because never really go down in any of the books

A day will come when your days will be unbearably too long, your nights will be too quiet, and the floor will feel too cold on your skin, and you won’t have any other choice but to pick yourself up, kick your feet up, and rise up again.

Because really, how long will you stay down, waiting, crying, and moping around when you’re the only one who can decide to save yourself?
—  cynthia go // Rise up
Dreamer- Jasper Cullen x Reader

Request: Can you do one with jasper from twilight where your new to town and Edward can read your mind so he sees all the daydreaming you do and Alice draws what you see, they tell their family about you and you end up being Jaspers mate or something?!? The reader has the ability to think of any nature related element and project it for themselves or others to see. The reader is also an immortal human.

A/N: Basically I got this amazing request a while ago and I’m sorry I haven’t posted it sooner I just needed time to get it right :) The incredible Tumblr user @itssssxxlillian came up with this idea and this power and it’s just so creative I’m absolutely wowed by it!! If you want a sort of visual of the inspiration for the readers abilities, please check out this video! :) Enjoy!

Grab your popcorn and fuzzy socks my friends, this is a long one! 

Words: 1,913

Warnings: Minimal swearing 

You were starting over again. A new town, a new place, a new school. You felt like your whole life was you starting over. It was the same story too. You moved to a new school for your last year of high school because you loved the state and your parents were kind enough to send you there even though they lived a couple states away. Everyone reacted the same way too. Usually envious, wishing their family would let them go where they wanted for high school. You would smile and agree that you were lucky except you never felt that way because the story was a cover. There was no loving family waiting for you to return home when the school year ended, it was just you. You weren’t really even a senior, the truth was you’d been repeating 12th grade for years. The truth was you’d been using this story for as long as you could remember, the truth was you’d lost count of your age because you weren’t just any other teen. You were immortal, and here you were, starting over again.

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It’s a conversation any books-first Harry Potter fan is all too familiar with: You’re talking about how wonderful Harry Potter is (because just because it’s nearly 2014 doesn’t mean you’re stopping that conversation any time soon), and your friend brings up that it doesn’t make any sense Harry wound up with Ginny Weasley of all people, because Ginny is the worst.

I’m sorry. This isn’t true at all! That’s just what Warner Brothers inexplicably wanted you to think because of the fact Ginny was in roughly 20 minutes of the entire franchise (time spent nearly dying in the Chamber of Secrets when she was 11 not included). Ginny is a really cool girl who becomes a really cool lady and –bonus! — through her J.K. Rowling taught teenage readers a lot of really valuable lessons about being yourself, owning your own accomplishments, and not waiting around for guys (well, at least not too much).

But while Book Ginny was a dynamic, feisty character, Film Ginny is a Manic Pixie Wallflower that could be literally anyone Daniel Radcliffe had zero chemistry with. Seriously, was it not possible for her to accio a personality from anyone in the general vicinity? Her entire role in the movies was to awkwardly kiss Harry once at the Burrow and once at Hogwarts, and then stare at him while he ran around actually doing things during the final battles.

There are plenty of Harry Potter book-to-film changes I’m still not over. (Who are the Marauders, you ask? Don’t ask anyone who only watched the movies!) But recently, what’s bugging me more and more is how little respect Ginny gets — and I think a lot of it is because of the films. It’s time someone stood up and defended her; She’s actually a really cool character — it’s just that none of her awesomeness translated onscreen.

Book Ginny would never. Let’s take a trip down memory lane…

Number One: Ginny from the book didn’t wait around for any man. When the boy of her dreams appeared disinterested (he had a few other things on his mind!) she didn’t get desperate. Instead, she got friendly with Dean, showing The Chosen One she had plenty of other things going on in her life. Next!

Number Two: While Harry is crushing on Cho in Order of the Phoenix, Ginny didn’t let her crush stand in the way of being useful and smart. She gave him support for Dumbledore’s Army, and helped fight at the Department of Mysteries, among other battles.

Number Three: While Harry, Ron and Hermione were off roaming a forest, Ginny was actually braving things out at Hogwarts — and it wasn’t all Yule Balls and Quidditch. In the books, Ginny and Neville are shown to be keeping the rebellion going at school (“Dumbledore’s Army, still recruiting“) – but only Neville’s heroism made the film. Ginny got to be a movie girlfriend, instead. -100 Points from the House of Movie Studios.

Number Four: This isn’t badass, per se, but I always thought it was really cool that right before Harry and Ginny finally kissed, Ginny was off winning a Quidditch game because her dumb crush was stuck in detention. Guys, am I right?

—  Entertainment Weekly’s Erin Strecker on why Book Ginny is cooler than Movie Ginny

Back when I was making the Banished Prince Funk vid, and reviewing all of the footage from Book one with Zuko in it, something really stood out to me that I hadn’t realized before.  Zuko’s exile isn’t just unhappy because of his father’s rejection, and how much he wants his father’s love and to go home.  His exile itself is pretty miserable independent of how it contrasts with what Zuko wants.  Being at court with his father and sister was bound to be pretty humiliating for Zuko, never measuring up, constantly being put down, but you would think that as much as Zuko hates exile, it might have been a break from that.  No, Book One tells us, it was not.

If Zhao is any indication, and I think he probably is, even fairly minor officers feel free to treat Zuko to ever more indignities, and carry on that same dynamic he grew up with in the Fire Nation palace.  And the structure of Zuko’s exile doesn’t help.  He isn’t stripped of his title, and he isn’t sent to some remote estate somewhere.  He’s sent to hunt the Avatar which we all know is a cruel spiteful joke, and so do all of the moderately well connected officers and colonial officials.  Zuko is a prince, and when he makes port, he’s probably expected to visit with the highest ranking Fire Nation official like he does with Zhao.  Sure, Zhao is particularly odious, and some of the officials may even sympathize with Zuko, but all of them know that his father won’t stop them from treating Zuko any way they please, and a high percentage of them probably treat him with a great deal of more or less well mannered contempt.  This means Zuko regularly gets his nose rubbed in the fact that no one respects him.

