9 books

5 things you’ll find in my bag: Unused tissues that look grotty from floating around in the bag, like 800 pens, Pepto-Bismol, a glow stick.

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom: My damaged self-worth, weird art on the walls, my tin collection, a crow yelling at me on my windowsill, 9,000 books.

5 things I’ve always wanted to do in life: Travel any-fuckin-where that’s not 100º, make people happy/aware of environmental issues/ love themselves, publish at least one of my many stories or comics, not die yet, have a family or friends.

5 things I’m currently into: Watching wild animals around the world on live cams because wow I saw lions, ok. Lions. Cat toe beans. Color, I love working with color and lighting. Research, I love doing research. Very small rocks.

5 things on my to-do list: Find a doctor who actually gives a sh*t and see if I can get better, finish all my comics and fics, leave this country, make creme brulee, learn another language oh my god why am I so incapable?

5 things people may not know about me: I got my GED when I was 16 so I could go to college early. I’ve can talk to birbs, and have held/pet a dozen different wild birbs over the years after they randomly sat on me. I’m good cook. I can play trumpet. I’ve panned for gold before. [And nearly died.] 


[Idk who to tag, so uh… go for it if you want?]

Books of 2017 (Jan-Feb)

I thought it would be fun to keep a running list of the novels I’ve been reading! I’m on my 22nd novel of the year right now because I’m a freak. I talk about reading so much, and I know some of you have been asking for recommendations. This is as good of a way as any!

Psalm 23 Mysteries (13 Books) by Debbie Viguie 
HIGHLY RECOMMEND: Such a fun series. And she’s writing 23 whole books, so the character development is amazeballs.

  • The Lord is My Shepherd (Book 1)
  • I Shall Not Want (Book 2)
  • Lie Down in Green Pastures (Book 3)
  • Beside Still Waters (Book 4)
  • Restoreth My Soul (Book 5)
  • In the Paths of Righteousness (Book 6)
  • For His Name’s Sake (Book 7)
  • Walk Through the Valley (Book 8)
  • The Shadow of Death (Book 9)
  • I Will Fear No Evil (Book 10)
  • Thou Art With Me (Book 11)
  • Thy Rod and Thy Staff (Book 12)
  • Comfort Me (Book 13) - just came out, and I’m downloading it this week!

Immortal Descendants by April White
HIGHLY RECOMMEND: This is obviously just Book 4, but the whole series is amazing. I loved every second. Really strong female main character, too, which is awesome.

  • Cheating Death (Book 4)

The Hope Chest Series by multiple authors
MEH: I liked the characters (Book 4 is a bit rushed), and the sexy bits were quite sexy, but the time travel element was wasted. Very few answers to lots of questions, and consistency was a problem. This is the series I woke up the husband in the middle of the night to complain about.

  • The Mesmerist (Book 1)
  • The Lawman (Book 2)
  • The Prince (Book 3)
  • The Thief (Book 4)
  • The Pinkerton (Book 5)

Elemental Mysteries by Elizabeth Hunter
HIGHLY RECOMMEND: I love the crap out of this universe. Fresh take on vampires, and that’s a big deal! I’m in Book 4 right now and loving everything. :)

  • A Hidden Fire (Book 1)
  • This Same Earth (Book 2)
  • The Force of Wind (Book 3)
  • A Fall of Water (Book 4)

WORD ARCHON

There are many types of magic in the world. Amongst one of the purest forms of magic is truename magic. Everything in the world has a true name, a word that encapsulates the whole of their being. Ordinary arcane magic relies on a combination of spoken word, magic ingredient and/or mystic gesture. With truename magic, one only has to vocalize, using the true words which make up the fabric of the universe. However, the truename magic is very precise, relying heavily on intonation. Pronouncing a word wrong usually means the words fizzle, but certain higher powers of the multiverse have names which are able to twist back and damage those who use them incorrectly.

Word archons are the heavenly beings tasked with holding up the sanctity of truename magic. Flying on wings of paper, these archons strike down those who pervert true names to fulfil evil purposes. They are especially studious archons and will make sure to know the true name of their hated target so that their magic will land more effectively.

