because the post with this gif got a lot of likes for some reason

Ok so I’ve finally gotten around to doing this highly requested post based off this post and I’m sorry to all those who had been waiting for ages for it to come out but here it is!!!

How to Annotate a Novel Efficiently

Look I’m actually doing the play Medea at the moment so this can be used for other texts apart from novels too!

Like I’ve said before, I know lots of people don’t want to taint their texts with writing and highlighting, but to me, it is so so satisfying when I finish with a fully annotated book with tabs flying out of every page and all that, plus it acts as a sweet resource once it’s done.

((Hopefully by the time you’ve gotten around to this level of annotating, you’ve read through your text already and maybe even put down some initial thoughts in the margins.))

To put it simply, I have three levels of coordination when it comes to annotating a novel: words, tabs and sticky notes.

1. Sticky notes

  • Use for big chunks of text you can’t fit in the margins of your book, such as summaries of characters, themes, etc
  • They can also get those big chunks of info to stand out from the rest of the novel
  •  If you’re reading a larger text with chapters, it’s quite handy to use big sticky notes to summarise each section. 


2. Tabs (and highlighting)

  • Yep so these are the tabs I have sticking out of my book and they’re used for quick references, where I can easily search up a type of quote quickly in the novel without having to flip through every page.
  • The colours of the tabs I use are the same colours as my highlighters, so it is easy to see where the quote is and which tab it corresponds to.
  • ACTUALLY HIGHLIGHT the specific quote rather than leaving a tab there by itself, for future reference when you need a specific quote, but if you’ve got a massive chunk that is just too important to pick out a small quote, use a square bracket on the inside margin. Smaller quotes are better.
  • Have a tab for broad topics such as characters, themes, literary devices, plot developments, context, etc. If you have more colours, you can always make your categories more specific (for me, the character of Medea is separate to the rest of the characters)
  • I write the main idea on the tab itself, a.k.a. the reason why I highlighted or tabbed that quote there.
  • Which quotes to highlight depends on

a)     What we go through in class

b)     What is written as an important quote in the text guide we are given/the internet suggests

c)     What I think is important. If you’re not sure, ask yourself WHY is that quote important and if you can answer that, highlight it!!!

 

3. Words

  • The further explanation of quotes is written on the actual pages, and often right under a tab to elaborate.
  • I recommend using a thin pen as in 0.38 to really fit in as much as possible.
  • This step as well as tabbing is so so important, because you can highlight as much as you want, but it really won’t mean anything until you’ve written down its significance, and even if you have an amazing memory, this is vital ok. Even a few words along the margin explaining the quote can mean the difference between good writing and great writing in your upcoming essay.
  • What do I actually write? If it’s a literary device, I’ll name it (e.g. Metaphor) and explain its symbolism, or the author’s intention for putting that in. If it’s a theme related quote, I’ll explain the message that the author is trying to convey through that quote. If it’s a character related quote, I’ll explain how that quote adds to their character, maybe finding contrasts, etc.
  • Supplies that I used were:

- Mildliners (pink, orange, yellow, blue, aqua; gotta get that colour coding)

- Pilot Frixion Point

- Uni-ball Signo TSI (erasable like the frixion pen so that if I’m not too sure about what I’ve written as an annotation, I can check with the teacher and erase if need be)

- A set of 1000 tabs in total, divided among pink, orange, yellow, green and blue

- Pastel square sticky notes

As an optional step, I highly recommend making use of the back cover or spare pages in the book. I use them for writing definitions of recurring words, good vocabulary to use in the future when writing the essay and also character maps, explaining the relationship between each character.

I hope you all find this helpful!

((disclaimer: this is just how I do it so don’t shank me pls))

Kate xx

I finally got my shit together and managed to write a korean drama recommendation list. Under the cut below, I added a description of the dramas along with a short comment on what I thought about it. If you like my recommendation list, please like and/or reblog. it means a lot ♡

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Imagine mornings with Chris.

A/N: Hey hey, I told you there was no break. I hope you’re excited to read Chapter 5, ‘cause I’m really excited for y'all to read it! 😁 You can read the related mini-series and the previous parts here: (Mini-series - Masterlist; Mini-series Spin-off: ‘Unexpected Reader’, 'Little Ways Away’, 'She Said Yes’, and 'Miss Graduate’ - Masterlist)

Birds chirped outside the bedroom window as the sun rose over the horizon, arousing Chris from his sleep. He lifted his head and looked at the clock hanging on the wall, groaning when he realized it was only 6:03AM. His head fell back on his pillow and he turned towards you. Just as he was about to succumb to sleep again, he caught your pretty face in his sight and he decided he’d much rather watch you sleep. He tucked his hand under his face and smiled at the memory of how last night was spent. There was pizza by the fireplace while the two of you discussed and planned wedding details, and after- well, dessert, sweet kisses, and then some. It came as no surprise that things between the two of you when it came to romance and bedroom activities had doubled since you started planning the wedding; the post-engagement glow that had been put on the back burner had resurfaced now that the wedding was actually happening. Man, oh man, were things between you and Chris better than ever.

Chris reached his hand forward and gently pushed your hair out of your face, whispering softly, “not long now, Y/N.” He leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead before settling back in his original position, admiring his future bride with a great deal of satisfaction.

You woke shortly after he did due to his soft whispering and tender actions, you peeked at him and bit back your smile when you saw him smiling at you. “I know you’re my fiancé and you love me, but it doesn’t make waking up to your staring any less creepy.” You teased and he chuckled, turning onto his back with his head still facing you. “What time is it?” You asked mid yawn, stretching out your limbs.

“Time to get started on our day, I suppose.” He rested one hand on his chest and he yawned when he saw you yawn again. “Didn’t you say we’ve got wedding cakes to taste today?” He quizzed and you sighed, noising confirmation. “What’s with the sigh?” He chuckled. “We’re going to four of the best bakeries in Los Angeles to eat cake, all kinds of cake. If you ask me, I think it’s going to be a very yummy day.”

“I know it is,” you sighed again as you sat up. You remembered how excited you were when you told Chris about the cake tasting plans, you stomach practically growled when you saw the email responses from each bakery. But for some unknown reason, you weren’t excited now. In fact, just thinking about tasting cake- any kind of cake- made you feel like hurling. “But- I don’t know, Chris,” you turned back to him and he sat up, looking concerned. “I feel weird, I’m just-” you licked your dry lips. “I don’t really feel like cake.”

“That’s okay,” his hand rubbed your back soothingly. “You don’t have to eat much, just a bite of each.” As soon as he suggested that, you felt yourself make a face. Your mouth became dry and your cheeks and jaw sore, like it was preparing you to puke. “That is- um,” he chuckled then pursed his lips together at your expression. “That is not a face you want to see before you taste cakes.” Every time he said the word 'cake’, you felt your stomach churn. “Do you want me to call the bakeries and postpone the cake tasting?”

“Please stop saying the word 'cake’,” you begged as you were starting to feel a little lightheaded just thinking about what your day was going to be like. “And no, because we can’t postpone. We have so much to do and so little time, we can’t afford to lose this meeting. It’s already the middle of July, Chris, and we haven’t even gotten quarter of the way through the list. You haven’t even sorted out your wedding party, you’ve just got Scott and Sebastian so far.”

“To be fair, neither have you.” He pointed out then winced at your deadpan expression. “What? I’m just saying you’ve only got Ava as your maid of honor, so technically- I’m ahead by one person.” You grabbed your pillow and whacked him with it, making him laugh and yourself smile. “Relax, we’ve got plenty of time. On the bright side, our band is sorted already.” Your smile widened as you shook your head. That was such a tactic, every time you looked like you were about to flip out he’d remind you that, “Ed Sheeran is coming to sing for us” knowing very well it’d calm you.

“In my defense, I don’t have a lot of girl friends. I’ve got Ava, and Corrie- who’s living in Japan. She said she’ll attend the wedding, but she can’t be apart of the bridal party 'cause work has got her pretty tied up. Then there’s my brother’s ex-girlfriend, Isabelle, who I should have known better than to grow close with. It’s not like I can invite her to the wedding, do we want a huge cat fight between his ex and his current?” You asked then answered yourself, “no, we do not.” You ran a hand through your hair, wishing you could just have Ava and not a whole party. “Do you think Carly and Shanna would be apart of my bridal party if I asked?”

