and remind me that i need to start writing again

anonymous asked:

Collect our emails. 5 years from now I will have a job and kids and I will need a reminder to get my sh*t together and start writing again. Please send me that reminder 5 years from now.

I know sending emails in bulk is very expensive. Most e-mails you receive are probably from people that want you to buy something. 

If this post gets 500 likes I will look into it, amigo

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Twelve

Summary: You fly out for Asylum and meet up with the rest of the cast, only to find out that you have to do your first ever solo panel in front of two thousand fans
Words: 4.4k (+ tweets)
Jared x Reader x Gen, Misha, Kim, Briana, Danneel, Jensen, JJ
Warnings: smut-ish phone calls, mild angst, fluff
Beta: @blacksiren

IKYW Masterpost

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

Your name: submit What is this?

In-flight wifi was a God sent gift on the flight to London.

Despite appearing calm and feeling tired, you couldn’t get to sleep for the first few hours due to anxious energy.

Keep reading

Deaf!Dean Drabble 3

Thanks to @wanderingcas for all the help with this one! *blows a kiss*

Dean’s been in a mood all week. It started when a pop-up ad showed up on Sam’s laptop for the new Star Wars trailer. Dean and Cas had talked about going to see it together. But that was five months ago. Before the accident.

Despite the fact that he said he was fine, Cas could see the way that Dean was getting more and more upset as the week went on.

First Dean forgot to text, and instead dialed with the phone to his ear before he remembered–he sent everyone in his contact list a very inappropriate word.

Later in the week, when he’d walked up behind Dean and startled him, he’d pulled a gun on Cas.

And, when Cas finally suggests they go out to eat with Eileen and Sam, Dean actually sits down in a chair and sulks.

They were all little things. But, Cas knows that they are also big things to Dean.

Cas sighs, sitting down next to his husband, trying to find the words to say, the things to do to fix this. He knows Dean is hurting. And, he knows he is asking a lot for him to go out in public. Because, even if Dean doesn’t admit it, he gets easily embarrassed.

Cas pulls over one of the many notebooks they keep the bunker stocked with.

We don’t have to go, he writes. I just wanted to suggest something to help.

He puts the pen down and reaches over to grab Dean’s hand, but is met with air when it’s pulled away. His hand freezes, hurt painting his expression.

Dean grabs the pen, and writes forcefully: Do whatever the hell you want.

He stands, knocking over a chair in the process but doesn’t bother to fix it as he walks to his room.

Cas follows, vaguely aware of the fact that Sam and Eileen are in pursuit. He stops in Dean’s doorway, only to find Dean throwing a led Zeppelin tape onto the bed with a crestfallen look, headphones tumbling off to the side.

Cas’s chest hurt. It always hurts when Dean forgets.

Cas can see Eileen staring at him from the corner of his eye. It’s not the first time Dean’s gotten upset like this. Cas and Sam don’t have the heart to say very much. Usually Eileen doesn’t either. But, the second Cas’s eyes connect with Eileen’s, he can tell she has a lot she wants to say right now.

Suddenly, Cas feels a small hand press against his chest, nudging him back into the hallway.

Ok, out, she signs to Cas. I need to talk to Dean alone.

Cas’s mouth falls open a little in protest, but he’s met with a door shut in his face. He stares at it, eyes wide, completely taken by surprise.

Now Cas stares at the door to Dean’s room wondering what they’re saying on the other side of it.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Cas asks Sam.

Sam shrugs. “Boys?” he says with a mischievous grin.

Cas bites back a smile, sitting on the ground with his back to the wall, waiting for the door to open. He fiddles with his wedding ring, thinking about the man he married, feeling his heart expand.

He wonders if Dean feels things have changed between them since the accident. He wonders if he’ll know how to help and be there for him now. And, sometimes, deep down and secretly, he has fears about losing Dean.

Cas twists his wedding ring harder, watching the skin on his finger pull a little with the friction.

I love you now. I love you forever—he recites the secret vows they said to each other on their wedding night since Dean didn’t want to say them in front of any of the other hunters that showed up to the ceremony.

I love you now. I love you forever, he thinks to the door.

Sam sits next to him, sending Cas a comforting look while they wait.

