll need you to lower you trousers a bit.  

'What?’ Draco opened his eyes, snapping out of his daze. What did Potter just say?

'So I can reach your hips. I can’t do much with them in the way’ he said slowly, almost like he expected Draco to start yelling at him.

'So you want me to take off my pants?’ Draco couldn’s believe what the fuck was going on.

'No! Just- Just open it, okay? I can do the rest…’ Draco stopped for a second. He reached for his buttons, opened them and laid down again. He turned his face the other way since he was pretty sure he was blushing. Shit, Potter better know what he was doing.

Harry exhaled gradually. He most definitely didn’t know what he was doing. Well, he did, but he shouldn         ’t be doing this. He should’ve stopped, told Malfoy to go look for Pomfrey and got out of there.

Instead he placed his hands on Malfoy’s lower back again. He rubbed his thumbs in circles there, with less pressure this time, and started to press lower as he did. He reached his trousers but since the buttons were open it hang loose on Malfoy’s hips. Harry let his thumbs go under the waist and Malfoy froze.

Harry exhaled again. 'This will probably hurt but if it doesn’t work I’ll know what I have to do, okay?’ He pulled his trousers lower until he could see the other’s boxers. They were black, just like his trousers. Harry could see the fine blond hair that covered his lower back was up.

'Just don’t break my bones’ His tone was sarcastic.

Harry had his weigh on one knee which was pressed against the matress, both hands on Malfoy’s hips.

'Inhale’ Harry instructed. 'Hold’ Malfoy did as he was told.

'Exhale’ he pushed all his weight on his hands as quickly as he could. Malfoy screamed and Harry cursed. They were panting, Malfoy still too shocked to say anything.

'It won’t work, not like this’ Harry got off the bed to take off his shoes. When he looked back Malfoy was staring at him with a strange expression on his face, fear mixed with something else. Was it anticipation?

'This will work’ Harry got on the bed again and before malfoy could say anything he passed one of his legs over the blond’s body, straddling him. Harry sat on Malfoys thighs, trapping him so he couldn’t turn around.

'WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?’ Malfoy tried to free himself but Harry pinned both Draco’s hands above his head in a strong grip.

'I’m telling you this will work! Stop fidgeting and shut up!’

But focusing on Potter’s words was hard since all he could sense was the warmth and pressure on his thighs, so close to his ass. He’d never felt anything like that before, something disturbingly intimate and his whole body was reacting as if it was. He closed his eyes, cursing inside his head as blood rushed into his cock. Fuck fuck fuck, this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be…

'Inhale’ Potter’s words resonated closer to his ear than before. He shivered, inhaling as deep as he could. 'You need to relax’ Potter’s voice came out hoarse, his thumbs still tracing circles on his hips. Draco shuddered but felt his shoulders lose tension again.

'Inhale’, Harry repetead. 'Hold’ And Draco did.

Potter shifted on his thighs and Draco almost forgot what he was supposed to do.

'Exhale’ he did it again, placing all his weight in his hands, his thighs pressing hard against Malfoy’s as he did. A loud crack made Harry smile and Draco scream.

And then Malfoy let out a loud moan and Harry lost his train of thought.

Suddenly all the blood in his brain was going down, making his pants too tight. His ears felt like they were full of water when he heard Malfoy hum against the pillow.

'It worked’ Draco breathed, lifting his hips a bit to check if the pain was still there. The motion caused his ass to rub against something hard.

Draco gasped.

Harry moaned low.

Draco’s hips rose up again, higher, rubbing harder against what he knew was Potter and fuck, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. And then Potter pressed down, literally pressed against Draco’s ass so he could feel it, the whole length even through the fabric. Potter was hard, really hard and Draco felt his own cock twitching at that.

Draco moaned, the sound ringing in Harry’s ears. He should go, he knew he should, but Malfoy was panting, and lifting that roundy ass for him, to rub against him, and Harry saw his face when he turned his head to the side. His cheeks were flushed and lips parted.

Harry pressed again, leaning forward until his mouth was just above Malfoy’s left ear.

'Do you want me to go?’ He needed to be sure, to be certain he wasn’t imagining all that.

Malfoy gasped, his eyes tightly shut. 'No’ He lifted his arm, grabbing Harry’s thigh and craving his nails on it. Harry bit his earlobe, went for his jaw and started sucking there.

Draco’s cock was throbbing beneath him, so hard he was sure he might faint any second.

The next minute the pressure against his ass was gone making a small cry escape his lips. Fuck fuck, Potter must have come to his senses before he did…

His pants were suddenly yanked down to his knees, his boxers with them. The sudden movement ccreating friction against his cock, now leaking on the matress. Draco was sure he couldn’t blush any harder but it didn’t stop him from moaning when hands grabbed his arse cheeks. How come he didn’t know he could get pleasure from there? Potter’s hands were everywhere, squeezing, pinching, scratching the soft skin.

Harry opened his cheeks, exposing his hole and run his thumb there tentatively.

'Ah- ha fuck…’ Draco buried his face in the pillow again. This wasn’t right, this was so fucking wrong, what was he doing moaning for…

'I wanna eat you up’ Harry didn’t mean to let the words escape his lips. His gaze was fixed on Malfoy’s pink hole and when it contracted under his thumb the thought of licking there, fucking him with his tongue, assaulted his mind immediately. Malfoy shivered under him.

'Wh-What are you saying?’ the tips of his ears were even redder from where Harry could see them.

Harry got off of Malfoy’s thighs and pushed them apart. He grabbed Malfoy’s hips again, pulling his ass up a bit. He could see the blond’s cock was hard and swollen, rubbing against the matress. Harry got on his elbows, squeezed Draco’s arse again and bit the already marked skin.

Draco gasped, his head jerking to the side so he could get a glimpse of Potter between his legs. Potter was sucking him at the spot he’d bitten before, his hands massaging the place where his thighs met his ass. He run his fingers there, grabbed his arse cheeks and pulled them apart. Draco drew a sharp breath.

He could hear Harry fidgeting with his own pants followed by the sound of clothes hitting the ground. Draco waved his hand towards the door, a click signalling it was now locked. He couldn’t even begin to think what would happen if anyone decided to come in.

Draco felt something wet, warm and firm press against his hole.

'Fuck fuck, you can’t- ah… ahhhh P-Potter this is…’ he gave a choking moan when Harry began to lick him relentlessly, his own moans reverberating in Draco’s skin.

Harry licked, savoured until his tongue got past the tight ring, and then he was fucking Draco, fucking him with wet and hot thrusts of his tongue. Draco kept pushing  back, gasping as he did, completely out of control.

Harry had never done that before but the second he had laid eyes on Draco’s ass, naked before him all he could thing about was opening him, filing him up to get all those delicious sounds out of him.

Draco moaned, and moaned, louder each time. The words that came out of his mouth were incoherent, interrupted by sharp intakes of air.

'Yes… This- fuck Potter… I-deep-deeper’

Deeper, he wanted it deeper. Harry grasped the tiny flask he’d left on the ground and smeared his fingers with the oil again. He retreated his tongue earning a whimper from Malfoy that turned into a sob the second Harry’s middle finger replaced his tongue, getting in smoothly. Draco gasped, shivering uncontrollably and Harry just stayed there, mouth hanging open at the view. His finger disappeared and reappeared, Malfoy sucking him in while rutting against the matress. Harry curled his finger experimentally getting Malfoy to jolt and scream, throwing his head back. Harry caressed his thigh marked with purple bruises, another finger going inside his hole. The blond hissed but didn’t tell Harry to stop so he thrusted them to the base.

Draco’s brain was shutting down. The lewd sounds filling the room paired with the smell of cinnamon overstimulating his whole body. He wanted more heat, more pressure, more skin against his but the words kept getting lost in his throat everytime he tried to voice his needs. And Potter, fuck, he knew what to do with his hands, with his mouth. That fucking tongue worked like magic inside him. Potter was moving his fingers inside him in a way Draco didn’t even know was possible, scissoring them, thrusting them to the base.

The fingers were suddenly gone. Draco inhalled sharply but before he could complain Potter grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. He laid there on his back, legs spread open, cock dripping with pre come. And Harry stared him down, took in every inch of his light skin shamelessly. Draco felt exposed even though they were both naked. His hole twitched, stretched and leaking all the oil Potter had rubbed inside him and Potter stared. He fucking stared, jerking himself as he did.

