ask-jenn

barneswilson  asked:

footprints, glass, fury

Send me three words and I'll write you a poem (x)

Look at you, the prodigal son–
you with the star-studded eyes,
you with the mountain range spine,
you with the sun on your lips
     and moonlight in your skin,
     and terra firma at your feet. 

You are the world, the universe, the cosmos,
     son of the galaxy, heir of the planets,
     God’s chosen child.

Your touch burns like sunlight on Icarus’s wings. 
I am burning at the stake.
I am melting like snow in April.
I am vanishing like raindrop puddles in the desert.

I am dying under your touch,
     your toxic fingers,
     your corrosive skin,
oh, but I am addicted to the aftertaste of your skin on mine.
I am addicted to the whisper of your caress,
and if this is the way I die–
I choose this. I choose you.
I must die anyway. 

Darling, I am not like you. 

You leave footprints in the bedrock,
brand the Earth with your trail, your path–
mountains collapse under your feet.

I leave memories like fingerprints on glass
smudged,
     invisible,
          unwanted, 
to be wiped away with a breath and one fatal swipe.

I am ephemeral,
a passing thought,
a flickering candleflame,
and even your fury cannot bind me to this earth.

Even your breath cannot give me life–
that, my love, already belongs to Death, I’m afraid.
Even your kisses cannot start my heart–
that, my love, stopped bleeding long ago, I’m afraid.

Please don’t look so sad. 
Gods were never meant to fall in love with fallen men,
     with boys who play with fire and singed skin.
You’ll forget me someday, I know–
it’s nothing tragic, it’s just the way love stories go–
but until that day, my love,
remember me in the whisper of a breeze,
     in the afterimage of an eclipse,
     in the shadows of a falling star. 

Remember me when I am gone–
my smudged-glass kisses, my death-kissed touch,
my sun-cursed hellfire plummet in your arms–
Remember me when I am gone.

That’s all I ask, my God-favoured love.

Writing Tips from Jenn

I was recently asked to give advice on writing, as well as suggest how to become a dedicated blogger. I love talking about writing and I love writing about writing, so obviously I obliged. And maybe there will be something in here that helps you as you progress in your writing journey – whether you write for fun or for a salary, here are a few things that I have learned about writing in general and writing, specifically, for a blog (that I now refer to as a website because other people write for me). Bear in mind that I don’t claim to be an expert on any of these things. I do have a Creative Writing degree so I’ll implement some knowledge that has been passed onto me by my favorite professors throughout the years, and I currently write as a profession for a non-profit, so I’ll also give you a bit of insight that I’ve learned in my short time there as well.

Okay, writing tips. Let’s see:

1) Write even when you don’t feel like it. I’m so guilty of NOT doing this, you have no idea. As a writer, often times, the only time we write is when we feel inspired by something or someone. We can easily knock out 3,000 words about the How I Met Your Mother series finale because it angered us, but it’s much harder to be intentional about writing when you’re not angry or enthralled or feeling any other strong emotional response. Which brings us to…

2) Make writing habitual. So in order to become a stronger writer and a better one, you need to make writing a habit, even if what you write isn’t very good at all. When I was participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), I remember reading a lot of tips on how to write a good novel. One of the pieces of advice that stuck with me was about writing something every day in your novel, even if it’s not good. My default response as an editor is to want to make everything perfect the first time around. I don’t mind revising drafts, but sometimes I trip over myself – I think I need to have the perfect word of phrase BEFORE I start writing. I become my own stumbling block in that way, because then I never actually write anything at all and give up. Write every day and make writing a habit.

3) Find your writing sweet spot and don’t be afraid to try and try again until you do! So one of the things I’ve learned having interacted with a lot of writers over the years is that so many of them have different rituals or habits that they perform. Jaime – one of my best friends in the world – can only write when she has orange Tic-Tacs. I can’t write when I’m listening to songs that have lyrics. I know people who like to be in a specific room or listening to a specific song or wearing something specific. Everyone is different – don’t try to force yourself into a writing environment you’re not comfortable with. Play around and figure out what motivates or comforts you.

4) “There are no walls in writing – only secret passageways.” That quote was said by my favorite Creative Writing professor ever. He told me this after I confessed that I had tried to make a poem work, but had hit a wall when I was writing. That advice has stuck with me every step of my writing journey. Often times, we hit walls when we’re writing or we get blocked (happens frequently to me) and we just give up, defeated. What David Athey told me was that a wall is never really a wall in writing. There’s always a way through it and the fun is in trying to find that secret passage out.