“It will be ok,” Sam says in sign language, comfortingly. Cas smiles at how much better Sam is at signing than Dean—His sweet, grumpy, beautiful, deaf husband who gets frustrated because he’s still in the re-learning stages of communication.

And Cas tries to mean it when he says “I know.”

The door opens and Eileen has a smug look on her face as Dean lets her shove his arms into a jacket.

“Let’s go,” she says to Sam and they walk to the car, Cas and Dean trailing after.

Before they go out to the garage, though, Dean grabs Cas’s hand, pulling him back to a stop, then kisses him lightly on the lips.

Cas furrows his eyebrows, grabbing a notebook and writes: What exactly did Eileen say to you?

Dean puts his hands in the air, then looks up at the ceiling as if trying to find the words to sign, then sighs, grabbing the notebook from Cas.

She called me an idiot, He writes. Said I needed to get my ass into gear and stop feeling sorry for myself.

Cas’s eyes widen in amusement before Dean starts writing again:

But then she told me you all loved me. Said it’s ok to be upset, but I shouldn’t stop living my life. And, Dean’s hands freeze for a second, a little emotion showing on his face before he finishes with: she reminded me of how lucky I am to have you.

Outside, the horn on the impala honks impatiently for Cas’s sake, but he ignores it.

Dean shuffles his foot against the floor sheepishly, before looking up again.

I am he writes, then pauses. I’m lucky to have you.

Cas smiles.

Me too, he signs to Dean, feeling relief flood through him.

They stare at each other until the horn goes off again, bringing Cas back to the present.

He leans forward and can see Eileen from the back seat of the impala, smiling in encouragement.

Cas tugs at Dean’s notebook, then writes: Want to go get some food?

Dean nods enthusiastically. Hell yeah, he writes. I’m starving.

* * *

If you want to read my other Deaf!dean fics, the masterlist is Here (x)

not me without you

Lukas gets the emergency text and hardly remembers to pick up his bag before he’s racing out of the classroom. This is Philip’s off day, which usually means Lukas leaves their apartment in the morning while Philip is still sleeping. Philip will get up a couple hours later and go to the campus library to study, and when Lukas is done with his classes they’ll get lunch and ride home together.

So of course, on today of all fucking days, there’s a fire in the goddamn library.

Keep reading

“why does he think he can act like that?”

we’re drunk again and i’m digging my nails into my palms. she’s making this about you because i’ve made this about you time and time again. i’ve analyzed your behavior until your entire personality profile is lying in my lap like a horoscope. i’ve told people you are misunderstood and they need me to understand you. i get you. i’ve always gotten you. but you don’t get me. you never did.

do i even get me, though? do any of my thoughts or actions even make sense? i expect people to take my feelings seriously but i don’t even think about why i’m feeling them and why i don’t need to anymore. i’m checking your star sign but barely know what it says in my own. i go home and write another poem that starts and ends with your name. and this is the point of the night where i realize i know you better than i know myself. and this is the point of the night where i realize i’m tired of it.

i’ve always made this your story. i’ve always been there to remind everyone of what you did to me. but i never tell the story of how i started sleeping again. how i started eating again. how i stopped smoking every day. how i finished school and counteracted loneliness with myself. how i have a life outside of you. and i’m tired of telling your story. i’m tired of being a supporting character in the story of  your life. because this is my life and you are just a supporting character in mine.

so i’m done telling people you’re toxic out of anger. i’m done being your warning label and pretending there was never a good reason why i was with you. so this isn’t a story about how you’re the villain anymore - it’s a story about how you turned me into a hero. this is my story and in my story, you breathed out ice but who cares about the ice when i counteracted it with fire.

so instead of, “why does he think he can act like that?” i’m asking myself, “what can i do to ensure that i’m not bothered?”

i laugh it off. i let him live his life however he wants to because his actions don’t affect mine anymore. he’s not my responsibility but my own feelings are. because in every version of this story, my story, i come out stronger and he comes out smaller.

i was in a really shitty headspace yesterday and the outpouring of support i had from you guys was just… incredible.  like, i am so, so, so thankful to have become part of such a wonderful community.  thank you thank you thank you

anyway i cleared my head this morning and got to finishing this.  i hope you guys die over the mutual pining as much as i did.