Zuko’s own crew doesn’t respect him, and he is woefully ill equipped to earn their respect.  Even Iroh, who loves his nephew so much does not respect Zuko’s mission, and in Zuko’s eyes, probably doesn’t respect him.  Throughout Book One and into Book Two, Zuko does everything he can to force other people to take him seriously, and clings desperately to any trace of dignity he can get his grubby little hands on.  And yeah, he throws his weight around and has tantrums, and doesn’t respect anybody else, so when every tiny ounce of dignity he manages to gain is knocked away from him repeatedly, it’s hard not to laugh.

It’s also hard not to feel bad for him, and not at all hard to see why Iroh’s lessons about pride and humility don’t sink in.  Iroh probably never faced anything like the kind of sustained attack on his self respect that Zuko is facing, at least not until he was an adult, and it’s a lot easier to be humble, and not cling to scraps of your pride when other people treat you like you matter.  I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Zuko doesn’t start really understanding Iroh’s lessons until he’s back at court being treated like a prince.

anonymous asked:

25 Feysand

Librarian/Avid Reader: Rhys goes into the bookstore where Feyre is volunteering and gets the biggest crush on her, so he keeps returning just to try and get her attention.

Rhysand had never really been one for going into the bookstores, not because he had some sort of aversion to them, but because he had a well stocked library at home, and didn’t feel the need to top it up any further. However, he had passed the local bookstore on his way home and remembered how Mor had requested a book for her birthday, and something about the quaint exterior had drawn him in. 

He hadn’t thought to stay very long, but he found himself lost in the rows of books, he didn’t really know where to begin looking. He kept moving down the aisles, stopping every so often to pick up a book that looked good, however, not finding the book that Mor had more like demanded. 

“Hi there, can I help you with anything?” A soft voice called out behind him. Rhysand turned and he felt his heart stop at the sight of the girl now in front of him. She had golden brown hair, pulled into a bun, and her eyes were like the colour of a stormy sea. He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so beautiful. 

“I’m looking for a book for my cousin. She said I could find it somewhere in this section, but I have yet to actually see it.” Rhys smiled at the girl, feeling like a teenage boy all over again. 

“What’s the book called? If it’s new, we sometimes won’t have it in until a week after it was released.” She smiled politely back at him, but made no move to move closer. Rhys told her the name, and she nodded eagerly and motioned for him to follow her. 

He had a difficult time focusing on anything else other than this wonderful person in front of him. 

“You’re in luck, we only have one copy left!” She handed him the book from the shelf, and as he took it from her hand, their fingers brushed. It was the softest touch, but Rhys felt it in every fibre of his body. The girl looked up at him with a startled expression on her face, and he knew that she had felt it too. 

Feyre didn’t say a word to the man who was stood in front of her. The feel of his hand against hers had sent her senses into overdrive. She would admit that he was the most magnificent male she had ever seen; and she was so taken aback at the fact that she was able to find someone attractive after Tamlin that she did something she never did to customers- she ignored him. 

He followed her to the counter, where she silently scanned the book and told him the total, she handed him the receipt and he said thank you, before leaving. She still didn’t say a word. 

Rhys returned the next day. He woke up that morning, thinking of the girl with the crystal blue eyes and he knew that he had to go back, if only to look at her once more. 

The sky had had gone dark, and the first spots of rain had begun to fall, he reached the bookstore and was grateful for the warmth it offered. He didn’t get far into the store before he heard her melodic voice, it was like something awoke in him. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I need help finding a book.” 

The girl looked up, and surprise flashed across her face, before returning to the neutral expression she had on before. 

“Of course, what’s the name?” 

He plucked a name out at random and once again, he followed her. 

“My name is Rhysand, by the way.” 

She made no move to reply, instead she just handed him another book. 

“Elain will serve you at the till. Have a good day.”

“Are you not going to tell me your name?” She slowly turned back towards him and let a little smile play at her lips. It was the first show of emotion he had seen, and even though it was only small, her smile was incredible, and he only wished he could see it more. 

“Feyre. My name is Feyre.” 

Feyre. Feyre. 

Rhys couldn’t get that name out of his head. 

He returned the a couple of days later, under the guise of buying another book, and when he got there, she wasn’t there. 

He returned again the next day, and the next. He went back almost everyday just to get a glimpse of the girl that was stealing his heart. They’d barely had a proper conversation, but he was drawn to her, like a moth to flame. 

It wasn’t until a few days before Christmas when Rhys went into the store and knew that today was the day that he was going ask her out. He’d been aching to take her on a date, but always stopped himself due to fear of her saying no. But he couldn’t stand it any longer. 

He caught Feyre hanging decorations around the store, and stepped up behind her. 


She turned and smiled at him, a bigger smile than he usually got.

“Hey Rhys. I was just finishing up, do you need any help finding a book?” 

He laughed, he hadn’t been in here to buy a book for a long time. 

“No, actually. But, I do have a question for you,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “would you like to accompany me to a Christmas party? 

Feyre stopped and took a few moments to actually wrap her head around the fact that this man actually wanted to take her anywhere, she took a deep breath before replying. 

“Yes, I’d love to.” 

"You appear to be very overdressed, Kyungsoo." (Part 1)

Genre: Smut / Fluff 

Warning: Sexual content 

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo, Kim Jongin 

Word Count:

Kai woke just a few minutes shy of when his alarm was set to go off, so he went ahead and turned it off and got up to start off his day. His morning routine on days off like this was rather mundane. He started with his morning workout, followed by a shower and then breakfast. Thankfully, downtime meant that he could take his time with his routine, which was rare nowadays with how busy their schedules had become. He put on a pair of basketball shorts, grabbed his cell phone and stepped out of his bedroom, running a hand through his messy bedhead. Once he round the corner, he saw Kyungsoo sitting on the couch, which caused him to stop for a moment to try and figure out why Kyungsoo was awake. He gave a simple nod in D.O’s direction and started playing some music from his phone and starting his workout for the day. Fortunately for Kai, he didn’t have set days of certain exercises when they had downtime, so he just did whatever. So, he dropped down onto the floor and started doing some push-ups, keeping his eyes on the floor and glancing up at Kyungsoo occasionally.

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she’s mean

tagging @kurtwxgners and @v-writings! thank you so so so much for the help v!!