5) Have accountability. Jaime was my accountability for Just About Write and still, in a lot of ways, is. I’ll text her and whine about not wanting to write and she’ll text me back in all caps: “WRITE YOUR REVIEW.” She’ll yell at me when I need her to and that’s what good accountability is. She does it out of love, of course, but she motivates me when I know I need motivating and don’t want it. She’ll tell me to write and ask me how things are going. If you’re going to be a consistent writer, you’ll need someone to hold you accountable each week and see how you’re doing, even if it’s just a text to check in.

6) Read a lot. I know it’s cliché, but most clichés are actually ingrained with a tiny kernel of truth. Reading really does help you get a better grasp on writing. You learn what you do and don’t like about narratives this way. I learned, for instance, that I don’t mind reading in first-person but I much prefer writing and reading in third person limited point-of-view. I’ve always been told by writing professors that no matter what we do, we should never stop reading. You become inspired through reading. You learn new words or phrases and you learn how to better communicate your own vision to your readers. Plus, reading is just FUN.

7) Take a break when you need it. I know this may sound contradictory to what I said above about making writing habitual, but there’s a difference between making writing a habit and making it a burden. Don’t let writing become a begrudging task you need to accomplish. It should fill you with life, not be cumbersome for you. I often find that just taking a break from writing and going outside or watching a bit of television or reading is so much more helpful than trying to force myself through a draft. When I do that, my writing tends to sound forced and coerced, rather than natural. Even if it takes a little while, don’t be afraid to put your piece down and then come back to it. I promise you that it’ll still be there when you return.

8) Always have a recording device because trust me, you WON’T remember that awesome idea later on. This might sound a bit weird but inspiration strikes you in the least likely (and often most inconvenient) places sometimes. Isn’t it true that some of our best ideas happen when we’re in the showers or dreaming? When I was a cashier at a grocery store, I came up with this awesome phrase for a poem and I knew I would never remember it. So I ripped off a piece of receipt paper, wrote the phrase down, and stuck it in my pocket. I have notes on my iPhone because I know if I don’t write them down the second I think of them, I’ll forget. Always have a way to record – in some fashion – your writing or your notes.

9) Writing isn’t a science, it’s an art. No two people approach writing the exact same way. So don’t be upset if you find other people are drafting outlines for a novel and you’re just winging it as you go. That’s fine. Cooking is an art, but baking is a science. Baking requires precise measurements and ingredients. You really can’t just wing how much flour you put into a cake because it won’t come out the way you want it to. Cooking is less restrictive – you have more freedom to experiment. Don’t think of writing as a science. Think of it is an art form (because it is). So if you write better by constructing outlines and character portfolios, do it. If you write best when you just let the words flow naturally without any real preconceived structure, do it. If you find it more helpful to edit your writing as you go, do it. If you like writing at night under a lamp or outside in nature or on your train in a big city… do it. There’s no wrong way to write.

10) Don’t compare yourself to others. This final one is a bit self-explanatory but it’s the most important one. Don’t focus on your page count in comparison to someone else’s. Don’t measure your success by the success of others. It’s tempting to do it, because that’s our human nature. But all this will leave you is disappointed and discouraged.

These are a few of the things that have helped me the most in my writing journey, to be honest. And I’m happy to pass along this knowledge or any more to you all if you find it helpful! You can hit us up on Twitter or send us an ask here and we’d be happy to chat with you. :)

vulcansmirk  asked:

SERAPH (for the fic previews thing!!!!)

Good choice, Savannah, good choice. Here’s a snippet from Part 1, Chapter 4.

He tries not to shake as he watches Steve pack a tiny bag, tries not to resent the excitement radiating from his friend. In fact, he tries very hard not to think at all about the ridiculous, wholly inadvisable, foolish, insane thing he’s about to do. Any second now the Council could be listening, and he has no desire to attract any more anger from the Seraphim who could and would bring all the rage of Heaven down over their heads without a moment’s notice.

carohdanvers  asked:

three words: yellow, blue, gray :)

Send me three words and I'll write a poem (x)

Was there colour in the world before you? 
I forget sometimes. 

Was there yellow before the golden strands of your hair?
Surely even the sun could not have been so bright, so pure.
Surely even the proud narcissus shied away from such brilliance.

Did my eyes know blue before I met you?
The summer skies cannot have been brighter than your eyes.
The ocean waves cannot have been deeper than the bruises staining your skin.

Did red exist in the cosmic palette before you?
Before the heated-brand press of your lips on my skin,
Before the pearls of your blood beading on your knuckles?

Was there colour in the world?
It’s so hard to remember these days,
Under all these grays that you left behind,
Grey smoke–grey skies–grey ash–grey windows–

It’s so hard to remember these days
that you used to shine so bright.
That I used to shine with you, too.

anonymous asked:

18 clint and natasha, doesnt have to be romantic!!!