title: you’re hot in a world that’s cold, pt. 4 (jeté)
   ( 01, 02, 03 )
fandom: hamilcast(???), basically lmao
pairing: rafael casal x reader
rating: i don’t think there’s even a single swear in this one??  holy heck.  t for lame cheesy flirting and too much fluff and painful pining
word count: 2602
tagged: @tailored-shirt-tails @nervous-crossbow @ordinaryornate​ @haletotheking24 @butlinislin @goodhamiltonaesthetic @notalwaysfair @christophercwoods @my-body-is-not-a-temple @jugjcnes​ @overcaffeinated-and-underslept

After a bad knee injury and surgery, you’ve been forced to take a break from ballet.  You decide to take some classes at NYU Tisch in the meanwhile, where Rafael Casal is guest teaching, and the two of you tiptoe the blurred student-teacher boundary.

Keep reading

I have a notebook full of letters to you,
and I dont know if I should
keep them so one day I can see how far I’ve come
to burn them so I never have to remember our story

I’ll keep them deep under ground for now

Yesterday I read a poem about a girl in love,
and yesterday I read the notes you had left behind
I drank in the pain,
because it reminds me of you
and today its all I need if I can’t have you

so tonight I’ll be drunk on the same feeling you used to give to me,


you start to feel like living is worth it again,
but you don’t believe it
belonging in your own skin has become alien,
and you’ll reget it long before you accept it

they say one day you’ll learn again, but that still seems impossible

Finding True North In My Heart

For the past four months, I’ve kind of felt like I have been sleepwalking through my life. I came to the realization that the 28 years prior to where I am now was like an out of body experience. The time I was graced with having Sue in my life seems like it happened to another person.  And that person was made whole by the delicate nuances of love and worth, feelings that gave me a sweet essence to my life. I used to know that person, and the one before I met Sue, who experienced and endured and survived so many levels of personal tragedies— of drug addiction and sexual abuse as a child, of losing both my parents when I was eighteen; all this withered my heart and left me wanting some answers. I was drifting away from myself and from the idea of a happy ending.

Susan caught me before I could fall out of reach. She helped me back up on my feet and kept me there with the strength of patience and acceptance. She was strong arms around me, a sheltering embrace, protecting me against all that is harsh and hurtful. She was protecting me from myself. She showed me another direction, and that I didn’t have to go that way alone.

These were tools I was developing. My time was coming. I was able to hold her up as well. All the things I could not believe in before I met her, when I shut my eyes to the possibility that there was more to life than suffering, she landed in my life with a warm spirit and gave me one believe right away—she made me believe in angels.

When she got sick; a disease that methodically chipped away her physical and mental life—taking care of her was another side of life that few have the privilege to be a part of; outside of the medical and caretaking business. It was an unconditional love that transcended me, that made me a stronger and more capable human being I wouldn’t have become otherwise.

Sue’s pain and suffering was a silent life for her. Even to me. I tried so hard to empathize, to try walking in her shoes. She described her MS to me as having a fifty-pound block of cement chained to each of her legs. I would have carried that weight for her if it was physically possible. MS is neurological, erasing the myelin that protects the nerves in her extremities. It exposes her to numbness and uncontrollable spasms in her legs. It took away her ability to walk, to think—even to laugh. It left her completely helpless and dependent. I could empathize all I wanted—I just could not imagine living with that kind of quality of life. But in a way, I did live it.  Her life was infinitely linked to mine. We never took anything for granted.  In the end, over the last couple months of her life, Sue became a prisoner in her own body. There were terrible falls causing broken bones, loss of bodily functions—a whole list of maladies that made both of us battle fatigued.

And then early one morning in February, she had reached her tolerance level and made the decision to end her life. I was not part of that decision making equation. It will always be ironic to me that she snuffed out the beautiful soul she was by taking an overdose of the medicine (morphine) that was supposed to keep her pain manageable.  I won’t debate whether her decision was right or wrong. But I know now it was the kind of answer I couldn’t and wouldn’t give her.

Someone told me soon after she was gone that her suffering is over and she had found the peace that was taken from her. I almost punched this person for that audacity. But I was really more mad at myself because maybe I was thinking the same thing. I just wasn’t brave enough to admit it to myself and say it out loud.