“Of course, baby. They love you and they’d be more than happy to be your bridesmaids.” He smiled when you smiled. “I’ll even let you have Tara if you want, I don’t need to get her to be a grooms-woman. I think she’d have a much better time with you ladies.” You smiled, kissing his cheek. “So relax, okay?” He took your hand and squeezed it. “Bridal party or not, we’re still going to get married. And if things get too chaotic, we do what Jim and Pam did in The Office. Okay?”

“Okay,” you giggled.

“Okay,” he chuckled and pulled his hand away, climbing out of bed. “I’m going to go get cleaned up first so I can sort Dodger’s breakfast out while you do your thing, then we can head out for the day.  I think we can skip breakfast considering you look like you can barely handle a bite of cake.” You nodded in agreement as he headed for the ensuite. “Okay then,” he glanced back at you, smiling. “We’ve got our game plan, now let’s hustle.”

“I can’t do anything until you finish up in there,” you reminded him, laying back down.

“I know, but don’t fall asleep,” he teasingly warned before he closed the ensuite door behind him.

The second the shower started running, he started singing. You smiled, letting your eyelids close. But before you could let yourself drift off, Dodger came barreling in and pounced on you. “Dodger!” You laughed when he licked your face. “Oh my God, stop!” You squirmed under him, laughing hysterically as he continued to attack your face with kisses. “Oh bud,” you ran a hand over his head, smiling when he stopped to look at you with a tilted head. “Aren’t you a romantic? Giving me kisses so early in the morning.”

Dodger barked in your face, causing you to flinch then laugh. He settled in front of you and gently rested his head on your belly. You smiled and stroked his fur, from his head to his tail. He was a handsome one, that boy, and such a sweet and protective fella; much like Chris. You sat up and leaned forward, kissing the top of his head. Chris came out of the steamy bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, smiling when he saw you and Dodger.

“Forgot my underwear,” he told you then was about to walk over to scratch Dodger’s head when Dodger lifted his head and growled at him. “Whoa, bud,” he stopped in his tracks and held up his hands in surrender. “What’s with him?” He asked you and you shrugged with furrowed brows, kissing Dodger’s head as he settled his head back on your belly. “I see how it is, a pretty girl comes into our lives and you turn on me?” You laughed, playing with Dodger’s ears. “Fine, be that way. Don’t come to me when you want to go on a run, she won’t take you running.”

“I can take him walking,” you defended your distaste of running. “Can’t I, bud?” You cooed in Dodger’s face and he licked your cheek. “Don’t be jealous, babe.” You teased Chris when he squinted at the both of you evilly. “You know we’ve got love in our hearts for you, slightly deeper down.” You laughed when he rolled his eyes, walking back into the ensuite and closing the door behind him. “He’s such a baby,” you whispered into Dodger’s ear, giggling. “I am so glad I’ve got you, I wouldn’t know how to handle him on my own.”

Dodger nudged his nose into your hand and you smiled, scratching his head. You loved Dodger as much as you loved Chris, sometimes more than you loved Chris because he’d never do anything to annoy or piss you off. Chris knew this and he used Dodger to his advantage when he got into fights with you, tying notes to Dodger’s collar and sending him to find you. It was pretty cute and you always cracked after seeing Dodger’s adorable face. But then again, it didn’t take long for you to crack at Chris’ adorable face either. You were weak when it came to those two, just like Chris was weak when it came to the two of you.

It would be interesting to see what would happen when the time came for the two of you to become parents. You always saw yourself as the bad cop to Chris’ good cop when you wrote, you both agreed he’d be a pushover when your first child came along. Be it a little man or a little princess- he’d waited too long for a child to be strict with him or her. You’d most likely have to be the one to do the disciplining, though knowing your soft heart- you wouldn’t be able to be the strict and authoritative parent you’d imagined yourself to be. But that was a long way down the road, not something either of you had to worry about now. Now, the only child you had to worry about was your fiancé because even Dodger was more mature than Chris. Chris, who was once again walking out of the steamy bathroom with just a towel, because he’d realized the pair of underwear he’d taken was yours and not his.

“Nice hair,” you commented, trying not to laugh at Chris’ wet and deliberately spiked up hair; the kind of hairstyle you’d do to a two year old when you gave them a bath. He winked and reentered the bathroom, closing the door behind him again. “So much more mature,” you chuckled into Dodger’s fur when you gave him another kiss.

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @imaginesofdreams  @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @heartblackerthancoffee @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @dreamingintheimpalawithdean  @rileyloves5 @buckys-shield @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @castellandiangelo  @edward-lover18 @yourenotrogers @im-a-fandom-slut @royalexperiment256 @palaiasaurus64 @tacohead13 @badassbaker @pegasusdragontiger @sfreeborn @dorisagent101 @aekr @imagine-cats96 @adeptkillsyasse @shliic @justanotherfangurlz @winchesterandpie @creativeheartgemini @camerica96 @thestarlighthotel @sf0206 (I’ve kept the original taglist which I will utilize when I’m back on one shots, but seeing as I’m working on the series now- I’ll just be tagging those I notice follow the series. Let me know if I left you out and I’ll add you back in.)


Part 2

CHAPTER ONE: THE WOLF WITH SILVER EYES | MASTERLIST

Summary: 30 years have past since the last wolf attack in the town of Havensboro; after a gruesome wolf murder, you and your curious friends go on a hunt to find it, only to find yourself stranded and coming face to face by a wolf with silver eyes.

A/N: Hello! I’ve decided to drop this right on you all out of nowhere because I’m beyond excited to start posting and I’ve finally finished writing it! It’s going to be ten parts and I truly hope you all enjoy the au! I’ve decided it’ll be up ever mo(o)nday, so enjoy! Feedback is welcomed :)

Warning: Mentions of murder

Word Count: 4.2K+


The sound of heavy rain mixed with strong wind echoed throughout the streets, trees rustling as fallen leaves flowed and crashed into its surroundings. The night sky lit up with bright streaks of lightening after a roaring thunder vibrated against the nearby buildings and houses. In the distance, a long howl was heard, vibrating through the preserve as the neighborhood dogs barked. Rushing past the towering trees that blocked off the surrounding city, a lone wolf sprinted. With the mixture of heavy panting along with paws stomping along the muddy ground beneath it, an echo of footsteps followed behind.

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we started this blog on july 17th, 2016 and today marks nakamotens’ one year anniversary!! time flies and we feel like we’ve both come so far ;; honestly, when we both started this blog we didn’t think we’d stan nct this much!! the only reason we made a blog together was because we didn’t think we’d be able to commit to running a blog on our own… and look where we are one year later :^)

so we just wanted to thank you guys!! to our mutuals, our followers and people who reblog our stuff, we’re just really grateful for everything ;; within just one year we’ve gained 16.7k and while we don’t want to focus on numbers too much, we want to thank each and every one of you for welcoming us into the fandom and for making our experience a fun and memorable one!

we did want to do something special for you guys but couldn’t really think of anything rip… but our requests are always open!! and under the cut we’ve included messages to some of our friends + blogs that we really admire ; _ ;

again, thank you guys so much!! we’ve had an incredible year and maybe we’ll even last for another one~ we hope you’re all doing well too, remember to drink lots of water and get lots of rest!!! we love you guys ♡

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Imagine you and Chris telling your families you’re having another baby.

A/N: Hello, my darlings. Since the only request I’ve received since I posted the update was about the series, I’ve decided to close my inbox and get back on the mini-series bandwagon. My holiday is nearing and I want to leave y'all on a good note, so I’m bringing back the domestic fluff pieces. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them. I’m titling this one ‘Charlotte Rose’ for a reason, you’ll find out later in the series. Anyway, enjoy Part 1. Read previous parts here: ('Drunk Minds, Sober Hearts’, 'Baby Fever’, 'Memory Lane’, and 'Little Ones’ - Masterlist.) Lots of love. X

You and Chris laughed and held the phone away from your ears as Lisa cheered excitedly at your news of her having another grandchild. You’d called her first because you weren’t going to see her until Christmas, whereas you were stopping by your parents’ place later to drop Jack off so you and Chris could finish your Christmas shopping; it was a little hard to shop for Jack’s presents with him around. You and Chris shared a smile after looking over at your son, who was adorably coloring on the dining table. You still couldn’t believe that this time next year he’d have a little sister or brother with him. God, you were praying for a girl; you definitely didn’t want to have a third to pacify the men in your household.