Draco grabbed his own cock and began to do the same. It was unfair, having to do it all by himself after all Potter did, that bastard. The gesture caught the Golden Boys’s attention, though, and Draco smirked.

'i want,’ Harry bent down, their chests flushed against each other, his mouth whispering in Draco’s lips. 'I want to put it in you’ he sucked Draco’s lower lip. Holy fuck, he was on the edge already. Potter moved his lips to Draco’s ear and shifted, the head of his cock now poking Draco’s entrance. Draco felt it tingle as Potter cast a protective spell. 'I want to fill you up’ he whispered against his ear.

'Fuck, fuck…’

'Has anyone ever done that?’ he nuzzled Draco’s temple, his glans rubbing against his hole. 'I’m going to take you’ Harry hold his cock steadily as he pushed an inch, stretching Malfoy for him. The blond was panting on his cheek, small sobs inbetween gasps for air.

Harry’s ability to dirty talk, even as his own mind wasn’t working properly was something he didn’t know he could do. He was blushing, panting, but the possessivness he felt made him talk. Malfoy was his, all his, he just never thought that that anger, the rush of adrenaline he felt every time they were close could be hiding something else. He always thought Malfoy was his to take down, to fight against. But he also was his to consume, to bury himself into.

Harry thrust slowly, taking in the tightness, the heat engulfing him. Malfoy was fisting his cock under him, eyes tightly shut and mouth hanging open. Harry stopped Malfoy’s hand with his own and, with a tight grip, trapped them both above his head. Malfoy opened his eyes, his grey irisis thin rings around blown pupils.

'Touch my cock’ he whispered against Harry’s lips, more a command than a pleading. Harry smashed their mouths together instead, refusing to let go of his grip. Draco shivered under him, opened his mouth, let Potter invade his mouth with that tongue. Fuck, that tongue that’d fucked him just minutes ago. And Harry kissed him, his cock deep buried to the hilt inside him. He was full, so fucking full he felt his whole body collapse when Potter started to pull back.

He thrust again, the friction, the pressure, sending shocks of pleasure to Draco’s cock, up his spine, everywhere. Through half opened eyes Draco saw Harry gazing at him, his glasses gone, his lips red, parted as puffs of air escaped them. Harry thrust hard when he realized Draco was staring back. His complex changed immediately.

'I-yes fuck ahh-ah…’ Draco’s whole body was trembling, his ass thrusting back against Harry’s cock, trying to get him to go deeper.

Harry released Draco’s hands, grabbed his thighs instead and lifted them, shoving in until his fingers were numb from the tight grip. He’d leave marks there, crimson lines, and the thought made him moan. Harry bent down again, his mouth reaching Draco’s neck. He sucked him there while he fucked hard and fast. Draco fisted his cock with one hand while the other scratched Harry’s back repeatedly.

His moans were louder now, loud enough Harry was sure people could hear them from outside the dorm. Draco didn’t seem to care, or even realize he was making those sounds.

The next moment Draco was contracting around him, trembling violently and coming on their stomachs. The pressure was enough to send Harry over the edge, his thrusts erratic as he came deep inside Draco.

Draco moaned again when he felt something hot filling him up, Harry’s last thrusts too much to handle.

Harry flopped beside him, his limbs drained of strengh.

'Merlin’ he whispered to himself.

'Yeah’

'That was…’

'Yeah’

They didn’t speak for the next couple of minutes. When Harry got up to leave, though, Draco reached for his arm.

'You could… we- uh… we could…’

Harry kissed him softly, almost clumsily before speaking 'Yeah, I- I’d like that’

***

Draco sat down that evening with Pansy and Blaise at their common room to warm themselves in front of the fire. He couldn’t help wincing a bit when he did.

'What’s wrong? I thought Potter had fixed you back’

Draco felt his face flushing immediately.

'He did! I just…’

'I’m sure he did. Just remember to go somewhere else with thicker walls next time you call him to fix your back’ Blaise didn’t even care to lift his eyes from the book he had in hands.

His cheeks were in flames and the expression on Pansy’s face wasn’t helping.

‘You owe me two favours now!’ She smirked, leaning against the couch like she’d won a bet.

‘What- Why two?’ Draco shifted and winced again at the new burning ache.

‘Because,’ She stuck up a finger like she needed to count all the favours Draco owned her. ‘I found someone to fix your back’ She lifted another finger. ‘And,’

Right that second Potter walked through the portrait followed by Granger and Weasley. He spotted Draco immediately and, well wasn’t that great, strode towards him, leaving Weasley with a confused look and Granger with a knowing one. He glanced at Pancy and saw her waving at the Gryffindor girl. Fucking amazing.

‘Hey,’ Potter stood awkwardly there before sitting on the arm of Draco’s chair. Draco knew his cheeks were already flushed but when Potter bent down and whispered in his ear he was sure he probably looked like a tomatoe. ‘Fancy a game of Wizard’s chess later?’

Pansy was shaking trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing.

‘Your dorm?’ Draco found himself playing with the hem of Potter’s hoodie. The bastard blushed at Draco’s words, but nodded with a smile on his face.

He’d barely turned his back when Draco heard Pansy’s voice loud and clear.

‘And, I got you a cute boyfriend. Two favours!’

***

Ao3 

How to Write Successful Dialogue

@albino-troll-ninja asked:

Got any feedback/advice/links for someone who wants to make lengthy, relatively action-less dialogues between characters more than just “‘Loren ipsum,’ he said.” “'Ipsum lorem’, she replied.” for forty paragraphs?

No problem!  I love dialogue, so I’m happy to be of assistance in this department.  

Here are my personal rules of thumb:

1.  Allow the dialogue to show the character’s personality.

If you really think about your conversations, it can be telling exactly how much of someone’s personality can shine through when they speak.  

Allow your character’s persona, values, and disposition to spill over when they speak, and it will make for a significantly more interesting read for you and your reader. 

For example:  let’s take a look at a mundane exchange, and see how it can be spruced up by injecting it with a good dose of personality.

Exhibit A)

“How was your day, by the way?”  asked Oscar, pouring himself a drink.

“Not too bad,” replied Byron.  “Cloudy, but warm.  Not too many people.”

“That’s nice.”   

Exhibit B) 

“How was your day, by the way?” asked Oscar, pouring himself a drink. 

“Ugh.  Not too bad,” groaned Byron, draping himself on the couch.  “Warm, but dreary.  Gray clouds as far as the eye could see.  Not anyone worth mentioning out this time of year.”  A pause.  “Well, except me, of course.”

“Hmmph,” said Oscar, glancing over his shoulder.  “If it were me, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Isn’t that better?  Already, the audience will feel as though they’ve gotten to know these characters. 

This works for longer dialogue, too:  allow the character’s personal beliefs, life philosophy, and generally disposition to dictate how they talk, and your readers will thank you.

Of course, this example is also good for giving the reader a general sense of what the characters’ relationship is like.  Which brings me to my next point:

2.  Allow the dialogue to show the character’s relationship. 

Everyone is a slightly different person depending on who they’re around.  Dynamic is an important thing to master, and when you nail it between two characters, sparks can fly.

Work out which character assumes more of the Straight Man role, and which is quicker to go for lowbrow humor.  Think of who’s the more analytical of the two and who’s the more impulse driven.  Who would be the “bad cop” if the situation called for it.  

Then, allow for this to show in your dialogue, and it will immediately become infinitely more entertaining.

Example:  

“Alright,” said Fogg, examining the map before him.  “Thus far, we’ve worked out how we’re going to get in through the ventilation system, and meet up in the office above the volt.  Then, we’re cleared to start drilling.”

Passepartout grinned.  “That’s what she said.” 

“Oh, for the love of God – REALLY, Jean.  Really!?  We are PLANNING a goddamn bank robbery!”

Some more questions about dynamic to ask yourself before writing dialogue: 

  • Who is more likely to talk and who is more likely to listen? 
  • Who would talk with their mouth full of food and who would politely wait to swallow?
  • Is their relationship fraternal/sororal?  If so, who would be the “little sibling?”
  • Is one of them a bit of a mother/father figure to the other? 
  • Who more frequently gets irritated with who?
  • Who has the more understated sense of humor?  Who’s a bit more juvenile?
  • Who’s better educated?  Does it show when they speak?
  • Who’s a bit more pretentious/full of themselves?
  • Who interrupts more?
  • Who swears more?