I have mentioned in the past that the comfort I found in writing Olicity fanfiction after Sue’s passing has been a godsend. The support and appreciation for my writings felt like I was given permission to express my grief and loss through artistic expression. I think Sue would have approved and encouraged me.

I have decided that I am going to take a break from the Olicity stories. They were fun to write, but that isn’t the story I need to tell. I need to tell my story. I need to tell Sue’s story. If my life has to go forward without my soulmate, then I need to exact the changes to insure it happens.

Next week, I am heading up north to the Brooks Range in Alaska, where I hope to find the courage to write our story. And maybe find that person again that Sue helped me to blossom into. I will be gone for the whole summer, and I know the rugged beauty up there will inspire me (I am taking lots and lots of notebooks with me) to start a manuscript. The raw beauty of Alaska will surround me. It will remind me of what life has to offer—if one knows where to look.

God bless everyone who took the time to read my meandering words these past months. I am truly grateful. Love can move mountains, and I plan on climbing some up north. I’ve already scaled those heights with my life partner. But it will be nice to look down on the world from her lofty and divine perspective.

@hope-for-olicity @louiseblue1 @almondblossomme @tdgal1 @jbuffyangel @mortallock @flowerandsunshine @scu11y22 @dmichellewrites @it-was-a-red-heeler @bandanab310 @cruzrogue @ruwithmeguys @emmaamelia95 @jamyjan @jaspertown @lovelycssefan @memcjo @mammashof @omglovechrissie @vaelisamaza @wanhani @wherethereissmoak

The Story of Tonight- Alexander X Reader

Request from @justapieceofsimstrash : Maybe a Alexander imagine? Being best friends and both of you like each other but neither of them know the other likes them back? :D

A/N: i apologize for how long this took but i am a bit sick so I’ve been procrastinating. sorry for how long this turned out and i don’t know how i feel about it??

I scrunched my nose up while looking at the book I was reading. I was nearly finished with it but I didn’t want it to end. I hate endings, especially to good books because once you close the book after reading it for the first time, you don’t ever get to experience it again.

I heard footsteps and I looked up, surprised to see Alex.

“Do I even want to know how you got in?” I asked him and he laughed a bit.

“You left the door open.”

“Remind me to lock it. Any special reason why you decided to pay me a visit?” I smiled, trying not to sound too excited that he had perhaps visited me just for my company.

“Yes. You’re a decently fast reader and I wanted you to look over something I was planning on handing in.”

“Sure. Just so I know what I’m getting myself into, how many pages of what topic?”

“Fifteen on the American Revolution.”

“How many pages did you have to write?”


“Naturally. At least you’re only ten pages over the requirement this time.” I teased him.

“That was one time! I wrote a fifty page essay one time!” He defended himself and I started laughing.

“God I remember that Professor Washington got so angry when you turned that into him. He looked like he was going to murder you.” I reminded him. He took his glasses off and set them down on my coffee table.

“Hey, I have a stupid question for you.”


“Do you know Eliza Schuyler?”

“Of course. Everyone knows who the Schuyler sisters are.” I rolled my eyes at him and he smiled and shook his head. There was an uncomfortable silence between us. “Why? Do you like her?” I asked him. I was met with more silence and I felt my heart slowly sinking. Alexander Hamilton was speechless and that never happened.

“No. I was just… wondering.”

“I should start reading these. I’m gonna try and finish my book tonight.” I smiled and he nodded.

“You haven’t finished it yet?”

“I’ve been trying to make it go as slow as possible. I don’t want it to end.”

“Can I read that book sometime? Only good books do that.” He noted and I looked at him, smiling a bit.

“Yeah. My doors always open.”

“Oh yes, thank you for the reminder. You need to lock your doors.” He stood up with a smirk on his face and he left, closing the door behind him. I stood up and I locked the door before making my way back over to my book. I picked it up and started reading again before a thought struck me.

Professor Washington didn’t assign us a writing in class, so what the hell was Alexander having me read? Maybe he was just writing this for fun but it wouldn’t make sense why he would ask for me to read it over then.

Reluctantly, I put my book down and I picked the paper up. I was about two pages in when I realized I was reading it still. I had no reason to read it, other then he had asked me to. He had asked me to drop everything and look over something and I did. There was something about the way he wrote and how he commanded every single word to his advantage, like he was a general of the thousands upon thousands of words that he wrote.