Warren was a boy who’d grown up with nice things, material and natural, though he didn’t really think he deserved them. And then you came along, and by all means you were not a nice thing, given your tendency to be pretty fucking brutal with your backhanded compliments, snide remarks to him about his drinking problem, and sarcasm regarding his “wonderfully bright personality.” Still, he didn’t think he deserved you, either.

You were mean. Everyone knew that. But that’s what everyone liked about you. Sometimes it’s refreshing, like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer day, to hear a bitch get dragged. And the person to do that would be you, with no hesitation.

Being mean was just how you talked. You didn’t mean all the shit you said, and he knew that. It was the only way you could express yourself. He should know. He was like that too, once. And sometimes he still is.

In Germany he was worse than you. He made people cry on the daily with words like barbed wire and damn if he didn’t enjoy it. There was something so satisfying about knowing how he held that much power over someone’s emotions. Looking back, it scared him, like shook him to his emotional core and made him wonder if he was kind of a psychopath, but he pushed the thought away. That was a different time. And now that he was at Xavier’s, it felt like a different life.

So Warren sat with you at lunch if your few friends weren’t there. He carried your books if you had too much to carry and he listened to you bitch and laughed at your insults (because damn if they weren’t funny.)

And in return he saw the insecure little girl behind your big words, just like there was a scared little boy with wings behind his icy glares and silence.

He saw the glances you gave him at lunch, those filled with some emotion he knew existed but couldn’t explain. Happiness? No, it went deeper than that. Something akin to admiration - but not quite. How you picked daisies on a warm day and wove them in between the feathers of his wings. You always helped him with his homework, something he was eternally grateful for even though you’d make remarks about his intelligence (again, not that you meant it.)

He slammed his tray on the table where you were eating your sandwich in the cafeteria. “Someone’s pissy today,” you said, snorting.

“What’s new?”

“Got me there, bird boy. Any reason why?”

Warren groaned, a sound low in his throat that most teenagers could relate to. So he may have accidentally chugged some vodka when he realized there were these pesky little things called feelings hanging around in his heart. “Hangover. Everything’s too loud.”

“Don’t you know the dangers of teenage drinking? No wonder you turned out the way you are.”

“Yeah, that and my wonderful adolescence spent in a cage in Germany.”

You looked up from your lunch, actually meeting his eyes, something you really only did when you weren’t joking around. “Did I cross a line?”

“Kinda just drove straight over it.”

You sighed. “You know, I tend to do that sometimes.” You opened your mouth, and closed it. Hesitation - nervousness - wasn’t really like you. “Did you…why were you…drinking? If you care to elaborate?”

He leaned back in his chair and broke eye contact. He couldn’t say this while looking you in the eyes. “Ah, you know. Emotions, and the like. Never really been good at processing them.”

Warren knew that physically he was strong, but emotionally, he was weak. Crippled, even. And he couldn’t stand that. Of all the things he’d change about him - what he’d give to be emotionally stable.

You started tapping your fingers against the table. You were nervous. Why were you nervous? When you were nervous, it made him nervous, because you were a rock - almost nothing got you flustered. At least, not that he’d seen. 

You stood up abruptly. “I gotta get outta here. The air’s too thick. Library?”

“Please.” He left his tray there - he didn’t feel like eating anyway. He followed you to the library. He almost stopped himself when he realized he was following and someone else was leading. Normally he’d never let his guard down like that, and he still didn’t really know why he was now, but you were just so damn magnetic it felt natural.

He wasn’t going to lie. You caught his eye because you were hot. But he’d swear on the bible it was your personality that made him stay.

You led him near the back of the massive library, in a secluded spot wedged between dusty, towering bookshelves with the distinct old book smell of his father’s study. Or any rich person’s private study, really. It’s not like his father’s was special.

The sunlight filtered in kaleidoscopic shards through the stained glass window, hitting your face. You squinted, moving away, but for a moment he saw your eyes illuminated and absolutely wondrous.

He sat down, pulling a book from behind him and leafing through the pages. A dictionary. “Got anything better on your side?” he said in a low tone, the silence something rare and precious he did not want to ruin.

You didn’t say anything. Instead you stared at the ground. “I got something better to tell you,” you said in a soft and gentle voice he’d heard only once, when you and him were sitting in the courtyard at midnight and you thought he was asleep, you said to him that you couldn’t ask for a better friend in the world, and you were so, so sorry for being so closed off. He had heard you and he had wanted to cry because he didn’t even have the courage to say the same to you.

And you looked up at him.

“So we’re both emotionally fucked up. You drink to forget like an old redneck man, and I insult people because I can’t take it that most people are better than I ever will be. We’re both attention whores in our own special ways. But it works for us,” you said, taking a pause, “right?”

“Yeah,” he said, “it really does.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really like you. As a person but also as…more, if you want. I know a lot’s been on your mind lately and it’s been the same for me, and I just needed to get this off my chest.”

Your voice was hoarse and wispy. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do,” he whispered.

And so you moved over to sit beside him. You put a hand on his face and gently pulled him down to meet your lips. You were soft and gentle - words he’d never acquaint with you, yet there you were, grazing his bottom lip with your teeth and running a cautious hand through his curls.

So he’d kissed people before. He’d kissed a lot of people - girls, mostly, some extremely beautiful girls, even a guy when he was shitfaced one night in Germany. Point is, Warren got around.

But all of that meant nothing as he kissed you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out when you pulled away.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he responded.

You nodded. Oh, how he hated that you nodded and he loathed that he found himself nodding along. “I’m not good for you,” she said, and he could almost hear the sound of his shattered heart hitting the floor because it just wasn’t true and why would you ever think that? You were the best thing that had happened to him in, well, his entire shitty life.

“I’m about as good for you as cheap wine coolers after a breakup. But you, no - you’re the real shit. The good wine. The fine wine that I’d never touch in my life because that’s for people who actually care about shit and I’m more of a vodka kind of guy anyway. But I wish I drank fine wine. I wish I was that person who has their shit together enough to even touch a bottle of fine wine. But I’m not, and I never will be. This won’t work.”