Name magic is something I always found quite fascinating. It’s a fairly common fantasy trope, with magic generally being treated as using the original words of the universe. Knowing an entity’s real name is definitely one that gets used and gets mentioned a lot in occult texts. I think Ursula LeGuin’s Earthsea series is probably one of the better known examples. Voldemort from Harry Potter kinda has a similar thing going on, but that’s less that his name is inherently magic and more that he’s put charms on his own name.

I like to call word archons librariangels.

Shamefully channeling @shenanimation’s style for this. Look at their stuff, it’s neat.

Blanca’s Tumblr

a little part of me kinda hates that i grew up with hp????? idk harry potter feels like something i’ve always known and all my memories of it merge together and i can’t separate my experiences…like i don’t remember how i felt when you found out quirrel was actually the one after the stone not snape and i feel like i’ve always know that sirius was harry’s godfather and just loads of stuff ya know? i just wish i could reread the books for the first time now and really experience the plot and appreciate all the twists and turns and come up with theories and just really take it all in idk

Diana’s Daily Lines - “Go Tell The Bees That I Am Gone” (Book 9)

#DailyLines #GoTELLTheBEESThatIamGONE #BookNine #notyet #notforalongtime #gowatchS2DVDs#dreamofbattle

I was having the delightful sort of dream where you realize that you’re asleep and are enjoying it extremely. I was warm, bonelessly relaxed, and my mind was an exquisite blank. I was just beginning to sink down through this cloudy layer of bliss to the deeper realms of unconsciousness when a violent movement of the mattress under me jerked me into instant alertness.

By reflex, I rolled onto my side and reached for Jamie. I hadn’t reached the stage of conscious thought yet, but my synapses had already drawn their own conclusions. He was still in bed, so we weren’t under attack and the house wasn’t afire. I heard nothing but his rapid breathing; the children were all right and no one had broken in. Ergo…it was his own dream that had wakened him.

This thought penetrated into the conscious part of my mind just as my hand touched his shoulder. He drew back, but not with the violent recoil he usually showed if I touched him too suddenly after a bad dream. He was awake, then; he knew it was me. _Thank God for that_, I thought, and drew a deep breath of my own.

“Jamie?” I said softly. My eyes were dark-adapted already; I could see him, half-curled beside me, tense, facing me.

“Dinna touch me, Sassenach,” he said, just as softly. “Not yet. Let it pass.” He’d gone to bed in a nightshirt; the room was still chilly. But he was naked now. When had he taken it off? And why?

He didn’t move, but his body seemed to flow, the faint glow of the smoored fire shifting on his skin as he relaxed, hair by hair, his breathing slowing.

I relaxed a little, too, in response, though I still watched him warily. It wasn’t a Wentworth dream—he wasn’t sweating; I could almost literally smell fear and blood on him when he woke from those. They came rarely—but were terrible when they did come.

Battlefield? Perhaps; I hoped so. Some of those were worse than others, but he usually came back from a dream of battle fairly quickly, and would let me cradle him in my arms and gentle him back toward sleep. I longed to do it now.

An ember cracked on the hearth behind me, and the tiny spurt of sparks lit his face for an instant, surprising me. He looked…peaceful, his eyes dark-wide and fixed on something he could still see.

“What is it?” I whispered, after a few moments. “What do you see, Jamie?”

He shook his head slowly, eyes still fixed. Very slowly, though, the focus came back into them, and he saw me. He sighed once, deeply, and his shoulders went loose. He reached for me and I all but lunged into his arms, holding him tight.

“It’s all right, Sassenach,” he said into my hair. “I’m not… It’s all right.”

His voice sounded odd, almost puzzled. But he meant it; he was all right. He rubbed my back gently, between the shoulder blades and I gulped a little. He was very warm, despite the chill, and the clinical part of my mind checked him quickly—no shivering, no flinching…his breathing was quite normal and so was his heart-rate, easily perceptible against my breast.

“Do you…_can_ you tell me about it?” I said, after a bit. Sometimes he could, and it seemed to help. More often, he couldn’t, and would just shake until the dream let go its grip on his mind and let him turn away.

“I don’t know,” he said, the note of surprise still in his voice. “I mean—it was Culloden, but…it was different.”