He was possibly my favorite writer.

I don’t know what he thinks can come from me reading his writing when it’s already some of the best I’ve ever seen. There’s nothing that needs to be looked over but for some reason he just kept coming to my apartment whenever he needed me to read something.

Fifteen pages went by faster than life and I set the papers down, looking at them. I heard a knock at my door and I jumped up to get it and unlocked it before opening it.

“The one time you remember to lock your door is the one time I forget my glasses here.” Alex said sheepishly.

“You can take the papers with as well. I read them.” I told him and he looked at me, impressed.


“Amazing as usual.”

“That means a lot coming from you.”

“I know good writing when I see it and you are amazing at it.”

Another pause.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Eliza is single.”

“Are you?” He asked and I looked at him strangely.


“That’s what I said, yes.” He confirmed and looked at me expectantly.

“I… yes I am, why?”

“Eliza said you weren’t.”

“Eliza is wrong.”

“Good. I wanted to know if you want to go on a date then. Right now.”

“I’m tempted to go but I have an unfinished book waiting for me.”

“Your book has an ending. Right now, this is the story of tonight and we are just starting. Your book can wait.”

“I’m taking it with me.”

“Fair enough. I would do the same. Now what are we waiting for?”

“One second. Why did you give me these to read in the first place?” I asked, pointing to the papers. He smiled.

“Because I needed an excuse to come talk to you, didn’t I?”

anonymous asked:

I need help! I put the manga on pause a while ago, because I hate waiting and would rather binge, but then actively started avoiding it because I saw the Erwin spoiler, but the new season of the anime got me excited again, so I decided to catch up and I regret my desicion! I can't stop crying!

just take a break from the manga for a while. give yourself time to process and understand that erwin is gone just as you would with other person you would grieve, and then come back when you’re ready.

there’s really nothing you can do about regretting reading the manga; it would have happened in the anime eventually and that would have been just putting all this off, but that’s not the point. the point is that you did read the manga and now you need some time to just recover. 


“You think I haven’t tried telling him?” she said. “He never listens to me.”

“Well, you’re going to fucking start,” Wymack said, turning to Neil again. “Seeing how she seems to have gotten all of your common fucking sense.”

Neil flinched, an instinct too inherent to their lives to ever be fully trampled down. Wymack froze into place, but Neil’s eyes immediately found Magdalena’s instead, a touch of terror behind those fake brown irises. He needed an anchor, a reminder that they were not living their worst nightmares again.

But Magdalena was too riled up to play pitying at that moment, so she just stared back at him. Daring him. Go on. Do as your coach says and listen to your sister.

Wisdom like a sister: Chapter 5

Defending (2) - Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Originally posted by lamoissondejuillet

Words: 1408
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader
Featuring: Thor Odinson, The Warriors Three and Lady Sif, Tony Stark, Clint Barton
Warnings: fighting?, capture
Requested by @sexymackstan
omg thank you!! PART 2 TO LOKI! So you, thor and the others end up fighting Thanos. You believed that love was strong, with Loki being a changed man you knew it was possible. He ruled Asgard alongside with Thor, when you end up getting kidnapped by a new evil, Loki and your new brother in law Thor, set out to find you. Loki breaks all the rules to find you, but one man who knew where you could be, he seeks out help from the rest of the Avengers.
Author’s Note: Loki is so much fun to write for ahhhhhh! Also, if yore like “hey why is this being posted late/ why is there two up today” please check this out! (I mean, if anyone happens to be curious, haha!)

One Two Three


“You sure you’re ready for this?” You looked to Thor. He just laughed at you.

“I am a god.”

“And I’m dating a god.” You smirked back, causing Thor to smile.

“Come on, we need to get going, now.” Sif interrupted your conversation.

“Remind me, why did we think this was a good idea again?” Thor laughed as the portal started to open.

You glanced, hinting a duh look at Thor. “He’s threatening Loki again. And, he said he’s got something coming for that loved one of yours.” You told him, for what seemed the one-hundredth time. “And we don’t want anyone of us to be hurt, do we?”

Thor sighed. “I guess not.”

You, Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three headed into the portal, taking you to Thanos’ land. It was just the six of you and Loki had no idea, he would have never let you go.