This can also be a valuable tool to cluing your reader in on who the characters are as people: 

3.  Think about what this dialogue can tell the reader.

It’s better to fill the reader in more gradually than to waist your valuable first chapter on needless exposition, and dialogue is a great way to do it.  

Think about what your characters are saying, and think about ways in which you can “sneak in” details about their past, their families, and where they came from into the discussion.  

For example, you could say:

Tuckerfield was a happy-go-lucky Southern guy with domineering parents,

and bore everyone to death.  

Or you could have him say: 

“Sheesh.  All this sneakin’ around in the woods late at night reminds me of being back in Kansas.  Good times, man, good times.”  There was a pause, before he added,  “‘Course, it wasn’t nearly so fun when I came home late for curfew and had to sleep on the front step, but y’know.  Life happens.”

Isn’t that much better than the omnipresent monotone?

Dialogue is also a great way to fill in potential plot holes early on, by having your characters talk them out and explain them. 

Moreover, dialogue can also be used to foreshadow, offer relevant hints about the climax, or provide information necessary for the resolution.  

So use it wisely!  

4.  Sprinkle in mini-actions throughout. 

Even in actionless dialogue, no one actually does nothing.  In my case, for example, I stim a lot.  I play with my hair.  I play with eating utensils.  It’s probably very annoying for those around me, but you get the point.

Less fidget-y folks might not do this as much, but they rarely sit totally still during conversations, either.  So occasionally add in these mini-actions, and it will make your characters feel a bit less like disembodied voices or floating heads.

For instance:  

Jo leaned back in her chair rolling her stiff neck from sitting still for so long.  “…So the way I see it,” she continued.  “Even if Pheris Beuller’s Day Off didn’t take place in Cameron’s imagination, Pheris was clearly a sociopath whose behavior shouldn’t be glamorized.”

“Ha.  As if.”  Avery paused to sip her root beer.  “Pheris,” she began, raising an index finger.  “Was clearly emblematic of counterculturist movements such as the Beat Generation, and his disregard for the capitalistic dogmas imposed upon younger generations is something to be admired.” 

“For Christ’s sake, will you two lighten up?”  scoffed Leo, counting out bills for the pizza.  “We were talking about which movie we wanted to watch tonight.  Jesus.”

5.  Remember how people actually speak.

In real life conversations, people don’t speak in paragraphs.  Alright, some people might, and this can actually be interesting as the personality aspect of a certain type of character.  

But generally speaking, people don’t speak in paragraphs, or as though they’re writing thought-out prose or letters.

In real conversations, people stutter.  They laugh at their own jokes, repeat words or phrases, and lose their train of thought.

Naturally, you don’t have to illustrate in your writing exactly how chaotic and mundane human speech can be, as writing would be pretty boring in general if it was strictly limited to miming reality.  But it’s good to keep in mind that your characters are talking, not writing in purple prose.

Exhibit A: 

“When I was a young boy, my mother and I had a most tumultuous relationship,” said Marcus.  “She saw me as a hallmark of her past failures, and took every opportunity to remind me as such.”     

Exhibit B:

“My mom, when I was kid, we had what you’d call a sort of tumultuous relationship,” said Marcus.  “Nothing I ever did was right for her.  She, uh – I think she saw me as sort of a hallmark of her past failures.  Took every opportunity to remind me of that.”    

Which of these is more organic, more easy to visualize, and more telling of character?  Unless the point of this dialogue is to illustrate that Marcus is a gentleman crook of some kind with pristine speaking mannerisms, I’m going to say the latter. 


Best of luck, I hope this helps, and happy writing!  <3

Babygirl

Summary: Dan is an innocent virgin and Phil is the bad-boy who likes to make him flustered. High school Pastel!Dan and Punk!Phil AU

Genre: Smut that’s kinda kinky but mostly cute

Word count: 4,039

Kinks: Feminization, daddy kink, dirty talk, a little verbal humiliation

You can also read on AO3 here.

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SKAM S04E10 Clip 8 - Dear Sana

[Incomprehensible chatter]

SANA: He’s the one who bought the toilet paper rolls.

THE GIRLS: Oh! That’s right!

VILDE: Where did they end up?

BOY: I just sold them to some friends at the Mosque. Nothing big.

EVA: Oh, okay.

BOYS: Eyyyy!

ESKILD: Eid mubarak! Eid mubarak.

SANA: Hi!

ESKILD: Hi!

SANA: Welcome.

ESKILD: Thank you and I just wanted to say Eid mubarak!

SANA: Eid mubarak!

ESKILD: Eid mubarak

SANA: Ohhh, how nice the two of you look!

ESKILD: Thanks! I’m the one who chose the outfits for tonight. I went to Grøndland and did some shopping. Yes.

SANA: Hijab and everything?

ESKILD: Hijab and everything. And I brought a little present! I brought a gift for the hostess. It’s two boreks that I put in a nice box.

SANA: That’s very nice of you.

Keep reading

⇁ nudes, not flowers | 02

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

pairing⇁Hoseok x Reader x Jungkook

genre⇁smut || fuckboi!au

warnings⇁voyeurism + exhibitionism, dom!junghope, power play?, dirty talk!!!, jealousy, demeaning names during sex, the threesome, & probably other warnings byE 

word count⇁10.4k 

You’re not supposed to fall for Jung Hoseok and his repertoire of awful pick-up lines—but you do. The problem is: he’s afraid of commitment, and bolts at the idea of settling down. After that, you decide to stay far away from fuckboys, but his friend decides to test your new found resolutions.

or : Jungkook wants to see how far he can push Hoseok until he snaps

 ⇁  01 | 02 (final)  sequel

Keep reading

Darkiplier and Antisepticeye

Ok first of all, holy mother of fucks, @markiplier ‘s valentine’s day video was absolutely the best thing ever! (along with @therealjacksepticeye ‘s halloween video).

if you haven’t watch Mark’s video, I suggest you you go now before reading this post (if you actually even read it xD) because it might contain spoilers.

Ok so we now have physical proof of Darkiplier’s existence, just like Anti’s. I love how they both act alike with the glitches and all, but they’re still so different from each other. from what I saw with Jack and Anti, it seems like Anti fights Jack for control of the physical body. Anti was restless, he’d do anything and everything to take full control of Jack’s body, including killing Jack which is kinda what he did in the halloween video when he cut his throat. He just wanted freedom, and he has no problem in blaming us (the fans) for his actions towards Jack (“you all said my name”, “YOU” “its all your fault” “you all made this happen” “you could’ve stopped me… but you just watched as this happened” “now he’s gone forever”). He knows exactly what to say to make us feel guilty. that sounds an awful lot like a sociopath. I might be wrong but I just did some research (I wouldn’t be writing this without doing my homework ahah) and some of the traits are:

  • Repeated violations of the law
  • Pervasive lying and deception
  • Physical aggressiveness
  • Reckless disregard for safety of self or others
  • Consistent irresponsibility in work and family environments
  • Lack of remorse

you can see most of these behaviors in Anti. Antisepticeye is a sociopath.


now Darkiplier on the other hand…


from what I saw in mark’s valentine’s day video, Dark looked like he had more self control. he seemed awfully calm. he wasn’t trying to fight Mark for a chance of controling the body. he was waiting for Mark to actually let him in (”I’ve been waiting patiently” “he promised he would let me in again”) and this makes me think… Dark is strong enough to take over Mark’s body without actually attacking Mark the way Anti did with Jack. and Mark knows it. so he made a deal. he would let Dark get in from time to time, if he promised not to hurt anyone. obviously Dark wouldn’t keep that promise like we see in the 14 million subs video for example. now lets take a look at some of the psychopath traits:

  • Lack of guilt/remorse
  • Lack of empathy
  • Lack of deep emotional attachments
  • Narcissism
  • Superficial charm
  • Dishonesty
  • Manipulativeness
  • Reckless risk-taking