“Ma,” Chris chuckled into the phone as he wrapped an arm around you, grinning as happily as his mom probably was. You kissed his jawline, smiling, because you were happy your husband was happy; he deserved all the happiness in the world. “I know you’re very excited, but you’re kind of hurting our eardrums.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just so happy for the both of you.” You could both hear the smile in Lisa’s voice which made the smiles you had on your faces grow even wider. “When Scott told me that the two of you were trying for another baby, I thought he was just messing with me-”

“Wait, what?” You interrupted her, chuckling. “Scott told you we were trying for another baby?” You asked her then turned to look at Chris; you tried not to laugh when he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well- Scott was not messing with you,” you lied because you couldn’t tell her that it was a happy accident. “We just thought we’d kept it a secret until we got some results.”

“Oh darling, I’m so happy right now,” she told you and you smiled when Chris kissed your hair. “I bet everyone else will be thrilled too when they hear about it. Thank you for calling, I don’t think I could’ve waited until Christmas to find out. Best early Christmas present ever,” she commented.

“Hey, that’s what I said,” Chris pointed out and chuckled when the both of you laughed. “Okay, Ma. We’ll see you on Christmas Day.” Lisa noised confirmation. “Love you,” you both said simultaneously then hung up after hearing her reciprocate that love. “Nice to know she’s as excited as us.”

“I don’t think anyone could be more excited than you, sweetheart,” you cupped his chin in your hands and drew him down to meet your lips for a sweet kiss. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Yup,” you chuckled softly as you hugged him back, running your hands up and down his back. “No one’s more excited than you.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” Chris told you as he pulled away.

“I know, baby,” you smiled, brushing his bearded cheek with your thumb.

“I don’t think you do,” he shook his head, smiling. “I love you,” he repeated and you chuckled. “Like I am head-over-heels, you’ve-ruined-me-for-other-women, I’ll-never-love-again-if-you-leave-me in-love with you.” You laughed and pecked his smiling lips before walking over to Jack. “I’m serious, Y/N,” he called after you and you nodded in acknowledgment, chuckling.

“C'mon, buddy,” you held out your hand for Jack to take; he looked up at you, eyes curious. “You gotta change out of your pajamas before you can go to Grandma and Granddad’s. C'mon,” you urged when he pouted. He lowered his crayon and carefully climbed off the chair, taking the hand you were holding out. “You can wear your new blue sweater.”

“Oh yay!” He jumped up and down excitedly; you and Chris laughed softly. “I like that sweater, it’s so soft and fluffy and blue!” He took the reins and pulled you along as you both headed upstairs to get him changed; Dodger followed behind as he’d grown very attached to Jack.

Chris remained downstairs, packing Jack’s things up so he could take it with him to your parents’ place. He smiled when he saw what Jack was drawing and coloring; a family portrait much like the one he drew a while ago, but this time, there was an additional body. He felt his stomach flutter with excitement at the thought of another child in his life. His life was complete when you walked into it, there was no doubt about that. But with each passing year- with each milestone the two of you saw and accomplished together- it became more wholesome. He packed Jack’s things into his Mickey Mouse backpack then headed upstairs to get changed himself. 

• • • • • • • • 

“You’re pregnant!” Your mom squealed as she threw her arms around you and Chris; it was hard because she was very short compared to you and your husband. “That’s amazing! Oh my God, talk about an amazing early Christmas present.” You and Chris shared a smile and chuckled softly under your breaths. “I’m so happy right now, congratulations!”

“I’m going to have a sister!” Jack called from the living room where he was sitting and having your mom’s famous peanut shortbread while watching a Christmas classic, 'Elf’. You all turned away from Jack to meet each others’ gazes; your parents’ eyes widened with excitement, asking a wordless question “you’re having a girl?”

“We don’t know yet,” you shook your head, smiling.

“But we’re really hoping it’s a girl,” Chris nodded, smiling.

“It’s easier to have a girl than it is to have a boy,” your mom told the two of you.

“Yeah,” your dad nodded in agreement. “We wanted another boy after your brother, but we got you instead.” He joked and you scoffed, whereas Chris and your mom laughed. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. You know you’re my favorite daughter.”

“I’m your only daughter,” you countered with an eye roll.

“For a reason,” he booped your nose and you chuckled. “I knew no child would surpass my precious girl so we stopped trying after you. Take the compliment, kid.” You rolled your eyes again, but with a smile this time around.

“Whatever the reason may be,” Chris began as he wrapped an arm around you. “I’m just glad you brought her into this world 'cause I don’t know where I’d be without her.” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

“Right,” you smiled and kissed him. 

• • • • • • • • 

“Ugh,” you groaned as Chris passed you your hot chocolate. “This means I’m back on the no caffeine wagon.” He chuckled and wrapped an arm around you, sipping his double shot latte. “How am I going to get any writing done without coffee?” You took a sip, smiling when the hot liquid warmed your belly.

“How does anyone get anything done without coffee?” He quizzed you rhetorically, like you’d with him. “You sleep, sweetheart,” he answered and you chuckled. “I’m not going anywhere this time, I’m going to go through this entire pregnancy with you. I’ll look after Jack, make sure you have all the rest you need so you can work. Though I’d appreciate it if you don’t stress too much, I don’t want any harm to come to you or the baby.”

“Of course not,” you smiled and placed a hand over your belly. He smiled at you then turned to look at the window displays of the shops you were walking past. “It’s weird, Chris,” you began and he turned back to you; your hand was still over your belly. “I’m actually really excited about having another child.”

“How is that weird?” He chuckled. “You’ve clearly always wanted kids of your own, I saw it when you held Jack for the first time.” You felt yourself smile at the memory of holding your son for the first time. “Like Luca said, your job as a waitress ruined your for other children. I mean- if I had to wait on bratty children all day, I wouldn’t want kids either.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I don’t know, I feel like it’s because of you that I want children.” You told him and kissed his jawline when he smiled. “Honestly, without you being you- having children wouldn’t even cross my mind. I’d be perfectly contented working and traveling and just hanging out with my brothers’ kids.”

“And without you, I wouldn’t want kids either.” He admitted and you shot him a 'yeah, right’ look. “I’m serious,” he chuckled, tightening his hold on you. “I can’t imagine having to do all this with someone else, there is no one I’d rather do this whole parenting thing with.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Evans,” you told him and planted another tender kiss on his jawline.

Chris smiled because he loved it when you did that; it was a simple but incredibly affectionate act, one he would never get sick of. You were just someone he would never get sick of, and he was so glad he met you and you agreed to marry him.

“Oh my God!” You gasped and pulled away from him, rushing towards the window display that had the cutest penguin light fixture. “Chris,” you said in a 'we-have-to-get-it’ tone as you looked back at him, pointing at it.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he nodded as he walked over to join you, taking your hand in his. “You’ve already given me everything I want,” he smiled as he drew your hand to his lips. “The least I can do is get you this adorable penguin.”

“I love you so much,” you chuckled.

“I know,” he smiled, squeezing your hand.

Tags: @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello @chrisevans-imagines @letterstomyself21 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @sammyrenae68 @brobrobreja (I know y’all didn’t actually ask me to add you to the tag list, but I know y’all follow the series so…I took it upon myself. If you want to be removed, just let me know.)


Part 2 will be here soon. 😊

🐧.  SOBS, lol. Seriously though started RPing Ramsay in B.C — jk it was actually in :August 5th, 2016    <– that my FIRST Ramsay blog was made. This Ramsay blog is the third but been rping as Ramsay since Aug 5th, 2016. Like cooool. right? The more you know *rainbow sign*.