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” (x)

I couldn’t decide which version I liked better, so I’ll post both. 

——————————————

“We’re married.”

It’s been four months since Fury cleared Natasha for field work–after countless hours of interrogations, boxes full of new intel, and more tense stare-offs than he cares to count–and by now, Clint’s sure she won’t try and kill him in his sleep. Mostly sure. He still reaches for the hidden handgun wedged under the couch, finger poised tense against the trigger, when she shows up in his living room his door with less sound than a ghost. Seriously, he didn’t even hear the door open, although that might be partially due to the hearing aids currently sitting next to the pizza box. 

Natasha just shoots him an unimpressed glare–and he’s proud that he can read the subtle expression in her features–and repeats, “We need to be married.”

The words finally filter into his adrenaline-flushed brain, and he lets out a squawk. “We what?” He knows he looks ridiculous, wide-eyed and gaping with one hand still wrapped around the pistol, but he doesn’t how else to react. “You know, that’s usually not how people propose…”

A flick of annoyance passes across Natasha’s eyes, and she sighs. “For the mission. Fury briefed us on it this morning. I talked to Coulson, he agrees it would be too conspicuous for a woman to go into the gala alone, so you need to tag along. You just need to wear a tu–”

“Sorry, sorry, what?” Clint says, ignoring the deadly glare sent his way. “You want us to be fake married? Did my life just turn into a shitty rom com?” 

“It’s not a movie, Barton, it’s a mission,” Natasha shoots back, daggers in every word. “If you’re incapable of handling this, I can find someone else to play the role.”

“Are you kidding?” Clint scrambles up, swallowing down the laughter bubbling in his chest. Somehow, he gets the feeling that Natasha wouldn’t appreciate his bursting out laughing right now. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” He resolutely ignores both the quick flicker of what might be hurt across her face, and the fact that he literally has no idea what other stupid plans Natasha’s had before. 

Natasha nods once, then climbs out the window as casually as if that’s the normal exit to a room. Clint just stands there for a while, staring at the open window, then slowly returns to his pizza. 

And if the thought of their hands twined together, matching bands on their fingers, makes his heart beat a little too fast in his chest, well, nobody has to know. 

—————————–

The latest mission’s finally over–no more oversized bugs crawling across New York streets, thank you very much–and they’re lounging in one of billion common rooms in the Tower. There’s some movie on TV, but Clint’s not paying much attention; there’s more entertaining thoughts going on in his head than on the screen. 

“So I have an idea,” he whispers, nudging Natasha with his ankle. She swats his leg with the back of her hand, but turns to look at him anyway. 

“If you break anything, Clint, I’m not covering your ass this time. You can tell Fury exactly what happened.” 

“Aww, Tasha, c’mon! Have a little faith in me,” he whines. Natasha just raises one delicate eyebrow. “Okay, fine, so throwing darts at the hallway lights wasn’t the best idea. But I promise this is better.” 

She still doesn’t look convinced, but the eyebrow slowly climbs back down to its normal place, and Clint takes that as encouragement to continue. “Okay, so listen to this. We sneak into Tony’s lab–which you know will be a piece of cake–and paint all his suits purple. Or maybe red, white and blue? Or rainbow, that’d be funny. Imagine Iron Man flying like a giant rainbow. Hell, we can even paint his cars if we have leftover paint.”

Clint has to stop talking so he can cover up his snickers, while Natasha just stares at him. “This is,” she begins slowly, “without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever had.” Clint stops snickering and looks up, eyes wide with exaggerated hurt, and Natasha finally breaks into subdued giggles. “Of course I’m in.” 

anonymous asked:

Do you feel that Bucky and Steve are fully capable of feeling emotion and understanding others pain? I am imagining that with what they have been through, they need to "shut down" and step away from others emotions to better process situations.

I think there’s a difference between “capable” and “currently doing,” as well as between Steve and Bucky. (read more for length and maybe spoilers)

Keep reading

puresebastian  asked:

I was at work when I watched it, I slid off my chair and rolled around on the ground making crying noises (the only person around was my friend so i did not have to restrain myself lmao)

I WAS IN MY ROOM AND I JUST STARTED FLAILING AND SCREAMING AND MAKING HIGH PITCHED WHINING NOISES. I THINK MY ROOMMATE WAS CONCERNED.

barneswilson  asked:

i found you because you kept reblogging my poetry and i was like!! who is this darling!! who keeps warming my little nervous heart!! and i don't have a single regret tbh, you're a sweetheart (and a v talented one to boot)

Orion you’re the best and I love your poems and I will always love your poems omg you have no idea what kinds of emotions they can evoke ahhhhhh

[ How did you find me (& why did you stick around)? ]

jenn-oddballpunk  asked:

Ratchet?