I don’t know about you but these scream Darkiplier to me. you can see how emotionally detached he is from us. he just wants to toy with our emotions. this is all but a game to him. and he doesn’t care about the consequences (”take your pick. anything of four different choices”, “and lets see how far down this rabbit hole really goes” “so take your pick. show me what you got”, “and maybe we’ll have a good date after all”). he gives us a sense of security and happiness(?) (”if dinner is what you want, then I can provide”, “and I can take you to wherever you’d like to go”), only to be crushed by a statement that makes us fear for our own life (”I can specially take you to places where you DON’T want to go”), leaving us on the edge. he makes us think he actually cares about us (”I’ve been waiting a long time to get some personal space between us”), when he actually just wants to hurt us (”THERE’S NOTHING YOU OR HE CAN DO TO STOP ME”, “youre never, ever going to escape me”).

and if you notice, after you’ve chosen who to kill, you’ll see that if you choose the left option, Mark looks so worried and empathetic over us, trying to reassure us… after all we just killed someone and he’s worried about us (compared to the Mark we’re left with, if you choose the right option). at the end, it turns out we killed the wrong Mark, and we’re left with Dark in front of us. for a second we believed we killed the right Mark, seeing how calm and not evil M(D)ark was acting towards us. that is manipulation. Dark made us believe we were safe now, that we made the right choice, only to crush that sense of safeness right when we were starting to get confortable and at peace (”oops… looks like you made the wrong choice”, “but now we’re going to be together…. forever”)

I strongly believe Darkiplier is a psychopath and Antisepticeye is a sociopath. they both act differently towards Jack and Mark and their fans, but at the same time, in a very similar way. I believe the reason Anti is so glitchy and Dark is so “HD quality” (xD) is because Anti forced his way into Jack and obviously thats gonna leave some damage, while Dark waited (im)patiently for his turn to take over the body.


I just want to congratulate @therealjacksepticeye and @markiplier for portraying these characters, made up by the fans, so unbelievably well, and thank them for taking their time to make something, created by the community, come true like this. you guys are amazing.


this is just my theory, if you disagree or have something to say, I’d be more than happy to hear your theories, but don’t be rude or anything.

also, if you read this giant post till the end, thank you so much for taking your time to do so :) sorry if this was a bit confusing xD 

________

edit: if you want a bit more input on their disorders, take a look at this post

please, I would love to hear your opinions on it

blehblehblargh  asked:

Hi kiwi! 😀 I have a question. How do you manage to draw your OCS so consistent all the time? Even when its a simple doodle I can tell what character it is! I have a few different OCS and it seems like whenever I get really good at drawing one, the way I draw a different one gets worse.

first off thanks !!! it helps that ive drawn each of them about two bazillion times 

but other than just practicing to stay consistent, its important to design the character with recognizable traits to begin with

the formula i use for creating characters that will be recognizable through any style is to
1. base them off one specific shape
2. give them one or two immediately recognizable features, so that even when the proportions are off or you switch styles itll strike you as that character

take these drawings of ophelia for example, which by no means are consistent in style or proportion

(as far as getting good at drawing one character and another getting worse– its probably not that you got worse, your eye for detail has just gotten better so you can notice the flaws easier. its a big ole carousel of updating and redesigning ocs to keep up with your skill level)

if youre struggling to make them look the same every time, try simplifying. draw your character with less and less lines and see how long it takes for them to be unrecognizable. if you dont get very far, it may not be your skill at drawing consistently, their design just needs a bit of spice. (a good design isnt necessarily a complicated one– focus on building a unique foundation instead of adding details to make them distinct)

i bet you can guess right away who these guys are, even though theyre entirely off model (a very exaggerated example, but you get my point)

I want you to remember me like this.
Smiling despite how much I hate how it looks, with my guard down completely. Laughing so much I can’t breathe, holding onto the collar of your shirt like a railing. Looking at you as much as I can before you look away, because you can never really let me see all of you. I think your scared that if I do I’ll run away.
I could’ve ran so many times before, and maybe I should’ve. Maybe I should’ve ran as fast and as far as my feet could take me. Maybe I should’ve, before your voice became my favorite song and your eyes my favorite color.
But if I ran back then you wouldn’t be in front of me right now, and I’ve never felt more content in my life then being here, staring into your eyes on the back of someone’s porch at 2am.
—  v.m
Discipline 101

So you have the ambition. You have all the answers. All you lack is the discipline.

Unsurprisingly, this is a problem most people have, so don’t worry, you’re not alone.

Tell me, do you have a concrete goal? Or is it something vague like, “Rule the world”, or “get rich” or “become famous”?

Usually those who lack discipline have a habit of getting ahead of themselves and they end up having all these fantastic goals without any knowledge of how to achieve them. They have big ambitions, but no clear plans, no visible steps, and no foundation to start their life on. It’s the equivalent of standing on one side of the river and being able to see the other side, but having no method of making it across.

It’s good to have a starting point, and know what you want in the end. But the path to earning what you desire isn’t pre-made for you. It’s up to you to lay every brick and measure everything out. In your life, you’re the architect, you’re the engineer, you’re the investor, you’re everything.

So the how do you get some discipline?  It’s simple: You need to know how you’re going to do something, before you set out to do it.

Step 1: Get Motivated

Make a list. And make sure you handwrite it. Two columns. Think about everything you have a problem with, all your interests and passions, and everything you have ever wanted in one column. In the other column, spend as much time as you need to come up with solutions to each issue/goal. Don’t write one side, without the other.

Spend a couple days looking at that list. Make it into a poster, use it as your phone background, it doesn’t matter as long as you make sure you see it every day until you feel something. I’m saying that incredibly vaguely because people are fueled by different emotions. For me, it was rage.

Every morning, I stared at that list of everything I’d ever wanted, every little problem that made my life miserable and I got furious. To see what my life revolved around so callously written on paper, and feeling so close yet so far, that drove me insane. My anger made my passion double, and nothing fuels discipline more than passion.

Step 2: Plan

Once you’ve gotten yourself suitably motivated to take charge of your life, don’t waste any time. Start by creating a plan. Now that you know what you want to do, figure out how to do it.

Create a timeline for the next year and then a looser version for the next ten years. It can sound daunting, but when you fall off track at some point (and I can guarantee, you will) you’re going to need something to point you in the right direction.

For your detailed, one year plan, make sure your goals are distributed into two categories: Short term and Long term.  

For your short term goals, list everything you want to achieve in that year and how exactly you’re going to do it.

For example,  if you want to lose weight, I don’t just want to see you write down “lose weight”. Tell me how. Tell me how much. Tell me by when. “Lose five pounds by October by going to the gym 4 days a week”, or “Cut down on eating X food so I can lose 5 pounds by October”, etc. Be specific.

For your long term goals, pick 3 things you want in general. The first thing should be something you can achieve in that year, and it should be the focus of your entire year. The second thing is something you don’t necessarily need, but it makes you happy anyways (like spending more time on a hobby, or saving money for a new designer bag, etc.). The third thing should be something that stays fairly consistent in every single ‘year-plan’ you have. Ultimately, it’s either your most important desire, or very close to it.

These long term goals will help you put together your 10 year plan, and create a better sense of direction in your life.

Step 3: Prioritize

Learn to prioritize these tasks and goals. Don’t go to sleep until you’ve felt like you’ve completed all your tasks for the day. Don’t give in to distractions and the illusion of “well-deserved fun”. Sure, going clubbing may seem fun on  Saturday, but it won’t be fun on Sunday night when you’re frantically writing a paper that’s due in two hours. There’s always time for fun later, there’s always another concert and another football game and another party. But some things have a greater impact on your life than just one night of “fun”.

I’m not saying become some kind of a workaholic. There’s always a time and a place for everything. If you try to follow your plan without any distractions or any fun, you’re going to get bored and then you’re start to hate your plan and your life and then it gets messy. Avoid all that by knowing when you’ve earned a break. It’s very important to discern when you can afford to step away from work to have fun with your friends and when going out is just going to distract you from an important deadline. 

Step 4: Act

Now, don’t just write these goals down and shove them in a dusty file on your desk. Keep them within arms reach. Look at them frequently. What I like to do is every morning, I write down a short term goal I have for that week/day/month and one of my long-term goals in my planner. It’s just a little reminder and keeps me focused throughout the day. I don’t feel like my day is complete or productive until I’ve had some progress on either the long term or short term goal.