You all have no idea how thankful I am to have you all in my life :’) !! You’re all fantastic human beings who bring SO MUCH LIFE & SO MUCH BEAUTY ON THE DASH, with that A+ writing and muse of yours. Such quality blogs that I follow & that follow me, such delight. Let me just say how honored I am to have you all in my life. Maybe I don’t roleplay with half of you. ( but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your muse or your threads or wonder how would our interactions be. )

And the ones I’ve been roleplaying with, or just started roleplaying with. I am so, so thankful for all our, ( long threads/ short threads/ random asks/ memes/ crack —- I enjoy it all from you slayers. ) You’re all bunch of special snowflakes, okay? Each and every one of you bring something different on the dash. You all bring creative stories I enjoy reading every time it’s on the dash. You breathe life into your character. Not all Ramsay’s/ Jon’s/ Sansa’s —- or Cersei’s are the same. And there is NOTHING wrong with that. If you put your heart and soul into your writing and muse, trust me. People will love it, & they do. I know I do. And this goes out to all the different fandoms I follow! Like you’re all just admirable. And should be proud of your portray on your muse(s). Those who have been with me since the very beginning ( from my old Ramsay blog to here. ) - Thank you for STILL being here and standing by my side and supporting my widdo flaya, Ramsay Bolton. :’) You have no idea how much I love this muse. He’s really, — something.

Shoutout to the G.O.T fandom for being one of a kind!! For standing up for one another, we’ve had some tough times, and we’ve survived it all. I am honestly SO THANKFUL for this fandom. And I don’t regret joining it. Made friends, close friends & a best friend. ( just — met a lot of people who mean the world to me, and still getting to know a lot of new people who are already unique gems. )

Shoutout to W.W.E fandom: I have some old roleplaying partners that are following me on this blog. People who meant/ and still mean a lot to me :’) !! People who I roleplayed with, in the stone age. When giant gifs were a thing, only one type of font. No icons, no fancy blog. Honestly, I love you all who followed me on this blog, we’ve watched each other grow :’) !! sobs. okay.

I love you all so much. ♥️  I hope I get to continue enjoying that flawless muse of your, all your threads and you ( the muns. ) You don’t understand how honor I am to just be able to call you my friends, rping partners — fellow followers. And I thank you for sticking by my side since day one.

I am grateful for every one of you. Honestly : Now moving on to where I thank you all: Also it’s gonna get long for a few of y’all CAUSE I am MUSHY AS FUCK. These are to all those who I appericate : If I forgot a few I am sorry.


TO ALL THE FLAYERS I ADMIRE // WANT TO GET TO KNOW // ADORE FROM AFAR —:

@adunxphel // @agirlingrey // @applesrose // @ashenkiing // @asmyladymcther // @aureatehand // @badasshybridqueen // @bastardsbcy // @benjenstcrk // @boltonxblood // @born-to-be-admired // @breakercfchains // @cantfrightenme  // @clownpriince // @comellly // @corcillum // @darkdwelled // @davosshorthand // @distrcss // @dreadlcrd // @emberwraith // @fcrgottenone // @feastforthecrown // @fidelisursa // @fifthbornforrester // @finalpetal // @fircbride // @firefclt // @flame-of-ostwick // @foreignaccent // @fuckthekiing // @fuckthewildfire // @fyrsol // @godveiined // @greyenvy // @halvbjorn // @handofhonor // @ircnbcrn // @joydolorous // @kcnnelisms // @kingslaying // @ladiesofstillhaven // @lil-mxnster // @littlealinabolton // @lolotoituaiga // @longmayshereign-cersei // @lordofthewatch // @louvereine // @maimedlion // @mischiefiisms // @motherofwolvcs // @motherstarkling // @nctyourlady // @needlcd // @neitherknightnorlady // @northernvengeance // @ofgoldenwit // @ofpalletown // @ofturncloak // @ofwolvesblood // @onceasmuggler // @onceporcelain // @opposes // @ornxry // @palewhisper  // @qceenmother // @queenlyreign // @queenofhartsxo // @rcseheir // @rcsemaiden // @rcsethcrn // @rcver // @reekcd // @reneexpaquette // @royalsadist // @rubyarmoured // @sansavis // @scatterbraincd // @scsnaak // @secxndstark // @sermountain // @shamanvladek // @shewasdornish // @sihnons // @singlesighted // @showmaxter // @soldier306 // @sonslayed // @sovietghoul // @starhaze // @sunderedforce // @technogod // @tethereddivine // @theblackcraven // @thecodekeeper // @thelostwildwolf // @thesellsword // @thewhxtewclf // @thrones-of-a-game // @timelordcurse // @trystcne // @txrmundgiantsbane // @unburntxqueen // @unscorchedqueen // @unseenmockingjay // @valyarys // @vezosdarilaros // @waspromised // @wildlingfire // @wildwclf // @wintercrowned // @winterswhcre // @withanarmy // @wolfdreamt // @wolfsouled // @worshipsonlydeath // @zaldrizesx // @zaldrizotala // @zokliitsos // @forgedweapon // @themanyvoiices // @liiberum  // @astatheloner // @yngwolfrobb & @kisscdbyfire

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HEYO STAR WARS FAM! it’s me, calling from the other side. Lmao, I am so funny, rip. ANYWAY, there has been a LOT of negativity in the fandom lately and meanwhile, I am more than HAPPY that I do not have any part in it, I do see some of it on my dash. It makes me SAD &&. makes me think about how we used to be ( wow, cheesy ) when I joined, the fandom wasn’t like THIS but well, time never stops ( *fight the urge to athlete student meme this —* ). So, I know, I know - this post won’t change ANYTHING but I just wanted to do something to maybe cheer us all up a little. Negativity should not take over a fandom and should not be the reason people neglect their blogs. Have your Clique, have your faves as long as YOU feel comfortable because THAT is all that matters. And now, something bright &&. nice so yes, under the cut are some Positive Callouts!! happy reading and spread the positive vibes! 

xoxo Antonia

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Just Lena’s silly bias follow forever

I know the gif is really silly but asdfghjkl let me live

Wowie zowie i can’t believe this!
I was going to do this when i hit 150 but a lot of stuff came up and i didn’t have the time to do this. But seeing it go up to 200 blew my mind. Thank yall so much! Me and Jyushimatsu are so very happy that we have so many people to interact with! This is just something small to thank yall for dealing with me and my idiot little JyuJyu bean! It’s bias i have to admit considering there aren’t a lot of people i talk to but sure as hell would like to talk to everyone else!!! 

here’s all the mushy stuff under the cut!

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Down To New Orleans

gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns

Pairing: Pride x Reader (featuring Gibbs, McGee, and Tony)

Word Count: 1,071

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to post this before Irma because this one needed to be. It wasn’t requested, but it is for a friend. I hope you guys enjoy! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated. I also left it hanging, just in case you want more ;)

It was nice to have Pride working on a case with your team in D.C..  You were given the chance to see your boyfriend, Dwayne Pride.  Neither of you had much time away from your jobs, but somehow the two of you made your relationship work.  During the holidays you would take a trip down to New Orleans to visit Pride.  Unfortunately there weren’t many opportunities to visit him since new years.  Recent events made you reluctant to take any kind of vacation.

“Hey [Y/N],” Tony called from his desk.  He threw a paper ball at your computer.  He couldn’t gain your attention without gaining McGee’s as well.  “How are things with Supervisory Special Agent Dwayne Pride?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.  “Things are fine Tony,” you said, your lips falling into a flat line.

“Well it can’t be easy to have a relationship with our line of work,” Tony reasoned, tilting his head slightly to the side.

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Maybe there’s a reason we don’t see Stiles without a shirt. Maybe there’s a reason his Mom thought that small!Stiles was trying to kill her. Maybe there’s a reason why Stiles still isn’t great at lacrosse. Maybe there’s a deeper reason why Stiles & Scott became such good friends so young. Maybe there’s a reason why hardly anything is mentioned about Stiles prior to the death of his mother. Maybe there is another explanation for the heart in the fresco.

Maybe IT’S THE SAME REASON.

Ready?

Stiles Stilinski had a heart transplant.