  • First impression:
  • Impression now: grumpy medic perfect  in every way who does his job even when he doesn’t like it and despite all his gruff attitude he always tries to go for the solution with the least violence involved he is perfect and lovely
  • Favorite moment: Ratchet fixing Megatron despite not wanting to because his work as a medic is sacred. Also Ratchet putting a palm of wet paint all over Drift’s face. And many, many others.
  • Idea for a story: One day the crew wakes up to a perfectly cheerful and agreeable Ratchet with an excellent berthside manner and nobody can explain how it happened. Turns out it’s Ratchet’s biggest prank of the century.
  • Unpopular opinion: Nope, don’t have any
  • Favorite relationship: Ratchet/Twins, Ratchet/Megatron, Ratchet/Drift, Ratchet/Starscream etc.
  • Favorite headcanon: The fanon-maybe-not-so-fanon champion at wrench throwing Ratchet

anonymous asked:

They are the same writers who said that Peggy and Steve was just a kiss.

This is true. I just wish I hadn’t expected more from them. I wish they weren’t the ones who will be considered the ultimate authority, the ones who are telling these characters’ stories without doing proper honour to their lives and their choices, their sufferings and their hopes. I wish there wouldn’t be people who’ll come to form their understanding of Bucky through those words–those words of cruelty, really, that just heap on more tragedy and pain and blame upon a character who has already suffered so much, and who is possibly the most innocent out of anyone in this entire goddamn movie. I wish they wouldn’t cut off his narrative and forcefully remove any chance he has of growth and redemption in this universe, just when he is best poised to explore it, just because they can’t recognize that they’ve created the world’s longest-suffering victim of torture and cruelty and horrific acts he never asked for, and guilt he never should have to carry.

Honestly Marvel’s doing a bang-up job of pissing me off and disappointing me and I’m more and more inclined to step away from the source material (at least the main MCU) and just find my home in fandom. They honour the characters better, anyway. 

buckythewinterghost  asked:

Wait, how do you know that Steve and Sam are surrendering to Sharon Carter!?!?!

OKAY SO I can’t link you to the post rn because I’m on mobile but I did a little post cataloguing all the easy to miss appearances that I found. If you pause the trailer around 1:22 (I think??? If you find that post it has the time stamp I recorded when I found it) just as they walk into this generic white government building and people carry away their gear, to the right you see two figures they’re sort of facing off against. One of them is Sharon, the other is Martin Freeman.

kissedbifire  asked:

❤️ (ps I'm glad you chose this url! I love it!)

Aaaaahhhh thank you!!! I’m so glad everyone seems to like it I’m proud of it and surprised it wasn’t take already??

I’ll say this now mostly because I just saw your selfies, but you are cute as all heck like wow idk if you remember this but at least once I have mistaken a selfie of yours for Natasha (thanks reddish hair) before realizing it’s not???? 

Your icon is gorgeous and you are also very very friendly and you’ve been so nice to me every time I’ve talked to you!!! I love seeing you on my dash, it’s always quality content <3 and we should definitely talk more because you strike me as a very Cool Cat but I am smol and shy oops

[ Mutuals–send me a ❤️ for a compliment (or four) ]

chromapulse  asked:

Storm drunk river

Send me three words and I'll write a poem (x)

Here’s what I remember:
there was a river by your backyard
–or maybe it wasn’t more than a stream,
just a trickle of water
gouging fault lines across the grass.

Here’s what I remember: 
it was hot, but you still had a fire burning
(you loved campfires and marshmallows and stories)
and I was drunk on too much wine,
and the taste of your name on my lips,
and the sound of your dreams.

Here’s what I forgot:
winter always follows summer.
And no plea, however desperate
no cry, however loud
no love, however fervent
can outrun a storm. 

anonymous asked:

"Seulji, be a brand" THAT IS SO CUTE, I'm going to cry. She is so precious. If she ever goes down the brand line, I wonder what she wants to make fashion wise? I can see her modeling too, or even appearing in k-dramas in the future. Ah my bias is adorable ;v;

Yay, Seulji-biased anon! 👊💞

I knoooooow, it’s extremely cute! 😭💓 She did some modelling before being a trainee I think but I want, need, her to appear in a K-drama. It would be perfect! I hope she does release her own line of fashion someday. So far she’s only shown herself making accessories (wallets and rings), but maybe she’ll dabble with clothing or whatever as well! 🙂