She snorted. “Warren, I don’t know what kind of weird alcoholic LSD fantasy you live in, but I am not fine wine. I’m those cheap wine coolers. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a shitty person. I say bad things and I’ve done bad things and I can’t count all the things wrong with me on all my fingers and toes. Maybe you’re drunk on me now - like a pussy, if I’m wine coolers - but you’re just going to end up regretting everything hunched over a toilet bowl. Jesus, how did you make comparing people to alcohol poetic? How do you even do that? Look at you, you’re a fucking miracle. You’re too good for me.”

“Oh, jesus, we’re never going to get past this, are we?” he said, sighing. Not because of you - he definitely understood where you were coming from. He just really wanted to kiss you again. “I think you’re fine wine and you think I’m a miracle. We’re both fucked up pretty badly but believe me, I’ve met worse. How bout we just…you know, kiss again, and we’ll see where it goes-”

You cut him off by straddling him, and the sound you make when you kiss him is heavenly. Better than any Metallica or Van Halen. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, and you practically throw yourself into his arms. Your hands grip his hair a little too tightly as you grind a little against his hips and he’s ashamed to say he moaned way too loudly for a library. His wings spread out beneath him, curling around you both, and you start to kiss his neck. Unsurprisingly, you find a weak spot. 

“Wow,” he gasped between moans. “You really are mean.”

You pull away, crossing your arms and smiling with a glint in your eye. “You’d rather I not kiss you?”

“Now that would just be cruel.”

Hey Juliet (ch3)

olicity || ao3 || mature || humor || 3828 || more fics

summary: Oliver and Felicity are forced to work together for a class project. He comes over to her house to study, but things don’t go according to Felicity’s plans.
chapter word count: 1250
chapters: 3?

a/n: oh i missed these two idiots

[ch1] [ch2]

“I hope you and Oliver have fun this evening,” Donna said as she got ready for work.

“We’re not going to,” Felicity nearly snapped, “We’re just studying.”

“Oh, Felicity,” her mother chided, “It’s okay to live a little. You’re a teenager, that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“I don’t like him, mom.”

Donna moved to stand in front of her, crossing her arms, “Why?”

“Because he’s a rich jerk,” she mumbled, looking away from her.

“I think you need to give this boy a chance.”

She sighed heavily, “I don’t want to.”

Donna reached down to tilt her head up, “Sweetheart, I have seen you push so many people away. Anyone that has wanted to be friends with you never got the chance. You can’t keep pushing people away. If you do, you’re going to have a very lonely life.”

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When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 9

Part 9 is here, and I’m really excited to post it!  Some of these scenes have been written for weeks but I just didn’t have the dots connected.

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 2556


For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth).  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: A bit of angst, mentions of torture, death, and murder…some fluff at the end that might give you a toothache..,

Tagging:  @rogersxbarnesx @hellomissmabel @beccaanne814-blog @howdoesoneadult @laurenwhitehouse-blog @musichowler @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest @4theluvofall @shifutheshihtzu

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

Bucky studies you for a minute.  “It’s really sweet that you do that for them.”

You shrug as you start to yawn.  “I’d do anything for them, even humiliate myself.”

Yawns are contagious; he lets one go as well.  “You should get some sleep,” he offers lightly.

‘Yeah, I should,” you acknowledge, “and so should you.”

“I will.  G’night.”


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anonymous asked:

Hey girl. I just wanna say that your artwork is amazing and just got a question: do you like anime or manga, if so what is ur favorite?

Ah definitely manga, i was growing up with a passion for it, and its the reason why im here. Unfortunately, I feel that manga is going down hill because of all these echi hentai they keeps showing and lack of fine content.

Im not a big fan of anime because I dont think they designed the plot well or I just never came across a good one. Recently I got into reading book more and even more picky than I was before, and Manga sucks, so I got into some anime. Ghost in the shell, paprika, perfect blue… all are really nice, I think I will see more to Satoshi Kon work. If you have any suggestion, please send in since im really thirsty for quality content now huhu. But besides from mystic messenger, Im into scifi and pshychological gerne, if you can suggest those it would be nice.

anonymous asked:

I really adore your writting and was wondering if you have any tips or advice? I've always had a vivid imagination that produces many story ideas, but when I try to write I find that I can't get whats in my head out into words. I don't know if you have trouble like this, but if you do what do you usually do? Sorry if I'm bothering you.

No bother at all!

To be perfectly honest… I struggle a lot when it comes to writing. I honestly couldn’t tell you what on earth I’ve managed to do in Goblin Men to make so many people love it and its style. I’ve been trying to pin it down and replicate it for my own books but it’s wonky.

A way I tend to go about things is to not really worry about the writing itself to begin with? I use Evernote a lot, and if I have an idea I REALLY like and want to explore, I create a notebook for that and just… create notes. I have notes that are only a few bits of dialogue and that’s it. If you do your writing digitally, I highly recommend Evernote, it syncs up online and you never really lose anything.

If I have an idea for a story, I try and write it down so I’ll remember it later. (I tend to monologue a lot of dialogue aloud, which I then forget. It’s a nightmare.) Got something for a character backstory? Jot it down. Got a neat bit of dialogue? Some worldbuilding? Some picture you found online that fits the theme, or an actor whose face fits a character? Put it somewhere you can access it and remember it. Slowly build. It helps, trust me. My first step is getting the ideas OUT of my head, and into Evernote. (I have an absolutely stupid amount of things in Evernote that will never see completion.)

I also follow some writing blogs. @writeworld, @clevergirlhelps, @nimblesnotebook are some that I’ve found recently that have cool tips and inspiration.

When it comes down to the actual nitty gritty of writing… it helps to have a nice writing program. And fonts. FOOOOOONNNTS. Love of my life. I use LibreOffice for my own writing projects. Lovely bit of free software.

I have issues with revising. My brain doesnt work in first draft/second draft/so on. I constantly keep going back and tweaking my work and Im desperately trying to get out of that habit.

I’m really not sure what my writing style is, or how it comes together. I really don’t. A friend was gonna analyze Goblin Men and hopefully she comes up with some answers.

It really helps if you have someone you can bounce ideas off of. I have two IRL friends, and any time I get an idea for Goblin Men, I immediately tell them. And then they yell at me. A lot. Find someone who can either give you critiques of ideas, or just… yell all-caps encouragement. Have someone to rant to about all those wonderful concepts. And KEEP THAT NOTE SYSTEM. It will be your salvation when you really get dedicated to a writing project.