Your Mind, My Heart…

Stiles was born with a heart defect. As a very small child, he was limited to mostly indoor physical activity. He couldn’t keep up with the other kids, so his Mom would send him with books to read during outside time in pre-school and kindergarten. His friend Scott liked to read with him, too. Scott has trouble breathing. He thinks Stiles does too, and that’s ok: he’s learned that if he says his heart doesn’t work, people don’t let him do anything at all. Stiles likes to pretend to Be Dad. His Dad would give him simple versions of observation games the department taught to new Deputies and even tried to teach him a bit of military strategy & tactics from those handful of years in the Army. Stiles would read while he ate, then go outside and give the books to Scott. Then Stiles would sit and watch his schoolmates play, trying to train his brain. He knew he wouldn’t be able to run or play like his peers or be a cop like Dad, but if he worked on his education he could still do something important when he grew up. If he works hard enough maybe he can put people like Scott’s dad in jail. Stiles knows what happened at Scott’s house and it makes him angry.

Stiles watches. Stiles remembers. More importantly, Stiles notices.

Mom was getting worse, his own chest hurt more often and his Dad was sad all the time. One day, Stiles was waiting outside of his Mom’s room at the hospital and saw them wheel the nurse’s kid to the elevator. He looked tired and scared with an oxygen mask on his face. Stiles frowned, Nice Nurse Melissa was….well, nice, unlike Mean Melissa at Admissions, and her son Scott was a great friend…or would be when Mom gets better and Scott’s asthma calms down. Then Dad is calling, “Son? Your Mom and I are done with the Doctor, you can come in now.” Stiles hopped up and joined his parents. A little while later, a man came in and took blood from Mom, then took blood from Stiles. He piped up, “Mom and I have the same blood, AB!” For some reason, Dad and Mom both started crying when he said that. The man gave Stiles one of those lollipops with a weird string handle, patted his head and said something about Anti-Jims as he left. Stiles wondered if Anti-Jims were the reason his heart hurt and Mom’s brain was so tired. He said so out loud, then Dad pulled him into an awkward but fierce 3-way hug. Mom kisses his forehead. “Our Stiles, love. You always said he’s got your mind and my heart.” The hug grows even more fierce as all the Stilinskis in Beacon Hills cry together.

Mom was getting worse. It had been almost two years since her first stay in the Hospital, the last six months of which she’d spent in BHMH. Dad and Stiles couldn’t take care of her at home anymore, she kept wandering off or attacking them for no reason. After they put her into the hospital full-time, she started saying that Stiles was trying to kill her, that he wanted to rip her heart out. Worse were the days the nurses would have to restrain her because she’d ripped off her IVs and clawed deep, jagged, bloody gouges into her own chest. One evening, they found Stiles cowering in the shower, his small hands covered in her blood. Through blue lips and gasping for breath, he told Nice Nurse Melissa how he’d tried to stop Claudia but wasn’t strong enough. She hugged him gently, washed his hands while he drew deep on the oxygen mask and whispered Mom-sounding things as he drifted off to sleep. When Stiles woke up he found the Peanut Butter Cups that Scott had gently placed into his jacket pocket. Maybe they’ll finally get to hang out more soon, Stiles thinks as he pops the first cup into his mouth. He saves the second one for later.

Stiles was getting worse. His chest hurt more often now, for longer periods, and he had an oxygen tank at home. He slept a lot more, too. It was just more time for nightmares and terrifying visions of all types. He hated it. He forces himself to stay awake for long periods of time. He doesn’t get to spend time with Scott, he doesn’t go to school regularly. He hears his Dad on the phone talking about donors and test results. Dad sounds scared.
His entire life revolves around the hospital.

He’s in Mom’s room reading out loud to her when she suddenly gasps and looks over at him. Stiles jumps up, startled. This is the first time in weeks Mom is actually *looking* at him like she sees him.

“Mom?”
She smiles, weak but radiant. “Stiles…”
His name is the last thing he ever hears her say.

He vaguely remembers pushing the emergency button when she stopped breathing. After he was hustled out of her room, Stiles sat in the waiting area. His book bag was still in the room, he was worried and bored and tired and didn’t know what to do. He asked Melissa for some juice, but she looked guilty and said he couldn’t have any right now. Sighing, he put his head between his hands and waited for Dad to arrive. He hears a whisper, “Our Stiles…my heart.” He squeezes his eyes shut.

It was all a blur after that. Dad ran in, hugged him and then followed Melissa into Mom’s room. He notices that Dad has blood on his hands. Whatever happened, Dad looks sad but not afraid. Stiles rubs at his eyes, exhausted from it all. Then Dad picked him up and got into the elevator with a couple of doctors. The doctors help get Stiles straightened out in his own room, and he doesn’t fight or argue. He’s numb and tired and now Dad looks like he’s about to cry. Another doctor comes in and tells Stiles that they have a new heart for him. Stiles tells his Dad and doctor both, “Will you tell Mom? She’ll be so happy…” trailing off as the doctor looks sharply at Dad and the chart, and falls completely silent when he is pulled quickly into his Dad’s chest.

He realizes later that the heart is hers.
Was hers.
Will always be hers.

Stiles recovers in record time. He’s energetic again, even more than before. He goes back to school and goes back to spending most of his time with Nice Nurse Melissa’s son Scott. They grow up in the usual fashion and start high school. He goes out for lacrosse with Scott on a whim, thinking it’ll be good for both of them to get a bit of exercise but ends up liking it more than he’d care to admit. Stiles has good checkups from his cardiologist and keeps his transplant a secret from everyone. He swore Melissa to secrecy shortly after the operation and she agreed to never tell Scott. She understands Stiles more than most. At school he avoids the Trainers and nurse, he doesn’t take his shirt off where anyone can see, he never talks about his Mom. In all of Beacon Hills, only a handful of people know about his heart and it’s going to stay that way.

Then as luck would have it, Scott is Bitten and everything goes to hell in a handbasket. When Stiles finds out that werewolves can hear heartbeats, he screams silently and tamps down the panic rising along with his curly fries from dinner. Is there a difference in his? Can they tell? He feels fiercely possessive of those beats. Her beats. He clenches his fists angrily until he feels his temples and wrists throbbing. Suddenly all the fight pours out of him, the pulse at his temple like a gentle kiss and pressure at wrists a reassuring squeeze from Her. It doesn’t matter, and since none of them say anything, he guesses his secret is safe.

Sometimes when he can’t sleep he’ll try to be still and quiet enough to hear it beat. Tries to pretend he’s pushing his ear to her ribs again, listening to the oceanic pulse of her blood as they cuddle together.

He can’t and he isn’t and he’s lonely.