Also, keep in mind that while planning is a great thing to do, don’t expect yourself to stick to every single detail of the plan. Life happens, and there are certain things you cannot control (although it wouldn’t hurt to try). Don’t be too hard on yourself if you find yourself unable to complete one of your goals for the day/week/month. It happens to everyone, we’re all human. What you need to focus on is the big picture and move on. Don’t waste precious time wallowing in past mistakes. Time doesn’t wait for anyone, least of all for you.

Step 5: Commit

Discipline doesn’t come from just being motivated or having a plan. It comes from consistency. Form productive habits, start efficient routines, and stick to them. For example, if you want to become a writer, make sure you write something, however small it is, everyday. One sentence, one paragraph, one page, the amount doesn’t matter. It’s important to understand that something, however small, is better than nothing. This constant dedication to your work will help you move one step closer to your goals.

The more you force yourself to stay in line when faced with temptation, the easier it will be every other time you are faced with the same challenge further down the line. Everyone forms habits. Just make sure they’re the right ones and you’d be shocked at how much your life could change.

Everything you need to become disciplined is inside of you. Everyone has the willpower and motivation. It’s just some people know what to do with it.

Just remember: Get motivated. Plan. Prioritize. Act. Commit

And the world is yours.

I want to take you to the movies and i want to pay for your ticket i want to buy a large popcorn for us to share so that i have an excuse to touch your hand and i want to look at you whenever there’s a joke so i can see you laugh and it will warm my heart. i want to stand outside the theatre at midnight while you wait for your dad to come get you and i want to here you talk about the movie i want to see the combined light of the coming soon posters and the moon on your face.

I want to take you to the beach. i want to put up the umbrella while you laugh every time i think it’s in the sand but falls over a few moments later. i want to see you dive headfirst into the water, i want to stand there in awe of your bikini clad confidence while i stand in my oversized t-shirt and shorts. i want to hold your hand as we walk in the surf i want to feel the water hit my ankles, i want to swim out as far as we can go and see who can hold her breath the longest.

i want to rake leaves with you, with our little brothers… i want to listen to you talk about how much you love him, i want to watch your eyes light up, i want to grab your arm and pull us into the giant pile of leaves. i want to collaps laughing beside you as the sun starts to dip below the horizon i want to notice the leaf in your hair and laugh as i brush it away.

I want to take you ice skating, at the rink they set up in the park next to my house. i want to hold your hand because it’s been so long since i’ve worn a pair of skates. i want to fall on my ass and then on my back because i’m laughing so hard, i want you to land next to me. i want to give you my coat and take you home when you get cold. i want to make you hot chocalate and throw marshmallows for you to try and catch in your mouth. i want to cuddle in front of the fire underneath a huge blanket and tell you how cold your hands are.

i want to take you to the fair at the end of summer. i want to win you something at one of those games tables. i want to scream and giggle with you while we ride the zipper i want to swear that i’ll never do that again but know that i’ll be back next year. i want to eat cotton candy while we sit on a bench watching people walk past us. i want to get stuck at the top of the ferris wheel with you, i want to talk about how small everything looks from up here i want to tell you that no matter how high i got i’d still be able to pick you in a crowd.

I want to take you stargazing. I want to climb onto my roof with a blanket and a bottle of wine. I want to listen to the leaves rustling beside us and i want to listen to your wine drunk ramblings about how the stars are so beautiful. i want to show you how even though we are so very small in this universe i couldn’t feel more comfortable and significant lying here with you.

i want to go shopping with you. i  want to find the dress shirt i need in ten minutes but stay in the store for hours because you can’t decide between the hundreds of dresses you see. i want to sit in the chair outside the dressing rooms. i want you to show me every dress, i want to tell you that you look amazing in every single one of them, half because i want to leave this chair but also because you do look amazing in anything you wear.

i want to take you to the school football games. i’ll have to bring my camera i want to end up having just as many photos of you as i do the game. i want to kiss you every time we score, and because that doesn’t happen very often at our school i want to kiss you every time the other team scores. i want to end the night drinking that crappy hot chocolate that’s really just chocolate syrup and boiling water.

i want to meet your parents because they’re so much more accepting than mine who will still think we’re just friends. i want to hold your hand under the dinner table. i want to pretend to be casual and confident when really my heart is racing my stomach is doing backflips and i can’t catch a breath.

i want to hold you in my bed. i’ll be the big spoon because i want to protect you and keep you warm. i want to put my laptopat the foot of my bed so we can watch movies. I want to play with your hair and kiss your neck. i want to feel you breathe against my chest. i want to pile as many blankets as i can find on top of us. i want to let you fall asleep on my chest. i want to stay awake for as long as i can because i want to savour that moment i want to memorize the curve of your body and the smell of your hair and the rythm of your breathing. i want to only sleep when i can no longer hold my eyes open and dream of nothing but you.

i want to take you on cheesy dates and hug you so hard that you forget everything wrong with the world. i want to kiss you so hard you forget to breathe.

but most of all i want you to want me

It’s not your ulcer

“I am not a diabetic. Look, this morning my blood sugar was 193 and I hadn’t even eaten anything. That’s not diabetes.”

“Ma’am, that 100% is diabetes.” This conversation quickly became a stalemate between ignorance and my inability to explain her diagnosis in a way she would accept. In fact, every conversation I had with her went this way. She was perhaps the most obstinate and oblivious patient I had ever met. And she was my patient. 

She had come in with the worst foot ulcer I have ever seen. It tracked all the way down to the bone, meaning an amputation was likely in her future. According to her, the ulcer had started a couple days before and she had never had an ulcer before in her life. I used my years of medical training to quickly deduce that a) there was no way that ulcer happened in a few days and b) she most definitely had two very bad looking ulcers on the other foot. When I pointed that out she became upset, telling me they were just split calluses, not ulceration. Every attempt to diagnose and explain the diagnosis was refuted by her “intimate knowledge of her own body.” 

The next several days were some of my most frustrating. I was called to her room for numerous reasons, including refusing insulin (because she wasn’t diabetic), refusing dressing changes (because she was allergic to the dressing), complaining that the hospital food was inedible and rotted, and yelling at nurses about their inadequate care. Each time I walked to the room and took my verbal lashings. I listened. I empathized. I did everything I could to put myself in her place and see the fear she likely felt about losing her foot. 

None of that was enough.

I am not sure if I have ever truly hated a patient. But with her, I came close. Despite my ill-feelings I spent hours coordinating her care between multiple surgical specialties, all of which wanted to pass on taking a non-compliant diabetic, vasculopath to the OR. Podiatry, vascular, and orthopedics all subtly yelled, “not it.” 

Several days into her hospital stay I expressed my frustration to my attending. “They are not your ulcers,” he replied. I looked back, confused, as he continued. “They are not your ulcers. If you care for every patient’s problem as if it were your own, it will destroy you. She got herself into this and she has to bear some responsibility for getting herself out. If she refuses to take our recommendations as to her care, there is nothing we can do. There are times you have to step back and separate yourself from the patient.”  

I have thought about his words a lot since then. In some ways if feels antithetical to my nature to see medicine as a job. But I have also experienced the severe mental fatigue and frustration that comes with trying to help a patient unwilling to help themselves. At the end of the day, how far should we go? How much time should I spend on one uncooperative patient knowing it takes time away from other patients who also need my services? In the end I did step back from the case and allow myself to see my care for her as something closer to a job. I switched off service a few days later and the last I knew she was getting an amputation, though she spent time fighting with surgeons about where they could cut.     

At some point we have to protect ourselves as physicians, despite how mentally strong we believe ourselves to be. This year has taught me a lot of medicine, but it has also challenged me mentally. I am still searching for the coping skills necessary to survive life as a resident and eventually as an independent doctor. Despite the frustration this patient provided, she did allow me some excellent learning in this area. In the end, I have to appreciate her for that.  

Don't be so stupid

Could you do a rough kinky Jerome smut?

——

I straighten the covers and place the money in my safe box under the bed. Another night of work. I laugh at my own statement. Ha! Work! All you do is take rejected men’s money for a wild time.

I haven’t been doing this long. Only a couple months, but I’ve made more money than you can believe!

I know how people look at me. I see the stares of shame. How some women cross the street trying to get as far away from me as possible like they might catch something.

They wouldn’t. I don’t let any man go there. Only one man has ever taken me there. Only one man I will ever let go beyond the methods I use on other men. No one has touched me since the day he was murdered.