“How?” I asked warily. I knew from what he’d told me that he remembered only bits and pieces of the battle, single vivid images. I’d never encouraged him to try to remember more, but I _had_ noticed that such dreams came more frequently, the closer we came to any looming conflict. “Did you see Murtagh?”

“Aye, I did.” The tone of surprise in his voice deepened, and his hand stilled on my back. “He was with me, by me. But I could see his face; it shone like the sun.”

This description of his late godfather was more than peculiar; Murtagh had been one of the more dour specimens of Scottish manhood ever produced in the Highlands.


“He was…happy?” I ventured doubtfully. I couldn’t imagine anyone who’d set foot on Culloden moor that day had cracked so much as a smile—likely not even the Duke of Cumberland.

“Oh, more than happy, Sassenach—filled wi’ joy.” He let go of me then, and glanced down into my face. “We all were.”

“All of you—who else was there?” My concern for him had mostly subsided now, replaced by curiosity.

“I dinna ken, quite…there was Alex Kincaid, and Ronnie…”

“Ronnie MacNab?” I blurted, astonished.

“Aye,” he said, scarcely noticing my interruption. His brows were drawn inward in concentration, and there was still something of an odd radiance about his own face. “My father was there, too, and my grand-sire—“ He laughed aloud at that, surprised afresh. “I canna imagine why _he’d_ be there—but there he was, plain as day, standing by the field, glowering at the goings-on, but lit up like a turnip on Samhain, nonetheless.”

I didn’t want to point out to him that everyone he’d mentioned so far was dead. Many of them hadn’t even been on the field that day—Alex Kincaid had died at Prestonpans, and Ronnie MacNab… I glanced involuntarily at the fire, glowing on the new black slate of the hearthstone. But Jamie was still looking into the depths of his dream.

“Ken, when ye fight, mostly it’s just hard work. Ye get tired. Your sword’s so heavy ye think ye canna lift it one more time—but ye do, of course.” He stretched, flexing his left arm and turning it, watching the play of light over the sun-bleached hairs and deep-cut muscle. “It’s hot—or it’s freezing—and either way, ye just want to go be somewhere else. Ye’re scairt or ye’re too busy to be scairt until it’s over, and then ye shake because of what ye’ve just been doing….” He shook his head hard at this, dislodging the thoughts.

“Not this time. “

Send me a number and I’ll say what I prefer!

1. Fancy or casual?
2. Closet or dresser?
3. Hot or cold?
4. Meat or veggies?
5. 1 pillow or multiple?
6. 1 blanket or multiple?
7. Organized or messy?
8. Games or books?
9. Hide and watch or stand up and fight?
10. Shy or social?
11. Soda or juice?
12. Handheld or console?
13. Light or dark?
14. Scary or Happy?
15. Movies or restaurant?
16. Car or bus?
17. Carpet or tile?
18. Love or wealth?
19. Markers or colored pencils?
20. Independent or dependent?
21. Hat or necklace?
22. Poster or calendar?
23. Pain or death?
24. Science or math?
25. Shower or bath?
26. Socks or slippers?
27. Chips or crisps?
28. Secretive or open?
29. Friendship or romance?
30. Talent or skill?

2

BOOKS MEME | (6/9) nine otps.
Neil Josten and Andrew Minyard from All for the Game by Nora Sakavic.

Andrew kissed him like this was a fight with their lives on the line, like his world stopped and started with Neil’s mouth. Neil’s heart stuttered to a stop at the first hard press of lips against his and he reached up without thinking. His hand made it as far as Andrew’s jaw before he remembered Andrew didn’t like to be touched. Neil caught hold of Andrew’s coat sleeve instead and knotted his fingers in the heavy wool.
The touch was a trigger. Andrew leaned back just enough to say, “Tell me no.
Neil’s lips were sore; his skin was buzzing. He felt winded, like he’d survived a half-marathon. He felt strong, like he could run another five more.

9

[16/?] Favourite Male Characters → Takashi Natsume (Natsume Yuujinchou)

Happy Birthday, Natsume!! (ノ◠ヮ◠)ノ*:・゚✧ ~1 July~