“Baby It’s Cold Outside” Draco Malfoy Imagine

A/N: sorry this took so long to post, requests are still open

~~~~~

You were in Hogsmeade with Blaise, Draco, and Pansy. It was snowing really heavily and after being dragged through Knockturn alley (100% Draco’s idea), Blaise pulled you all into the Three Broomsticks. You all sat down at one of the booths, Draco next to you on one side, Pansy on the other and Blaise next to Pansy.

For some reason the Three Broomsticks was having a Karaoke day, you thought it was because of the Christmas Break starting tomorrow, but you weren’t sure. They were playing a lot of muggle Christmas songs, to which you and your friends rolled your eyes at. Madam Rosmerta had announced that everyone who walked through the door was automatically entered to sing one of the many horrible Christmas songs. She did say however that people could volunteer for certain songs if they wanted. You groaned just knowing that there was a chance of you having to sing.

You were able to ignore the pitchy, off tone singing, thankfully, and just enjoy the few butterbeers you and your friends were having. Draco had drank at least four by the time you were finished your first and he was getting noticeably tipsy. He also started not so subtly moving closer towards you, which you didn’t exactly mind, but drunk Draco was making it extremely awkward. Blaise was the first to notice and he kept laughing at you both.

Draco momentarily left to go to the bathroom, excusing himself rather politely given how hammered he was getting. When Draco was out of eyesight Blaise finally asked you what he was thinking since you sat down,
“When are you and Draco going to snog then?” You choked on the butterbeer you were currently drinking then placed the glass back on the coaster before looking up at Blaise. You searched his face for a sign that he was joking but he seemed completely serious. How could he think that, you and Draco were just friends, not like you and Pansy or you and Blaise but still, you were…. just friends.

“What are you on about?” You laughed him off, noticing the glares you were receiving from Pansy.

“Come off it (y/n), its so obvious how much you two like each other” You didn’t have time to answer as Draco pranced back over and sat down again.

“Did you miss me?” Draco asked the whole table as he gave his cocky smirk.

“(Y/N) more than anyone probably” Blaise replied. Draco was about to answer him but was interrupted.

“Next up, we’ll have a duet of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside.’ Singing it will be…” Madam Rosmerta paused while reading the two names. “Draco Malfoy and (y/n) (y/l/n)” the whole place went silent as everyones eyes turned to you and Draco, heat rising in your cheeks as you had no desire to sing, and a stupid smirk playing on Draco’s face. He jumped to his feet, pulling you up with him with one sharp jolt. Pansy shot you daggers as Draco pulled you over to the microphones.

You were sure the only reason Draco was doing this was because of how drunk he was, little did you know, that instead of going to the bathroom like he said, he actually volunteered you both. He somehow knew the song.

The music started and you lazily sang along until Draco 'lightly’ nudged you. You looked at him, surprised that he was actually enjoying this. You started singing more enthusiastically, matching his energy. He was actually a really good singer, and you couldn’t understand why he didn’t sing more often.

When it got to the line Draco was to sing “i’ll hold your hand” he grabbed your hand tightly in his, again taking you by surprise. You could hear Blaise and some of the other Slytherins whistle at you. You moved your head so as to not make eye contact with him although you kept singing together, Draco not letting go of your hand. Quickly after came “My father will start to worry” which you sang perfectly while laughing. At least three Slytherins shouted immediately “My father will hear about this” before letting you continue with the song. You saw Draco’s jaw tighten, glaring at the rather large audience you both had attracted, but it quickly returned to normal when he looked back at you. You were still looking away though, heat continuing to rise in your cheeks.

It soon got to the line “Your eyes are like stars right now” Draco removed his hand from yours and lifted your head to look directly at his. He winked at you and smiled, a genuine smile that you had only seen one or two times before.
“Your hair looks swell” he sang as he moved his hand from your face and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. You were still gazing into each others eyes though, neither of you daring to look away first.

“Gosh your lips look delicious” he glanced down at your lips, then slowly looked back up to your eyes. You smirked at him, still singing, but still not breaking eye contact. His hand travelled back down your arm and interlocked with yours again. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach but refused to let it show, so you kept singing, trying also to mask the redness of your cheeks.

The song was going to end soon and you could tell Draco was disappointed. You both ended on “Baby it’s cold outside.” You finished the song and Draco once again glanced at your lips. You bit your lower lip in response and he leaned in closer. You followed his lead and moved your head towards his. Your lips were millimetres away from each other and you weren’t sure of this was actually happening or if it was just a dream. Draco was thinking the same though.

You closed your eyes as he did and as your soft lips touched his, you melted into each others arms. You lips moved perfectly in sync with each other as he gripped onto your hair and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You could taste the butterbeer from his lips and could feel him smirk against you. He bit down on your lower lip slightly and was about to move onto your neck when all too soon you were interrupted,

“Okay. That was a very nice duet, you may take your seats now!” Madam Rosmerta firmly shooed you back to your table. Draco slipped his hand into your as you took your seats again.

“When i asked when you were going to snog, i didn’t mean i wanted to see it” Blaise said half jokingly. Pansy however wouldn’t even look at you and instead focused her attention on Madam Rosmerta. You laughed uncomfortably at Blaise’s remark and took another sip of the butterbeer you left earlier. Once you put it down, Draco swiftly put his arm around you and gently pulled you towards him. You lightly leaned your head on his shoulder and continued talking with him, Blaise and sometimes Pansy for another hour or so before heading back to the castle. Not at any point were you and Draco not making some form of contact.

Blogger Blues (Ben Bruce) (Asking Alexandria)

Word Count: 879

Y/N

You were a pretty popular music blogger and had a successful YouTube channel that was centred around your love of music and video games. There was nothing more you loved to do than attend concerts of your favourite bands, but luck had dealt you a crappy hand when you tried to get tickets to see Asking Alexandria but they mysteriously all sold out. This never happened to you and you were upset because they were your favourite band of all time, it may have started because you had a crush on Ben but as the years passed it became all about their music and lyrics.

You open up a new blog post on your site and decide to update your readers, they loved hearing your funny concert stories but this week they’d have to do without. It was a pretty simple post explaining that the tickets were sold out and you were upset because they were your favourite band etcetera, but it served its purpose to get all your negative feelings out.

BEN

For some strange reason my social media had been blowing up all day, yes being in a band meant I got my fair share of Twitter notifications but my phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. I had enough and excused myself from the tour bus much to the relief of the guys who had threatened to break my phone if I got one more notification.

As I scrolled through the hundreds of notifications I recognised who my followers were tweeting about. y/n was well known in the band world, she’d done interviews and YouTube videos with other band members but never with Asking Alexandria because the work schedules always seemed to clash. Her blog was quite an amusing read because she didn’t hold back; it was safe to say I was a fan of hers and knew that she liked the band.

Multiple tweets mentioned her most recent blog post and how she wasn’t able to get tickets to see us perform tonight and that I should do something because I was Ben Bruce. I could easily get her a backstage pass and it would be a great excuse to meet her in person, her Fifa videos had all the guys in stitches and they’d thank me later.

Y/N

You normally ignored your Twitter DMs but something told you to read the one that just made your phone ping. You weren’t expecting anything grand until your eyes landed on the sender and you let out an inhuman noise and started jumping around your living room. Thankfully you lived alone so could freak out without your parents telling you to be quiet. Ben Bruce from Asking Alexandria had messaged you, why the hell would he message you of all people? Then you remembered your blog post and put two and two together.

@benjaminbruce: Heard you wanted to come to show tonight. Meet me at stage door at 6 and I’ll give you a backstage pass, can’t have our biggest fan missing out…

You had the best fans ever, they must have pestered Ben to death after you posted. Now you had less than an hour to get ready and meet Ben at stage door. You sent a silent prayer that this wasn’t some sick joke, because that would break your heart if he ended up making a fool of you.

BEN

6pm rolled around and I had to tell the guys because they questioned why my eyes were constantly on the stage door, they were equally ecstatic to meet y/n but said they’d keep their cool because of their reputations. At about five past my phone pinged and I saw a message from y/n stating she was outside. I all but ran to the door and flung it open nearly smacking y/n in her beautiful face; shit did I just call her face beautiful? I tried to compose myself while she laughed and brushed some of her candyfloss green hair off of her face.

“Why Ben was someone eager to see me?”

I scoffed before dangling the backstage pass above her head causing her to pout, she was a lot smaller in person then what you saw behind the computer screen.

“If anything you’re eager to see me y/n. I read your blog so I know I’m your favourite member. What do I get in return for this pass?”

Her face blushed red and I knew I had her, but then she composed herself and tapped her fingers on her chin before smiling.