As I scrub the filth away from my body I think back to how Jerome took me. He had different ways of making me feel head over heels. Some nights he would take me hard and rough where the bed would get close to breaking, than other nights when he was feeling love sick he would worship me. He would thrust passionately kissing my body and telling me how beautiful I am.

I step out of the shower leaving the painful memories behind. I wrap a towel around my body and go down to the kitchen to make a drink. I get out the ingredients for a rock hard drink but then a knock on the door interrupts me.

I sigh and open it to see a man with cash in hand. He raises his brow and pushes past me. Is this really my life? He throws the money at me and sits on the sofa.

I walk over to him and set the cash on the hood in his trousers. “It’s late.” I say and make my way to the door to open it for him. He laughs and throws the cash at me with force. “Suck it whore.” This man was clearly drunk and out of his mind to think he can talk to me like that.

Though financial worries enter my brain. I need the money. I need it to get away from here. I sigh and rest on my knees giving the man what he paid for.

Once done I stand up quickly and feel like I should rinse my mouth out with bleach. Just then another knock rings out. A loud one. One of demand.

I move to open the door. “I can see why you’re so popular dollface.” I grasp the handle hard and turn to him with a displeased expression. “Don’t-” “CALL HER THAT!” A screaming voice beats me to it. I know that voice.

I open the door thinking I’m crazy. I’m hearing voices again. I swing open the door to see him. “J-Jer-” he places his finger against my lips and strides into the room seeing the man. He turns to me with fire in his eyes. “Did he touch you?” I shake my head gripping my towel closer to my body scared.

Jerome comes closer and I take in his appearance. Staples? I have to say it’s not his worst look.

The man on the couch scoffs. “No. She never lets anyone get in there. To stubborn. I’ve got to say she makes up for it man. Come here and sit. She does magic.” Jerome laughs. “Oh I know. She’ll ride me like a good girl any day.” The man once again scoffs. “Ha sure! She’s not gonna let some random person in there!” The man laughs.

Jerome turns to him with a smirk. “Oh I’m not a stranger. I was her first isn’t that right darling?” He asks lifting my chin up. “Well go on baby girl. Tell him how I’m the only one who’s ever touched your pussy.” Jerome moves me in front of the man and grips my hips. “He’s the only man to ever touch my pussy.” I say feeling Jerome move his hand beyond the towel and run his fingers over the skin of my hip. I shiver under his touch missing him exceedingly.

The man on the couch slaps his knee with a jealous expression. “Oh man! Lucky you! You’re okay with her doing this though? That’s what I call a working relationship!” Jerome’s hand goes further and slips between my wet folds. He circles my clit with pressure making my body lean into his. Jerome laughs and removes his hand. Instead he lifts up the back of the towel and grips my ass. “Actually no. You see I’ve been gone for a while. This is news to me. I find this…humiliating, and revolting.” Jerome then fiddled with his own trousers and releases himself. I feel him from behind as he starts to rub his head across my wet folds. The man on the couch just stares as if he’s in heaven.

Jerome laughs. “My my my doll. You really haven’t let anyone touch you. So tight I can even thrust into you, but as for you…enjoying the snow?” Jerome thrusts hard entering me. Filling me up like he use to. I arch back into him wanting more. Needing more. The man on the couch looks at me and nods his head.

Jerome laughs and pulls out a gun. He places the barrel to my head as he continues to thrust into me pulling my hair back. “Should I shoot you? Hm? Do you deserve to live knowing the things you’ve done? You dirty whore. Who do you belong to?” “You. You Jerome!” I moan out enjoying the blissful pleasure he’s bestowing upon me. “That’s right doll! I want you to do so for me okay?” Jerome whispers in my ear. “Shoot him.” Jerome says placing the gun in my hand.

I aim the barrel at him and pull the trigger with a rush enveloping me. The mans blood splatters on the wall and he falls completely limp. Jerome growls and rips the towel away turning me around. “You’re in so much trouble.” He says and pushes me against the wall hiking me up and thrusting into me hard and fast. I place my arms around him moaning his name over and over again. “Say it again doll. Scream it.” He says and moves his hand to rub my clit. I toss my head back against the wall in pure pleasure. “Jerome!” I moan out.

He moves to sit on the couch next to the dead man still spilling blood. “What do you say princess? You wanna ride me?” I nod eagerly and place myself above him cock and sliding down on him. Jerome grips my hips as I bouch on his cock making us both feel pleasures we haven’t had for a year.

Jerome rubs his fingers against the blood on the man’s wound and covers his hand in the thick red liquid. He proceeds to trail his hand down my body making a line from my breast, to my stomach, and right above my crotch. “Ah you’re such a good girl. You’re going to cum aren’t you? Go on doll. Cum for me.” I do as he says and release on him and seconds he fills me up with his own cum.

Jerome moves my hair out of the way and kisses me. “You’re mine. Don’t be so stupid to think otherwise. No other man looks at you. Ever! Understood?” He caresses my cheek with a smile. “Yes J.” He laughs and picks me up. “Then why don’t we make up for lost time? Sound good?” I smile and kiss his nose. “Sounds perfect.”

Originally posted by bonelotus

3

@sukikobold said:

I always want to see more acrobatic stuff with Raz. :)

It took awhile but here! Seriously, I love that there’s a plausible reason for Raz being so good at the platformer puzzles in Psychonauts. I wonder if he visits his family at the circus sometimes to perform super fancy stunts with some psychic abilities added in for extra showy-ness :’D My sister is also struggling through the Meat Circus level currently, and I couldn’t help drawing something for it Ovo;;; wish her luck

Also, kind of unrelated, I bet the Aquatos have circus animals. Like elephants. Or a tiger Raz has become really close with because one day he found out he could talk to her :’)

Lately, I’ve been seeing something slightly bothersome around studyblr, and I just want to say something about it. Basically, there seems to be this attitude cropping up (or at least that I’ve seen/heard about more frequently these days) that your grades reflect your level of effort, or that by simply working hard and putting more effort in, your grades will automatically improve. I disagree.

Yes, there are certainly some cases where you’re already proficient in a class and if you just put in the extra time to study, you’d do better. But there are some classes where grades are not a measure of the level of effort you put in, and therein lies my biggest issue with the grading system and these types of studyblr posts in general. This was certainly the case with me in honors physics (so bear with me, because I have a very large point to make with the following anecdote).

Personally, I’ve always had “easy A” classes where I don’t have to work hard; my brain and academic strengths simply favor me in that particular subject, so with minimal effort I can still be top in the class. And then I see peers who go in for tutoring every day, who spend hours studying and meeting with teachers, who basically invest 100 times the effort I do… and still can’t get above a B or C.

This is not to mention people who take classes that are “reaches” and, accordingly, don’t do so well – even though they work hard – because it’s a challenge. Then there are those who take lower level classes but have capabilities beyond that – and don’t need to put effort in – thus giving them an unfairly easy A. Does their A mean that they work harder? That they’re a better student, studier, scholar, intellectual? Hell to the no.

English is one of those “easy A” classes for me. I’m just innately strong in verbal-linguistic intelligence (going off of Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences), so I’ve literally never had to study for English tests or reading comp/writing. But put me in other classes, particularly science classes? Well, that’s something else entirely.

Which brings me to junior year honors physics. 

Guys, I studied my ASS off, for hours at a time. I desperately Skyped people in my class nearly every night to try to understand the homework and spent every lunch block trying to master the material. I met with my physics teacher and tutor all the time and had a dozen anxiety attacks (and I mean actual, diagnosed anxiety attacks) over that one class because I tried harder than I’ve ever tried… and I got a B for the whole year. I was the one who dreaded seeing that red number scrawled on my test, who shoved it into my backpack before others could see and blinked back tears, thinking, But I studied so hard!

Physics was a nightmare I was desperate to forget by the end of junior year. But then a couple things happened that shocked me, and I instantly thought of them when I read some of these posts about good effort = good grades.

Now, my physics teacher, who has a reputation for being on the strict side and being a tough grader, has had four teaching assistants (TAs) in five years of teaching. Most science teachers at my school have as many as five a year. At the end of 11th grade, after I’d scraped by with a B in his class, he asked me if I wanted to be a TA. Out of the entire grade – out of the multitude of students I’d watched parade past with straight A’s and “that test was so easy” and “I barely studied” and “sorry Edye I don’t know how else to explain it to you” – he chose me.