You arrived in a different land, and Thanos already had people fighting you. It was going to take a while to take him out, but he was going to be taken down.

Everyone had separated off as there were so many defenders, and yet, somehow, you managed to lose track of enemies, and start to make your way to find Thanos.

As you were looking around quietly, you ended up being scared half to death.

“(Y/N).” The deep voice of Thanos called, and you turned around to see him sitting in a big chair, looking over you. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here this early, and all alone. It’s like you’re asking for death.” He smiled.

Keep reading

Filler text to be replaced with actual material. Replace with copy before sending to radio station.

Talking points go here.

Something about coffee. Something about the bright start of a hypothetical day. Something about secret boxes locked in secret soundproof rooms.

Maybe make it a song. Look into that.

Then, slogan goes here.


Copy and paste slogan again here.

Also, just reminding the future me that comes back to rewrite this that I need to grab some milk. I think the one in the office fridge is starting to turn.

As long as I’m reminding myself things, I’m a good person, worthy of love – both from myself and others. And writing press releases and ads like this is just the start of a great writing career.

You have a novel in you, kid! You have a novel in you!


Welcome to Night Vale

Episode 39 - The Woman from Italy

i started writing poetry again.  it’s always been weirdly relaxing.  idk why i avoid it as often as i do. well, probably bc poetry always reminds me of elaborate metaphors that make no sense ultimately. not my style. if something needs to be said, it should be clear imo. metaphors are great up to the point where i need to know the author’s entire life story, maiden name, blood type, & what happened to them after dying to understand one line

And now, a word from our sponsors.
Filler text to be replaced with actual material. Replace with copy before sending to radio station.
Talking points go here.
* Something about coffee
* Something about the bright start of a hypothetical day
* Something about secret boxes locked in secret soundproof rooms
Maybe make it a song. Look into that.
Then, slogan goes here.
Copy and paste slogan again here.
Also, just reminding the future me that comes back to rewrite this that I need to grab some milk. I think the one in the office fridge is starting to turn.
As long as I’m reminding myself things, I’m a good person, worthy of love – both from myself and others. And writing press releases and ads like this is just the start of a great writing career.
You have a novel in you, kid! You have a novel in you!
This has been a word from our sponsors.
—  The Woman from Italy
Top 12: A Runner's Advice for Writers

I’m currently in the process of two seemingly impossible tasks: I’m training for the New York Marathon (which I ran some 16 years ago), and I’m writing the second installment of my YA trilogy The Outliers (Book One comes out next year!). I’ve got sore fingers (from typing) and sore toes (from running) and there are times I want to throw my sneakers and laptop out the window.

But this weekend, as I was training, I was reminded once again how so many of the lessons I have learned from long-distance running are directly applicable to novel writing. I am not the first person to make this observation–fabulous books have been written on the subject. Nonetheless, here’s my version because I need the reminder.

So here goes:

1. Ignore people who do things differently than you. I was the only person sitting in the holding area for the hour we had to wait before the race started. Made perfect sense to me. Why tire your legs? But I did get a lot of looks. Still, it was 100% right for me and wrong apparently for everybody else. Same with writing–outline, don’t outline, listen to music, require utter silence. Wear a stupid hat. Do whatever you need to do to get the job done. It does not matter what anyone else does or what they think.

2. Don’t worry about mile 13 when you are at mile one. It’s just not helpful. Listen to the ever-so-wise Anne Lamott: Bird-By-Bird folks. It’s the only way to go.

3. The beginning will SUCK.

4. The middle will SUCK WORSE. This has no bearing on how the end will turn out.

5. Ignore people for whom it seems to come easier. Celebrate their victory. Or, if you are unable to do so, blame their longer legs, their better shoes, their years of tutelage. Baring that, convince yourself that—deep down—they are crying inside.

6. If a stranger offers you a high five en route TAKE IT. Even if it is not meant for you and they try to dodge you. You NEED all the encouragement you can get. Even that which must be taken by force.

7. Do NOT stop halfway. Do NOT stop when you are almost there. You can slow down if you need to, catch your breath. I know, I know, just a little rest is all you need that little voice in your head is saying. Trust me, that is not your voice you’re hearing, it’s the devil’s. And you have one option: RUN LIKE HELL.