Try for things like NaNoWriMo. Just try and write a little bit every day. Just a few sentences. It’ll help.

Pro tip: don’t write ten thousand words in present tense and then decide to change it to past tense. You will Suffer.

If you’re really stuck getting the ideas into a bookish format, try making an outline. I tend to work in bullet point lists in Evernote. Just write down the ideas you have for a Thing and don’t even really worry about putting them in chronological order at first.

For the writing itself… if music helps you think, find some nice background music. Have a snack. Sleep. Sit your butt down and make yourself write. You don’t even have to start at the beginning, just write what you’ve got at the moment. Half the time when I’m writing Goblin Men, I start the chapter, then head to the middle, then staple it together like a Frankenstein abomination.

I’ll tell you this cuz I need to get myself to understand it: it doesn’t need to be absolutely perfect right away. Let it be kinda shitty. Let it stumble along as you figure out the tone you want. The writing will catch up, just put the story to words.

If you’ve got 20 bucks, I’ll point you towards ZenWriter. It’s a program that fills up your entire screen, and you can select a custom background and it plays soothing music, and you can make it so when you type, it makes an old typewriter noise. As you’re typing, the only thing you see are the words.

If you have trouble with distractions, that can be really helpful. I’ve found in the past that when using ZenWriter, once I get going, I don’t want to stop. It’s just me and the words.

Make little notes. Write down ANY cool idea you have, especially if you’re working on a big headworld or book. Watch cool speedpaints. Follow aesthetic blogs. Read people whose work you enjoy.

Ask people for advice and then watch them type out an excessively long reply because she gets super excited when people look to her for guidance because that’s literally never happened before ;)

Wow. That was long. Hope that helps! Feel free to ask more specific stuff, or just stuff in general!

↠ Stormy Night

Paring: Taehyung // Reader // Jin

Rating: Best friend AU! // Fluff // mention of the movie ‘Don’t Breathe’ //

amazinghefi request: “Can I get a fluffy but platonic sleepover scenario with Taehyung and Jin?”

A/N: Of course love! It’s kinda longer than I originally planned but I hope you like it!

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Balam Academy: Curse of The Tainted Key

Summary: Lucy Heartfilia (apprentice to none other than the Fairy Godmother) is in for the adventure of her life when she is enrolled in a boarding school for the sons and daughters of Fiore’s greatest (and not so greatest) villains.

It’s soon discovered that somewhere within the school is a Gate Key that’s been manipulated to produce the darkest magic ever documented. Lucy finds herself in a race to find the Key, since the holder must be pure of heart; meanwhile, the friends that she’s made along the way must decide whether they are going to stand to help their new friend, or risk deliberately going against their parents, as the Villains too desire the power of the mysterious Key.

Broken promises, changes of heart, potential first love…

And it’s only her first semester. 

a/n: lmao, okay, so this has been a long time coming. so sorry for the wait, you guys. no excuses, but we’re here now! i know this is only the first little part, but hopefully it gives you guys a good feel for how the rest of the story is going to go<3 

There was a boy in Lucy’s dorm room, or rather, what she thought was her dorm room.

The blonde in the doorway tightened her grip on the handle of her suitcase, her eyes widening a bit at the boy’s ruffled appearance. Briefly, she found herself wondering if his pink hair was natural, or if he’d slipped a pixie a little something extra to obtain that certain hue.

Stepping one foot back out into the hall, the girl quickly double-checked to make sure the engraved plaque did in fact say Girls.

It did.

Just to be extra cautious, she triple-checked to make sure it was the correct number: Room 777.

It was.

Looking back into the dorm room, upon closer inspection there appeared to be a girl there as well, though that was far less concerning. Shifting her weight uncomfortably from side to side, Lucy realized for the first time that she seemed to be interrupting something.

“Uh, sorry,” Lucy cleared her throat, gaining at least the boy’s attention; the girl with blue hair never even lifted her head at the sound of a new voice. “Am I in the wrong-”

“No, you’re not,” the boy sneered, cutting her off and sounding cross while not sparing Lucy a second glance. He kept his attention on the other girl seated in the corner of the room with her head in a book.

“Levy,” he said, his tone shifting from annoyed to desperate. “Please-”

“No,” the girl was quick to cut him off, pushing a skinny pair of cranberry-colored glasses up the bridge of her nose as she did so. “I spent all last semester helping you out, yet you still failed to show up for final exams. We’re friends, but I’m not wasting my time again helping you study just for you to purposely screw yourself over.”

Harsh. Lucy winced at the girl’s words, feeling for the boy even though he hadn’t exactly made the best first impression.

“You sound just like Erza right now! I told you, dammit,” he was quick to retort. “Something came up!”

Lucy watched as the girl didn’t flinch in the slightest at the boy’s rising voice. She merely licked the pad of her thumb before calmly turning the page of her book.

“Is that the same excuse you gave Mad Mim when grades were sent home?” she asked coolly. “Speaking of which, how would your mother feel if she heard that you’re practically begging Maleficent’s daughter for help right now? You know our mothers don’t exactly get along ever since the infamous PTA meeting of 2004.”

The boy threw his hands up in the air. “Forget it,” he scoffed, running a hand through his mop of hair before whirling around on his heel, breezing past Lucy at the door. The blonde’s eyes widened just the slightest when he accidentally bumped shoulders with her in his haste to leave.

The strange boy was gone, but the doorway lingered with the scent of wood chips and cinnamon toothpaste. 

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You’re Out of my League

Could you do one where George is trying to ask you out but you have really low self esteem and turn him down because of it and when he asks why you end up telling him and just really fluffy

Warnings: None

A/N: Any characters from the potterverse belong to J.K. Rowling. 

Masterlist Here

“I’ll catch up with you later. I have to go pick up some books from the library,” you called to your friends as you packed up your books. You had to start your massive report for divination today or else you’d never get it done in time.

“I’ll come with you,” your friend George offered. You wondered why on earth he wanted to go. It was not like he enjoyed the library and its tranquil atmosphere.