I think I (very graciously) blurted out, “What? Why?” because I was so taken aback. He said that I was hardworking and dedicated – that I’d always gone above and beyond in my studying and meeting with him – and he wanted someone like me to be a TA. I was flattered, and I thoroughly enjoyed being a TA during senior year. (Also, anyone who doesn’t think he’s super nice is incredibly wrong. He’s awesome.)

Two years later, I got to read his college recommendation for me. Bear in mind that I was not, based on my grades, a top student in his class. And this is what he wrote for his opening line:

Honors Physics is a rigorous course that draws from the strongest students in the junior class and Edye proved to be one of those students.

What? He had seen my report card, right? I got worse grades than all of my friends. I got a goddamn 66 on a test in that class, my all time low. He continued:

One of the many examples of Edye’s commitment [is when she] had been ill and missed quite a bit of school and consequently had a lot of school work to make up in all of her classes.  Many students in this situation would take one or more classes pass / fail for the quarter; Edye would not take the pass/fail option and insisted she complete all the work and complete it with the grade she would earn.  She did in fact complete all of the work and with a B-.  A remarkable accomplishment considering she kept current with her studies while making up all of the missed work.

He called a B-minus “a remarkable accomplishment.” Did he say “too bad she didn’t put enough effort in, which was reflected in a B-minus” or “she only got a B-minus, so I guess she didn’t try hard enough”? No, he praised the amount of effort I put in, even though I didn’t even get a “good” grade.

I’m hardly one to knock putting in effort, but what bothers me is that this attitude, that effort = good grades, has the potential to make people feel bad. To feel like if they aren’t acing a class even though they’re studying harder than anybody else, well, they just aren’t trying hard enough. Yes, grades are important. So is effort. But they are not always directly correlated. As is evidenced by my story, sometimes people who get lower grades have worked even harder then those who got high grades. And, if they’re lucky, this will be acknowledged. (I can certainly attest that while I’ve been praised by English teachers for my writing skills and intellect, they’ve never singled me out for putting in an exceptional amount of effort. They know that while I’m proactive and responsible, I don’t try super hard because, well, I don’t really need to in order to get a good grade.)

Encourage other students to put in a reasonable amount of effort; recommend different study methods. But don’t tell them that good effort = good grades. Teach them to measure their success by looking at how productive they’re being, how proactive they are in reaching out for help, how dedicated they are to their education, how resilient they are in the face of obstacles, how committed they are to school. Admire those who refuse to take the easy way out, even if they only get a C. These qualities, which are far more important than a 4.0, just don’t always translate directly into good grades.

I dislike seeing this message all over Tumblr, that to get better grades you just have to try harder – which carries with it the implication that if you don’t get good grades, it’s because you aren’t putting enough effort in – when I know from firsthand experience that this is not always true. I strongly believe in trying to be the best student you can be, rather than trying to be in the top 5%. But in the end, do what works for you. Just take it with a grain of salt.

And to my followers, and anyone reading this… please know that, if you work hard regardless of your grades, you are already a model student, and you are absolutely someone I look up to.

Innocence (M)

WARNING: graphic smut, oral, jealousy, strong language, idk it’s smut.

Summary: You’re Hoseok’s, and no one else’s.

Originally posted by meanyoongis


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What is a tarot journal?


A tarot journal is a tool you can use to keep a record of all of your personal readings among other things such as; tarot study, tarot tips and tricks, your personal progress as a reader, and much more.

What are a few of the benefits of tarot journaling?

  • Card stalkers. You know, those cards that seem to follow you around for weeks, popping up in almost every reading you do for yourself. These cards are trying to tell you something important but can all too often go unnoticed. Tarot journaling helps to provide a record for yourself so you can look back and see when and where these cards pop up for you. You can go back and read your interpretations of the card in each individual reading and see if there are any patterns to your “stalker card’s” message.
  • Learning and growing as a reader. For some, the best way to learn is through repetition. Tarot journaling can help with this by allowing you to hand write the meaning of each card in your deck as they appear in your personal readings. Over time this will help the cards definitions to stick in your mind.
  • Taking an in depth look. Too often when we do tarot readings for ourselves, we take a quick glance at the cards, think we know what message is coming through, and then move onto the next thing. Tarot journaling requires the reader to slow down during a reading. Taking the time to write down our interpretations requires us to give more thought to what we are writing down. This will help you to catch any connections or messages that you might have missed by quickly glancing at the cards that came up.
  • Personal growth. Almost like a diary, you can look back and see how far you have come. Some of your older readings may make you want to cringe with embarrassment but one thing is for certain, you will have a clear map of your progress in both your tarot reading abilities and your personal life.
  • Trying out new tarot tricks. Did they work well? Did they not work well? Tarot journaling will help you to keep track of what does and does not work for you as a reader.
  • Measuring your accuracy as a reader. Tarot journaling will give you a record to look back on. After you have allowed some time to pass, take a look back at your tarot journal to see what parts of your reading came to pass and what parts turned out to be inaccurate.
  • Therapy. Tarot journaling allows you to form that conversation and connection with yourself just as you would with a client. Try not to take a cold approach to your tarot journaling and allow yourself to emotionally and spiritually connect to what you are writing down.
  • You can go back and add things as your reading starts to play out. Maybe something that came up in your reading doesn’t make sense in the moment but does later on. Tarot journaling allows you to go back and add any connections that may come up for you after the reading has already been done.  

What you need:

  • A journal or notebook of any kind
  • Something to write with
  • Your deck or card app
  • A quiet work space
  • And you

What to include in your tarot journal:

  • Your question to the tarot
  • The deck you used to do the reading
  • The date you did the reading
  • The name of the spread used
  • A picture or drawing of the spread
  • The cards that came up and your interpretation of them.
  • Connect the cards to your real life situation. Don’t just go by book definition alone. Jotting down the book definition is okay but in addition, write down your connection to the cards that come up. How do the cards fit into YOUR unique story?
  • A review of your reading after some time has passed may help you to see where you misinterpreted and where you were spot on.
  • Your feelings and thoughts.
  • Imagery. What do you think, see, and feel when you look at the cards that came up in your reading?
  • Get creative. Stickers, post its, highlighters, art work, collages, ect…
  • If you are new to tarot and have not yet memorized the meanings of all 78 cards, try writing your intuitive version of the reading and then journal the reading again based off the book definitions. How do the two interpretations line up with each other?

Happy journaling sunshines. I hope you love tarot journaling as much as I do!!

Love Always Wakes the Dragon

(and suddenly flames everywhere)

It could be worse. You do have all the luxuries befitting a princess, though one charged with treason. But a gilded cage is still a cage. And the prospect of withering away in this, the tallest tower of the Palace of Asgard, in the same place where your once-betrothed will live and marry and rule from, it’s almost too much to bear.


author: sugardaddytonystark (formerly buckysbackpackbuckle)
pairing: Thor x Jotun!Reader
word count: 4067
warnings: brat prince Thor, unprotected sex, oral sex, hair pulling, choking

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@taylor-tut tHIS IS SO LATE I’M SO SORRY MY FAB FRIENDO! But! It has finally arrived!! I’m sorry if it’s a bit crappy, I like haven’t slept in three days haha

anyhoo, onto the story:


Lance woke up with a sneeze.

He blinked his eyes open, immediately groaning at the light that pierced through his eyeballs and into his temples. He brought an arm up to shield his face, shivering slightly. Taking a deep breath, Lance conducted a mental survey of his condition, assessing his apparently numerous ailments that seem to have manifested overnight.

Congested sinuses that dissolved into a throbbing headache that pulsed outward with each movement? Check. 

Raw, sandpaper throat, and lungs that rattled with every inhale? Check.

The strange sensation of being completely, bone-numbingly cold despite the warmth and clamminess of his limbs? Checkerooni.

Conclusion: Today is gonna suck.

If Lance were to be perfectly honest with himself, he would concede that he had been feeling off these last couple days. Nevertheless, the team needed his 100% right now, and any wooziness he may have felt had to be put on the backburner. With several months having passed without any sign of Shiro, tensions within the castle were palpable.  Keith and Pidge seemed inches away from snapping at any given moment, Allura’s training schedule seemed to have been kicked up the several notches from “very harsh” to “dear god I can taste my own pulse”, and even Hunk and Coran seemed somewhat subdued. It was the least Lance could do to try and keep up, and make sure the other’s stayed optimistic. He was the joker, the sharpshooter - it was his role, no matter how taxing it could be on his own body.