8. Do not step on all those little power gel packets by the nutrition station–they will make your shoes sticky for the rest of the race. This has nothing to do with writing, but it’s true. And it’s disgusting.

9. Bribe yourself—to run one more mile, write one more sentence, work one more hour. Coffee, jelly-beans, extra TV, sleep—illicit things work well to, but I’ll leave those for you all to sort out. Bottom line: make all sorts of promises about how you will reward yourself when it is all over—then just be sure to keep them. You need to believe yourself the next time around.

10. Make sure you have someone waiting there at the end. Thinking about reaching them really is the best cure when things get seriously dark. And when you do finally get there, you’re going to need them to prop you up.

11. You will cry. At the beginning probably. Definitely near the end. Don’t panic. This is totally normal.

12. Hold tight to even the tinniest of victories. No matter what anyone else says, no matter what the future holds –those will forever be yours to keep.

Today, when I sit down to continue this manuscript, I know that the going may get tough once more. But today, I will have a secret weapon: the knowledge that I know exactly what to do if it all starts to fall apart. Run Like Hell.

Take a Breath and Calm Down (Liam/Zayn)

Take a Breath and Calm Down
rated t; ~5k words

There’s no forgetting how even after almost five years, this level of codependency they’ve reached is unchangeable. But that logical, sensible part of her’s that’s trying to convince her that Zayn would never actually leaver her, would never leave them, has been consumed recently. It’s hard to pay attention to her brain when it feels like her lungs have been taking away. Logic means nothing when what she really needs is to remind herself how to breathe on her own again. 
Or in which Liam finally lets herself cry.

UH OKAY. This started off with the thought, “I wonder if girl!Zayn would have shaved her head if she was in the same position as real Zayn”, and then turned into 5k of me projecting my post-Zayn feelings onto girl!Liam OOPS. This was (unsurprisingly) very hard for me to write at points and I have no idea how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy it!

Endless thanks to soofyahn and heartdidwhisper for their help and as always to multishippinfool for being an awesome beta!

And now, a word from our sponsors.

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Replace with copy before sending to radio station.
Talking points go here. Something about coffee. Something about the bright start of a hypothetical day.
Something about secret boxes locked in secret soundproof rooms. Maybe make it a song, look into that.

Then, slogan goes here. Starbucks! Copy and paste slogan again here.

Also just reminding the future me that comes back to rewrite this.. that I need to grab some milk. I think the one in the office fridge is starting to turn. As long as I’m reminding myself things: I’m a good person, worthy of love, both from myself and others! And writing press releases and ads like this is just the start of a great writing career! You have a novel in you, kid! You have a novel in you.

This has been a… word from our sponsors.

—  episode 39, “The Woman from Italy" 
And now, a word from our sponsors.

Filler text to be replaced with actual material. Replace with copy before sending to radio station.

Talking points go here.

  • Something about coffee
  • Something about the bright start of a hypothetical day
  • Something about secret boxes locked in secret soundproof rooms

Maybe make it a song. Look into that.

Then, slogan goes here.


Copy and paste slogan again here.

Also, just reminding the future me that comes back to rewrite this that I need to grab some milk. I think the one in the office fridge is starting to turn.

As long as I’m reminding myself things, I’m a good person, worthy of love – both from myself and others. And writing press releases and ads like this is just the start of a great writing career.

You have a novel in you, kid! You have a novel in you!

This has been a word from our sponsors.

Admin Message: Temporary Semi-Hiatus

Hello everyone, New Admin here!

I’m the one who took over running this blog back in September when Original Admin got too busy and I’ve been doing so ever since. However I’m heading into my final two weeks of the fall semester at school, meaning I have several papers and other assignments due, and final exams are upon me.

I truly enjoy writing up reminders for you all and I love seeing how much they mean to everyone, but I need to take a break from tumblr and focus on my studies right now. I’ll still try to make reminders on those days that I’m not as busy, but the frequency of them will likely drop for the coming two weeks (meaning there won’t be one every day).

Things will pick back up again starting on December 13th once my exams are all over.

Also, reminder that everyone is most welcome to submit their own reminders via fanmail at any time! We love getting your feedback and your messages of encouragement to fellow Hetalians, and I’d be happy to queue them up for you!

Thank you for understanding, have a lovely day!