“I think Madam Prince will kick me out if you make me laugh too much like last time,” you warned.

“I won’t laugh,” adding a dramatic pause he added. “much. I promise.”  The determined look in his mischievous eyes confirmed that George was fully committed to this mini trip to the library with you. With a huff, you headed toward the library as George followed behind you. When you arrived, you realized you weren’t the only one getting started on their research for Divination as you recognized someone else from your class with a stack of books. The library was oddly comforting to you; it made your work of selecting books more of a game than a chore. You’d wonder if the students from years past used the book, and all the projects they had gone through. Although the crinkled spines showed the physical age of the book, the knowledge inside the book was timeless. Some spell always managed to keep the pages crisp and untorn despite the passage of time.   Just as you were selecting books for your paper topic, you felt a light tap on your shoulder.  

“Y/N, I wanted to ask you something,” George smiled.  

“Of course George you can ask me anything,” you replied as you continued selecting books for your pile.  

“Would you like to go out some time?” George blurted..

You froze. George couldn’t have possible asked you out. Maybe he was talking to someone else. Your eyes scanned your surroundings only to confirm that you were the only girl within talking distance, well not counting Madam Prince who was staring at the two of you. The sour look on her face confirming that she had heard George’s bold statement.

“Y/N, did you hear me? I wanted to know if you’d like to go out sometime,” George asked yet again, this time his voice returning to a low purr.

“I umm no George I don’t think so,” you slowly began pulling books again.

“Oh,”  George sighed. Your shoulders tensed when you heard the slight pain in his voice. “I didn’t think you’d say no. Can I ask why?”

“It’s rather complicated George. I’d rather not talk about it,” but when you turned and saw the look of rejection on George’s face, you couldn’t resist divulging.” I don’t think I can go out with a guy like you.”

“Is it because of my jokes because I’m not joking all the time,” George shouted. Once more Madam Prince appeared raising a finger to her lips. George smiled back at her nervously before turning back to face you.

“No, it’s not that. I just, I don’t think I’m worthy of a guy like you,” you murmured as you bit your lip.

“You not worthy? Y/N, I’m not worthy of a girl like you. You’re far more patient then I, far more talented at schooling, and way prettier,” George insisted.

“Thanks George,” you looked down to the floor, but George gently moved your head up.  

“I’m not finished. Y/N you don’t understand. You’re completely out of my league. You tutor people in your free time, heck you tutor when you’re busy. You put your friends’ happiness far above your own, and you’re saying you’re not worthy?” George marveled.

It did seem kind of ridiculous to believe that you weren’t worthy when George said those kind things about you.

“Do you really mean all that? “ you whispered.

“Of course I do. You are not a person I joke about,” George pointed out. You couldn’t help but blush.

“Alright George, I’ll go out with you,” you smiled.

“Brilliant! I’ll pick you up Friday at eight,” before he could go on with his plans, Madam Prince stormed the section you were in demanding you take your conversation elsewhere. Giggling, the two of you left the library not only with your books but also with your newfound confidence.

This One Is Yours

Of course Danny knows about werewolves.

When he was three, his mom sat him down in the park next to a boy in the sandbox, and she leaned over and touched Danny’s head as she whispered, “This one is yours. Take care of him.”

The other little boy tilted his chin and gave Danny a look like someone had pooped in the sand. “I’m Jackson.”

Danny just smiled mildly as he filled his bucket of sand. “I’m Danny,” he said, and dumped it over the other boy’s head.

At the end of an hour they were filthy, sweaty, hungry, and inseparable. They went for ice cream with the Whittemores, and when they were safely in their own car and halfway home, Danny’s mom slumped in her seat.

“You don’t like her,” Danny told her, because he could see it in the way Mrs. Whittemore stole the real smile from his mom’s face and replaced it with a doll’s grin.

“That doesn’t matter,” his mom said quietly. “Because you like her son.”

It was true. Danny had never known Jackson before that day, but he already knew that nothing would ever keep them apart from then on.


Of course Danny knows about werewolves.

When he was twelve his mother sat him down and said, “It’s time for the talk,” and Danny rolled his eyes.

“I already know all about sex,” he told her. “Jackson’s got a book his parents gave him right before they told him he’s adopted. He’s really angry about that. Oh and I’m not going to get a girl pregnant because I like boys. I’ll make sure Jackson doesn’t get any girls pregnant when we’re older, because he likes girls.”

His mother blinked, momentarily shocked before a swift smile bloomed. “I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to tell me that, but this isn’t what this talk is about.”

“It isn’t?” Danny couldn’t imagine what else there could be; to his twelve year old mind, that’s the biggest thing that might come up, unless… his brows drew together in a frown and he looked at his mother carefully, seeing himself in the line of her jaw and the way she held herself when she sat. “Am I adopted too?”

She laughed. “No. But you are the moon, and that will be important someday.”

“Mahealani means moon,” he said solemnly. He and his younger siblings knew the old legends by heart.

Her expression approved and she cradled his face, her hands warm and bright. “Exactly, my son. We are the light of the moon shining in the darkness.”

When she pressed her hands in against his skin, Danny felt something come to life in his heart, bursting out until he shone so much he could barely breathe. He gasped, trying to reign it in, gather in all the light before it is lost.

“That is our heritage,” she continued as if something hadn’t changed like a switch being thrown. “We bring light in the darkness, and we are a beacon for those who need us.”

“Like Beacon Hills,” Danny mused.

“Exactly like Beacon Hills.” She patted the top of his head, smoothing his hair back.

“It’s dangerous here.” It wasn’t something that he knew consciously, more like something he had overheard his parents whispering when they thought the children were already in bed. But Danny was keeping later and later hours, hiding his laptop under his blankets as he programmed and poked and learned how the internet worked. “Why don’t we move?”

“Would you want to leave Jackson?” his mom countered, and Danny shook his head. “Then that’s why we don’t move.”

It was something more than that, Danny knew. But he also knew when not to push.


Of course Danny knows about werewolves.

He spent his early teen years studying what it meant to be a Mahealani, harnessing the power of the moon that lived in his heart and in turn helping to teach each of his younger siblings as they came of age. He felt the tug when his moon pulled toward Jackson, but he chalked it up to sexuality as Jackson teased him that he was everyone’s type as he always did.