Lance steeled himself, counting down from five, before swinging out of his bed, pausing to lean against the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Once the tilt-a-whirl he usually called a bedroom settled to a soft swaying, Lance began to make his way down to the dining hall.

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Self-Improvement with Astrology -☉Sun
  • The ego, life force, identity, who we are to become, our core energy
  • Ruler of Leo, exalted in Aries, fall in Libra, detriment in Aquarius

Stressful aspects to the sun can indicate issues with the father or the energies of the other planet(s) can be perceived as a threat to the individual’s identity and ego and they can display negative traits of the sign or appear immature. Sun in Libra/7th house or in Aquarius/11th house can have a harder time trying to establish their identity, Libra only having an image of the self in the presence of others and Aquarius finding themselves in groups and society. Aries/1st house and Leo/5th house, being strong placements for the sun, may not have as much difficulty. Aries has no trouble establishing and asserting their identity while Leo could never let anyone forget who they are. However, in understanding where positive aspects help and harsher aspects challenge, astrology can be used as a guide to grow and evolve.

Harmonious, soft aspects = talents, gifts, laziness
(sextiles, trines, conjunctions to benefics) 

Harsh, hard aspects = challenges, blocks, diamonds in the rough
(squares, oppositions, conjunctions to malefics)

Sun/Moon: Soft: Nurturing figure supports identity, emotions align with who they are Hard: the nurturing figure doesn’t hold a consistent presence or influence, what they feel is at odds with who they are

Appreciate the nurturing figures in your life, whether it be your mother or a friend. Understand that receiving emotional support and expressing emotion does not make one weak or lesser of a person. 

Sun/Mercury: The only aspect the sun can make with Mercury is the conjunction (sun and Mercury can only be 28 degrees apart at most). With the conjunction, thoughts and ideas are infused into and define the identity of the individual. If this person feels as though they are not being heard or truly listened to, they can take it as an offense or threat to who they are.

Understand that your voice is important and makes a difference whether or not you are speaking or are being heard directly. Resist the urge to analyze, define, and criticize every aspect of yourself.

Sun/Venus: The only major aspect the sun can make with Venus is the conjunction (max 48 degree distance between both planets). Here all of the qualities of Venus join with the identity of the individual. The individual can be all of the grace and charm typical of Venus, but requires love, affection, and attention to feel validated.

Love yourself and afford yourself the attention you might otherwise (negatively) seek from others. Avoid laziness and use your ability to harmonize to solve issues peacefully rather than ignoring them. 

Sun/Mars: Soft: Easy assertion of the will, their desires and instincts align with who they are and who they strive to become Hard: Identity/Ego is asserted in situations where it may not be necessary, forceful nature and short temper can run roughshod on others

Assess situations before taking action. Know that putting down the sword can be more honorable than fighting to the death. Understand that roadblocks are put in to be driven around, not through (you’ll still reach your destination).

Sun/Jupiter: Soft: Ego is wise, identity easily grows and develops, individual naturally draws positive things to them Hard: Ego inflates like a cheap balloon and is just as fragile, they might get themselves in over their head and get out of trouble just by the skin of their teeth

Appreciate the fortunate nature of your life and every good thing that comes your way. Avoid pushing the limits just to see how far they go. Repay debts and stay in good character regardless of how you know people will treat you.

Sun/Saturn: Soft: Slow and steady growth of ego and formation of identity, although the identity may take a long time to form it is relatively peerless to the individual Hard: Ego tries to form either before it faces necessary lessons or it is met with debilitating situations before it can handle them, individual is constantly held in check

Listen to and acknowledge each lesson Saturn has to teach. Understand that Saturn will ultimately refine you and polish you with the finest grit. If you push, Saturn will push back, so roll with what life brings.

Sun/Uranus: Soft: The identity changes easily and quickly, the ego alters and adjusts in order to adapt and survive Hard: Difficulty handling change, individual may act out in shocking ways or dramatically alter some aspect of themselves, identity shifts suddenly as a result of being denied change by the father figure

Accept and find ways to handle and appreciate change. Understand that it is okay to change and to stand out. Being “unique” is not an uncommon thing. Life is never steady, let Uranus teach you how to maintain your balance.

Sun/Neptune: Soft: Ego is colored, but not defined by, the suffering and dreams of others, identity centers around artistic expression and higher vibrations of love Hard: Life feels too mundane, ego shaped by the issues of others, escapist tendencies, takes on issues they cannot handle

Understand that at the end of the day you have to close your eyes and go to sleep and let other people’s issues be their issues– not yours. Offer what of yourself that you can to help and guide people, but understand your own capabilities and limits.

Sun/Pluto: Soft: Individual transforms as necessary in their life, Ego is powerful and holds immense depth Hard: Ego refuses to change and grow without catastrophic event, individual does not face their deeper issues or is in a constant clash with them

Understand that true transformation comes when the things we refuse to face are looked at straight in the eye. The world is not out to get you and there is a generation of people who can benefit from your insight or learn something from you. Pluto will destroy what’s faulty if something better will be able to be put in its place.

  • ok but a wolfstar university au
  • remus is a english lit student obviously because he’s a nerd
  • sirius is an art history student because he’s secretly an even bigger nerd
  • they’ve never met but both have a lecture on a monday, wednesday and friday in the same lecture theatre two hours apart
  • they both sit in the same seat every lecture
  • sirius never listens in lectures and doodles on the desk, carving drawings in the old wooden tables
  • one week he goes all out, draws an arty nude woman, posing ridiculously, while the lecturer goes on about the baroque movement or some shit he doesnt know
  • he leaves thinking nothing of it, but taking a quick snapchat and sending it to prongs with the caption ‘this is u’
  • he comes back two days later to see someone has critiqued it
  • ‘why is her navel so far down? surely it should be higher?’
  • sirius is taken aback - what kind of fucking nerd would critique someone’s lecture doodles
  • he decides to reply
  • ‘inspected a lot of ladies’ belly buttons, have you?’
  • he smirks to himself and actually takes some notes for once because this art stuff can actually be interesting sometimes, who knew?
  • on friday he returns to his seat to see another reply: ‘probably more than you, judging by your drawing’
  • sirius is hurt
  • he is OFFENDED
  • he has to let whoever this mysterious stranger is know how upset he is
  • he replies ‘fuk u’
  • the weekend passes, and sirius returns to find the word ‘mature’ written in the stranger’s script
  • conversation continues for several more weeks, until the light wood of the desk is practically turned black by the sheer amount of biro covering the surface
  • sirius is suddenly concerned - he had been enjoying conversing with this sarcastic stranger
  • this situation is salvageable
  • he steals one of marlene’s post its and scribbles his next reply on it and fixes it under the desk, then draws a big arrow pointing to the edge of the desk
  • that’ll do
  • he comes back to the next lecture to find a different, bright pink post it stuck in the same place with the words ‘this will get bad for the environment - text me’
  • there’s a number underneath
  • this is probably the least effort sirius has had to go to to get someone’s phone number at university so far, according to marlene
  • the mysterious stranger, who goes by moony, texts sirius infrequently
  • its always in intense short bursts
  • probably when they’re walking to and from classes
  • maybe it’s just when they’re in lectures
  • im not reading into this too much prongs shut up
  • sirius spends the majority of his time walking around campus with his head down, texting moony
  • it was usually smooth sailing, but one day he walks straight into someone else
  • some six foot, scrawny bloke on his phone
  • sirius looks at him and curses
  • fuck, he’s hot
  • he had dropped his phone, and mysterious hot boy had picked it up, and was now seemingly staring at the screen
  • damn, his cheekbones were sharp
  • sirius would like to cut himself on those
  • he wasnt even sure what that meant but he was feeling it
  • “i cant help but notice who youre texting,” hot boy says
  • sirius doesnt think he can speak right now, so he just pulls a face that he hopes conveys all of his confusion
  • it seems to work, because hot boy is giggling
  • actually giggling
  • fuck, hes cute
  • “youre texting me”
  • FUKC
  • moony hands sirius his phone back and laughs
  • “too bad about that lecture bench we destroyed, eh?”
  • long story short they make out a lot
  • its pretty gay
  • no one dies or betrays anyone
  • the end