“If you give me the pass I’ll kiss you Ben. Clearly you’re a fan of mine because you’re talking about a pretty old blog post.”

Was she being serious? I leant down and she stood on her tip toes, but before I could kiss her she smirked against my lips and grabbed the pass from my hand.

“If you want the kiss Bruce you’re going to have to earn it.”

She laughed and put the pass around her neck before patting my shoulder. I shook my head and grinned.

“Oh it’s game on y/n.”

Her eyes widened and she all but ran behind me through the stage door with me quick on her heels. No one left Ben Bruce hanging, I would get my kiss.

Hey guys! I was recently asked to do a bellarke fic rec, and with Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day just around the corner (21st of August; go appreciate fanfic writers y’all!), I thought it was a good time to find my favourites. 

I’m posting under the cut, because it got a bit long and I didn’t want to make your dashes annoying. I’ve tagged the writers whose tumblrs I know, and used some people’s names like I know them even if I don’t – let me know if you want me to remove any of that (or add a tumblr I don’t know). I’m giving little review/summaries and mostly just being amazed at all the awesome fics we have in this fandom.

So, anyway – Happy Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!! This is me letting you know I appreciate you all a lot. Read these fics!!!! They’re great, and I encourage everyone to send writers (all that you like, not just these ones) love and kudos and comments to let them know you like their stuff.

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Original Post here.

I always thought Sam was just plain cruel in this episode. While I agree with her opinion, there is no amount to agony that can describe loosing to someone who just doesn’t care. And Sam doesn’t care.

All four of those girls enjoy being pretty, all four of those girls are talented, all four of those girls enjoyed getting a chance to strut their stuff. There is nothing wrong with that as long as you know where to draw the line. One of them deserved to win.

Sam didn’t deserve the crown. She only got it because her and Danny were friends. (Face it guys, she didn’t do anything in the competition to deserve it.) She didn’t do one thing right, and even if we were judging her by her talent, she fudged the prose really badly. 

We as women, are all beautiful. Some like to wear all black and leather, and some like to drown in glitter and wear pink, and some like both. Whether you are a goth, a pageant girl, an athlete, a gamer, or any other kind of girl, your dreams and desires are valid. Even if it’s winning a pageant.

This is a good look into Sam’s character however. Sam is selfish. This is common knowledge in the phandom. She is ruthless in getting her way, we’ve known this since episode one. Whether it be making a statement, changing the menu, or making people be how she wants them to be, Sam will do anything to make things go her way. At the expense of other people.

This is interesting in a character, but here’s where I have a problem. In season three, rather than having Sam start to learn that other people’s ideals and interests are valid, she becomes worse and becomes the be all end all of the season. Sam never learns her lesson, she becomes worse, and that is a huge problem.

People ask me why I don’t just ship Amethyst Ocean but ship Grey Ghost too (as well as my personal favorite, EctoMetal), THIS problem is why. If Sam doesn’t grow and learn like Danny does, then how could we ever expect their relationship to go anywhere. When I ship, I think of how they’ll be years down the road. If Sam can’t change, then what happens when Danny has a different idea that she doesn’t like. What happens when Danny grows up and she doesn’t, what happens if their ideals end up being different, (which happens often in canon) and what happens when Sam goes to far and hurts Danny beyond repair.

A relationship is growing with one another. Being an adult is learning how to work with other adults and come to a viable conclusion. We are shown multiple time that Sam doesn’t do that. Danny does it, Valerie does it, heck, even Dani does it and she’s only in two episodes! But not Sam, never Sam.

That’s one of the reasons I want a season 4, because I want to finally see Sam grow. I want her to learn from her mistakes, and I want her to understand that it is okay to be wrong. Her character is perfect for growth. She is strong and independent and that is great, but she is also pompous and vicious, and it hurts lots of people.

But, I suppose season 4 will never happen. It’s a shame really, I guess I’ll just have to stick to fanfiction. 

I love Danny Phantom, It continues to teach me years after it’s cancellation. With both its perfections and its flaws. That’s why I believe it is one of the greatest television shows to ever be created.

Edit: When I say this episode, I don’t mean this whole episode. I meant this section. I love the whole Dora plot. I want to make it clear that Sam’s ideals can be both good and bad. But more often that not, Sam’s attitude causes problems with her not being the one to reap the consequences.

Imagine; Sam falling into depression after you leave him, though things take an un expecting twist Sam and Dean never thought would happen.

Word Count; 3,118

Warnings; Depression, Angst, Swearing

Pairing; Sam x Reader, Sam x Dean, (a little of dean x reader)

A/N; Hey I haven’t made a long imagine in a long time but if anyone ever reads any of my short ones and wants a longer version of it please feel free to let me know or have an request. I don’t mind writing long imagines I love it I just felt like my imagines have gone downhill because ran out of ideas. Anyways I had a lot of fun writing this imagine because have been through it, so just kind of taking my experience and all that and putting it in here if that makes sense. Hope you enjoy the imagine, feel free to send in feedback or requests! Sorry if messed up on any parts worked on this for two hours and its midnight but really wanted to post it, so here you guys go! J

~

“I can’t keep going on like this… We’re through, Sam.” You said with force, looking into your now ex boyfriends eyes. You and Sam have been together for almost a year and a half now, but that was all gone today. You loved Sam with all your heart, but you need to get away. You couldn’t stand the thought of loosing Sam, or his brother who is your best friend Dean either. You didn’t plan on getting so attached, after all the people you have lost over the hunting years you learned not to get attached because all it does is caused pain, but oh god how those brothers have ruined that for you.

“W-what are you talking about cupcake-“ You cut him off, not wanting to hear that sweet nickname that made your heart warm, the nickname that would give you tons of butterflies for hours. “Stop, don’t call me that.” It broke your heart to say that, to act this cruel to the man you love but you had to do what you had to do, you always have. You could see the brokenness in his eyes, the tears swell up in those beautiful hazel eyes you used to drown in.

“Y/N, this isn’t you.. the real y/n would never hurt me like this..not after everything we’ve been through.” He sat down on the couch, placing both of his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his palms. You could hear the shivers in his breath trying to hold back the tears. It took everything in you not to sit down with him and comfort him, singing sweet songs you two both loved to listen to.

“This is me, we can’t do this Sam.” “Why not? After all this time, why now?” “Because I don’t love you anymore.” Those six words you thought you’d never have to say, especially to him. He didn’t say a word, he just looked at you with shock, like you were possessed by an evil bastard but he knew..this was the end. “I’ll pack my things, goodbye Sam.” Those were the last words you said to him. You walked down the hall into what used to be your room and packed everything you could. Your shirts, jeans, pajamas, shower items, tooth brush/paste, hair brush, old photos or items you’ve saved all your life. You were looking through your drawer than came across a photo with a date written on the back, March 15th, 2014. The date that you and Sam started dating. You two were at a park, Dean was out for the day working on the impala with Bobby because it was broken down while Sam decided to call you up for a “hangout”. The hangout ended up being at the park, and it wasn’t just a hangout.. It was one of the best days of your life, probably the top best. He pulled out your favorite flowers that was hiding behind him, gave them to you and asked you to be his, of course you said yes and that’s how it all started.

You started to notice wet stains on the photo from your tears, not even noticing you were crying till after. You two looked so happy in the photo, like you haven’t killed a vampire the day before. He was wearing his brown jacket, while you had on a mini brown jacket that looked like his only more girly that he gave you. You stuffed the photo in your bag after crushing it up into a ball, knowing you should’ve burned it or something but you had no time and had to leave before Dean came home, not wanting to see the furious look in his eyes when you tell him you broke his brother’s heart.

*A week later*

*Sam and Dean’s POV*

“Sam come on, you haven’t been out of bed in a week since y/n left, get up and get some air.” Dean demanded his brother, looking at him with a strong look, trying to hide all the worry he has for him. Sam didn’t reply, he just laid there like a rock, just like all he has been doing ever since that day you left. “And for gods sake man, shave that beard you’re starting to look like Jesus Christ.” he joked, trying to at least get a small smirk out of him but as he expected, nothing.

“Fine, lay like a brick. It’s not going to bring y/n back” even those harsh words didn’t bring any words out of Sam. He looked at him with sadness, then shook his head, realizing he was true but that was the reason why he didn’t want to do anything, because you’re not coming back.

*Two Weeks After Breakup*

“Heya Sammy I got some beer, and I got some pie wanna have a movie night? Maybe watch one of your nerdy movies what’s it called.. Doctor Where? What? Who? When? Oh its who, I think?” Sam wanted to correct him so bad, but he couldn’t find the words to come out. He just looked at him with a confused look, than looked back down and sighed. “Come on Sammy, you still got me right? You know I ain’t going anywhere, I’m going to be stuck up your ass forever.” He laughed, trying to joke around with the broken brother. Dean has always looked out for his little brother, ever since they were kids, and he always will until the end of time.

*A Month After Breakup*