There was nothing between them, not like that. But there was something.

It all started to unravel when Derek Hale came back to Beacon Hills. In those few moments, when his mother first heard that a Hale had returned, Danny put it all together.

Full moon.



“Dude, you don’t want to get involved with Derek Hale,” Danny muttered when Jackson ranted–again–about Scott’s new prowess on the lacrosse field. Danny had felt Scott inhale, had tried to ignore it as simply new cologne catching the attention of the other boy, but he saw the eyes flash. Danny knew what it meant because he was a Mahealani and wolves were his creatures to calm and call.

He could see the path of danger laid out and Jackson standing squarely in the middle, drawn toward Derek like a moth to a flame.

Or a cub to a parent or sibling.

Danny bit his tongue because he couldn’t say anything, not when he didn't know anything, not for sure.

But he remembered what his mother said once, that this one is his. And he knew what that meant for Jackson, even if Jackson had no idea.

“The moon is a lady of secrets,” his mother had told him. “We can only shine when no one knows, under cover of darkness. Telling him will destroy your ability to help him.”

So Danny stayed quiet, suffered through everything until the day that Jackson sat in his bedroom and said, “I died yesterday,” and Danny couldn’t keep it quiet anymore.

His mom was wrong, he realized. He was still the moon because Jackson still had more darkness than either of them could bear, even with Danny’s light.


Of course Danny knows about werewolves.

Mahealanis have always known, because they are the light that shines in the darkness, calling like a beacon to their wolves.

More Lorien Legacies Friendships I want

Some of these are really weird or unlikely, but bear with me

John and Marina:

  • They’re basically the only ones who know what they’re doing half the time
  • They hugged once and I cried
  • Basically the Dad Friend and the Mom Friend
  • Can you imagine what would happen if they fought? A constant stream of strained politeness and passive aggression
  • Ella: “Mom and Dad are fighting again
  • John helps her cook and Marina sketches him while he trains
  • For Christmas, John gets her an apron that says “Kiss the Cook” and she gets him a fanny pack
  • They send each other letters even when they live near each other because yeah it’s slow but it’s nice for John to be staying in one place long enough to have a constant address 
  • Marina sends him little dried flowers
  • All around incredible 10/10

Five and Daniela:

  • (this was originally Sarah but you know how that turned out)
  • Literally the fiercest friendship you have ever seen in your whole life
  • Daniela actually sits and listens to Five’s whole story (from the very beginning, not just the Eight thing) and, of course, Nine’s testament and decides “You know what? You made a mistake–a hella big mistake–but you’re trying to make up for it. I get it, you’re trying”
  • From that moment on Five latches on like there is no tomorrow
  • In the middle of a battle a mog sneaks up on Daniela, but never gets past Five
  • You want to take out the medusa girl? Good luck getting past Five cause he’s made of metal and flying and COMING RIGHT AT YA
  • They go out for Starbucks and frozen yogurt all the time
  • The Garde check Daniela’s Snapchat story to find dozens of selfies with Five
  • “Apologizing is hard, I get it, but just say it, Five. Five. Are you listening to me? Get back here right now!”
  • She calls him Cinco 
  • The unstoppable force
  • Could totally kick your ass

Nine and Sam:

  • I know I’ve talked about this one before but I need more
  • Nine gets him into trouble all the frickin time
  • These kids can’t even go to the grocery store without something going wrong
  • You know that list going around the internet called “How to get kicked out of Walmart”?
  • They’ve tried all of them
  • You can and should make a sitcom about them
  • HOWEVER it mainly began when Sam started getting nightmares about his torture and Nine relates and they support each other and I’m crying now excuse me
  • –90% of their interactions
  • Got lost in Ikea. Found hours later eating meatballs in the fake dining rooms with no clue as to how they got there

Mark and Six:

  • The unstoppable duo of death and over-competitiveness
  • At first Mark is kindof really intimidated because he’s seen what she can do, and she’s the first Loric that he’s met (besides John, but he was never scared of him)
  • Then he beats her at checkers
  • Then it is on
  • Constant competition to prove superiority in any situation
  • Making smores? “Hey Six I bet I can fit more marshmallows in my mouth than you can.” At the library? “Mark I can totally stack more books than you can AND THEN stand on top of it.” “PROVE IT, LORIC!” Literally just walking down the street. “CARTWHEELS NOW GO DO IT”
  • Non stop
  • People start taking bets. It is glorious. Five keeps track of it all. Sam looses all of his allowance every time.
  • They’re super great sports about it though no matter who wins because they respect the frick out of each other
  • Loser buys ice cream for the winner

Adam and Ella:

  • Kinda awkward but once they get to know each other more their friendship works out really great
  • They know what it’s like to be treated like actual Mogadorians, so they’ve experienced quite a bit more than the others, and it brings them a little closer together
  • Ella sometimes picks up on his thoughts and when she picks up on his little sassy bits she bursts out laughing
  • Sometimes in the middle of important meetings but she can’t help it because it’s just hilarious
  • “Hey, uh, sorry I almost killed Setrakus Ra even though I knew you might die.” “Don’t worry about it. I was trying to get everyone else to do that for days.” “Dude that’s hardcore.” “I know.”
  • Whenever Ella’s in a crappy situation (You know, teen party gone wrong stuff, after the war is over) that she doesn’t want the rest of the Garde to know about, she can call Adam and she knows he won’t tell
  • Secret handshakes and acting cool with sunglasses
  • Ultimate sibling relationship

And that’s all for right now! Feel free to add on to any of these if you like them!

My first brush with anon hate

Wow. Just WOW. I got a couple of these a few hours ago but I ignored and deleted them. And then these came trickling in. WO W, people.

Not all of these are hate, but I think they were provoked by the same thing so I’m answering all of them in one go.

It is indeed.

I call myself a writer because I write. But I mean sure maybe I can call myself a skimmer. And also an answerer. And also an typer? How about sarcasm-er? But also call me a reader coz:

I do, in fact, read fics. Sometimes I savor them, reading them very slowly. Sometimes I read them quickly. Sometimes I skim fics then read them later. Sometimes I forget to read them later. Sometimes I reread fics several times. Sometimes I don’t read fics at all even if they’re super popular because they’re not my jam. Because I’m allowed to decide things like this, and you are too.

(Call me a decider, too. Decision-maker. Whatever.)

I did read it. (See? Reader.) And I enjoyed reading it.

I’m not really obliged to do this, but I guess I’ll break it down: I loved the beginning. I reread it several times. There are scenes I can still picture in my head even if I can’t recall what words Pilot actually used. And then there are parts I skimmed because of my mood or schedule at the time, or another reason I cannot remember right now. But even those parts I read slowly enough to understand what’s going on. I read the important bits, and I recall that I reread the Boss Fight part a few times.

But can I remember all of it? No. It’s been months since I read it, and I’ll quote @baneismydragon​ here and say: I can’t even remember half the stuff I put in my OWN fics much less everything in the literally hundreds of ones I have read.

I don’t even know how to answer these.

This is baffling. How did you come to this conclusion just because I didn’t carefully and thoroughly read a fic?

But I’ll bite.

Look. I don’t hate @thelastpilot​. Just typing “hate” and Pilot’s name in one sentence feels wrong. We don’t talk often, but we’ve talked through reblogs and in Discord. I post-beta’d a part of her fics (though I’m not quite sure if she applied my edits, which is of course up to her as the writer). We’re both part of @project-ml​. I have so much respect for her creativity, how she consistently cranks out these chapters, and just the many hours and words and emotions she has poured out.


Guys. Come on. Let’s zoom out a little here– beyond me, beyond Pilot, beyond this fic, beyond the Miraculous Ladybug fandom, even.

We have “Must Read” lists, and pieces that we consider “Required Reading”. But when it comes down to it, there is nothing that’s really required for a person to be considered a “good fan” of the show. Or any show or book or movie, for that matter.

Please never force people to read a fic, even if you think it’s so great that everyone should read it. Go ahead and recommend it to people with all caps and fangirling and begging. (I’ve done that many times too.) But if they say it’s not their cup of tea, or that it’s “just okay” instead of singing praises about it, then let them. Please never look down on people just because they didn’t read a fic like you did. Please never insult people if they didn’t like it like you did. Never diss people if they liked a thing you disliked.

Fanfic is for enjoyment. Let people pick the fanfic they want to enjoy, and let them enjoy it the way they want to. Treat others with respect and kindness. Please. (Related reading: The Three Laws of Fandom)

Since I’m feeling proud of myself for not just pirating the manga

This is my Mashima shelf. Fairy Tail was the manga that finally drove me to start reading online, since I couldn’t take it when I found out how much of the story was out that wouldn’t release in the US for years. Kodansha really sped up the English releases eventually, but back when Del Rey handed the localization they released the manga at a slower rate than Mashima drew it at.

I already had the first couple volumes, and supporting the series means there’s more incentive to keep it going, so I kept buying them. Every now and then I fall behind, but I’m usually no more than four behind whatever the most recent to release it. I was better about it before Boarders closed, because Boarders was close by.

(Somewhat obnoxiously, even after we moved, we picked a house where there used to be a Boarders nearby, and the nearest Barnes & Noble is over a half and hour away and not near anything else.)

And this is my other Mashima shelf. Notice that it contains the final three volume omnibus. This is rare. That book is usually sitting on my desk so I can pick it up and flip through all the parts with Lucia while I’m on my computer.

The first 14 or so volumes of Rave Master were purchased used? I started that collection after they went out of print, but before new copies of most of the volumes became rare. My brother actually has up to volume 27 or so, but he stopped collecting the manga at the same time he went to college, and I wanted the last 8 under our roof, and I wanted them to all be in the same collection, but if I bought them for him as birthday presents or whatever when everyone knew he wouldn’t take them with him to his dorm, it would have been obvious I was really buying them for my satisfaction and that’s bad gift giving form. So I started saving my allowance to buying entire collection again, even though most of it was just down the hall from me.  ^_^;  Now that I love it even more than before and he’s about to move to another state, I feel a lot less silly for doing that.

He never reads his anymore, that I know of. I wonder if he’d be interested in putting it up online, since I see people looking for copies that are in at least okay quality, and he has most of the series…

We’re not so close anymore. I don’t know how I would go about asking that.

And this is my overflow shelf with more Mashima stuff on it, because I can’t fit it on two shelves. Some of the random-numbered Japanese volumes I have are probably going to be moved down here soon. (I also have only volume nine of Vampire Game, because… Because, I guess. Someone got me that one random volume and I never tried to track down the rest of the series.)

I really wanna get the other Mashima-en book, but I already have the one with Baum and I have to order them in French and they cost a lot more to ship so… I’m not sure that’s going to happen any time soon.

I have a fair amount of Dragon Ball and the entire original Yu-Gi-Oh manga too, which I’m not ashamed to admit because it’s way better than the 4kids dub and Yugi literally detonates explosives on a classmate over a spat about who gets to set up a booth near the school’s front gate during a fair. None of the GX/R stuff, though. Just up until Atem passes on and the original story ends.

anonymous asked:

I've improved my writing a lot, but that also makes it so that the stuff at the beginning of my book is pretty bad, and then all the stuff I'm writing now is a lot better. When I'm done with my first draft, do you have any advice for going back and fixing stuff? Because when I read all my older writing I get super unmotivated because it's not very good.

Scratch. I really recommend starting from scratch.

NOT ENTIRELY SCRATCH. Calm down, crazy, that’s a one way trip to “I never want to write again”-land. No, I’m talking about mental scratch, and after working down through your pages with this technique, you might have the fortitude to attempt literal scratch.

Do a really quick glance over the old chapter – in the time it takes for your “down” key to bring you past the page – and then try to visualize the scene you want/the scene it should have been in your head. Now come back to the top of the page and start writing. You might only get a paragraph out, but then you have a whole collection of words you can use as your base. This also doesn’t give you enough time (or reading time) to get discouraged. 

These are “what the rest of them should have been” words, so when you get lost in the fog of suckage, you can always come reference the proper, new material. Then just rinse and repeat as you go on, and cut anything you think is extra fluff.

Hope this helps. Happy writing!