“Alright Sam, it’s been a month and you’ve barley showered, barley shaved, barley moved, eat, drinked anything but whiskey till you’re shitfaced out of it, hell I think I can see your fucking ribs.” Dean said with anger, standing in front of his brother who’s laying in his bed, hair as messy as a birds nest, and beard so long he could braid it. “You haven’t been on a hunt since she left, hell you haven’t left either your room, or the couch since she left. Are you just gonna lay around, rot and die because a girl left you? Come on, people go through breakups all the time. Hell you’ve been through loosing Jess and did ok, are you seriously gonna lose it after losing one girl-“ and that’s what it finally took to set Sam off, make him actually feel something again but what he felt wasn’t relief, or feeling of being “okay”.. It was anger.

He ran up and pushed his older brother against the bed room wall, knocking a photo down while at it. He forced his left arm on his brothers neck tightly, making him loose his breath but not enough to kill him, just cause him to shut up. “Don’t talk about Jess, don’t talk about y/n and don’t tell me to get over it. I lost the girl of my dreams, the girl I loved and you want to know why? Because she didn’t love me anymore.  I gave her my all, I gave her all my heart, and she tore it and smashed it on the ground, right in front of me. So don’t tell me to get over it, I have every fucking right to be broken hearted. Just because you can easily push the pain down and move on like everything’s okay without a care in the world, doesn’t mean it’s easy for me too. I loved her, man. But she didn’t love me back. “ he let go of his brother, and walked back to the bed. He laid back down, facing his back to his brother and wrapping himself in his blankets that he hasn’t washed for a month.

Dean left, closing the door quietly but stopping on his way out. He turned around and looked at his brother, with tears welling up in his eyes. “She might’ve left you, but I never did.” He said with a broken tone in his voice, then finally shutting the door and leaving Sam by himself.

*Few Weeks After Fight*

“Hey Sammy?” Dean asked softly, slowly opening Sams bedroom door. Sam turned around slightly, but only enough for Dean to see half of his face. “I’m going out for a beer, want anything while I’m gone?” “W-whiskey.. please..” he slurred, laying his head back down. Dean sighed loudly, so loud he didn’t even hear his heart break after hearing and seeing his brother like this. This wasn’t even Sam, the Sam he knew anyways.

*Bar*

“Just a shot, please.” Dean asked the bartender politely, sitting on the bar stool and folding his hands together, thinking about everything. He was sitting there, taking shots but trying to be careful knowing he had to drive home after. He was sitting alone, staring at his folded hands until a voice from behind caught his attention. “Dean? Dean Winchester?” the voice asked, and he knew exactly who it was… Y/N.

He turned around, not expecting what to see, but you looked the same.. well not the complete same. You had bags under your eyes as if you haven’t slept in months, your eyes were a darker color then what they used to be, and your hair was shorter. “Y/N?” she took a seat next to the older brother, asking for a shot. She got her shot, took it the pushed the glass away. “How time no talk, huh?” Dean asked sarcastically, knowing this was going to lead to an argument but he didn’t care, he wasn’t going to act like nothing was wrong, like what she did to his baby brother was okay, like she was forgiven.

“Look Dean you have every right to be upset-“ he cut her off. “Damn right I do, you fucking wrecked my brother. My brother who loved you more than himself, my brother who still loves you even after you ripped his fucking heart out of his chest.” Y/N didn’t reply and just sighed, looking down at her hands and sighed, knowing how right he was. It was quiet for awhile, you two didn’t say a word until You finally broke it, time for the honest truth.

“I left because I was scared to lose him…and you. You guys were the only family I have, if you two died, or left I think I’d die too. I love Sammy with all my heart, I never stopped. I was just to much of a jerk to come up to my fear, so I lied.” Dean looked at you deeply, taking in every word you said to heart, and the truth was.. he believes you. It explains the bags under your eyes, the darker color.. It explains everything.

“Well sweetheart I appreciate the kind words about my brother, and I believe every word you say but you gotta’ hurry if you don’t want to see him die, because we’re losing him slowly, I can see it and by how he looks so far, we don’t got much time left.” Before you could even reply you stood up quickly, paid for your and dean’s drinks not even caring and just throwing it on the table, than ran to the impala with him. You threw open the passenger door while Dean got in the drivers side, started the car and before you knew it you were off.

*Home*

“Go, he’s in his room. You remember where it is, right?” Dean asked, passing you the keys to the bunker. “Of course” You replied, taking the keys and running to the door while Dean followed from behind. You opened up the door and walked in, taking in the smell of your old home.. beer and pie, your favorite. You took a huge deep breath in, embracing the smell than looked around, noticed nothing has changed. You walked down the hall to the first bedroom door that lead to Sam’s room, taking a deep breath before walking in but feeling a light hand place on your shoulder before you went in. “Take it easy on my baby brother, he’s taking it rough.” He reminded you, giving you a soft smirk and a nod, then turned around and walked down to his room down the hall.

You placed your hand on the cold door knob, taking in all the nervous butterflies in your stomach and preparing for the worst, not knowing what’s going to happen at all. This could either go amazing, or horrible. You opened the door slowly, and the view you saw in his bed room broke your heart. There was whiskey, beer, and liquor covering his whole bedroom floor, so much you couldn’t see anything but it on the floor. His hair looked like he hasn’t brushed it in months, and his beard was so grown out. His room smelled terrible, and there was things thrown around everywhere. Clothes were all over the floor, the mirror that was on top of his dresser was smashed, there was a broken chair, and stains on the walls you’ll guess from him throwing bottles of his drinks at it.

You were surprised when you saw him sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. He must’ve been to weak to walk over to the door. He looked up slowly, his eyes were so dark and had dark circles around them. His face was sunken in and his lips were pale. He’s lost so much weight, and he doesn’t even look like himself anymore. “Sammy..it’s me, y/n.” you said quietly, reaching out your hand to him. He looked at your hand with a confused look, looked up at you than looked down at the floor. “N-No..It c-can’t b-be you..” he stuttered from tiredness, or maybe he was to drunk to speak. “she said she didn’t love m-me anymore.. y-you’re not h-her..” those words broke your heart, god you should’ve said something else other than that. You should’ve been honest, but instead you lied.. and you wrecked him.

“It’s me Sammy, it’s really me.” He looked up at you with love, but sadness in his eyes. “Cupcake…? Is it really you..?” he asked, terrified for the response. “It’s me sweetheart, it’s me.” You said shakily, wanting to just jump into his arms and hug him for days, weeks.. hell maybe months. “W-what are you doing here?” “I needed to talk to you about something, can I sit?” “Y-yeah of course, excuse the mess.. II’m a little messy.” He laughed quietly, brushing the bottles away to make room for you to sit next to him. “Thanks” “So you wanted to talk?” “Yeah.. I haven’t been completely honest..” everything seemed to lighten up until you said those few words, his eyes looked sad again and he looked down. You placed your thumb underneath his chin and lifted his head up too look at you, giving him a soft “it’s okay” smirk. “I do still love you, hell I never stopped. The reason why I left was cause i’m scared to lose you, and dean. You two are the only real family I had, and to add onto it I love you more than anything. I couldn’t just stand by and know something could happen one day,  I didn’t want to wake up to Dean telling me you died, or you doing the same for him. I wouldn’t be able to handle it. So I left, but god I want to come back. That was the biggest mistake I ever made, leaving you and Dean.. and I am so so sorry.”

It took him a few minutes to reply, You weren’t sure if he was angry, or relieved. But then all of a sudden you felt a warmth you haven’t felt in so long, a warmth you’ve missed.. his lips on yours. He placed his hand on your neck, catching you by surprise and kissed you with so much passion. He kissed you like he never kissed you before, and it felt wonderful, it felt right. After a minute or two of kissing, enjoying each others lips being on eachothers but sadly we had to pull away to breath.

“You know, that was very selfish of you. Everybody is going to die someday.. You, me, and Dean.. but that doesn’t mean you should run away from it. You can’t play god and keep us alive forever.” You felt guilty, he was right, so right and it was terrible. You looked away, ashamed to look him in the eyes knowing how much pain you put him through, just because you were being stupid and not thinking about anyone but yourself. He pulled you out of your thoughts once he started talking again, catching your attention.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t forgive you. I have waited so long for you to come back because I knew that couldn’t be the end, there was no way. Cupcake we have a love so strong it’s gonna take more than a little fight to break it. I love you Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N and I’m going to be with you till the end of time, that’s if you’ll take me back?” he asks, taking your hand in his and rubbing it softly with his thumb, his hands were as cold as ice.

“Of course I will.” You said giving him a huge smile, and he gave you one back. You could tell that was the first time he smiled in a long, long time. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his smile was so bright it could light up a dark room. You pulled him in for a kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. He bit your lip softly and pulled away, knowing that was your weakness. You moaned softly than laughed, laying your index finger on his lips.

“Hey Sammy? Not until you shave that beard” giving him a wink.

bM�5AXS

Imagine Being Alone On The Fourth Of July

-

Title: Tomorrow
Characters: Owen Grady x Reader
Fandom: Jurassic World
A/N: two things guys! I was going to post this last night, in celebration of the holiday, but I was babysitting my nephew and he fell asleep. Also, I’m doing this all from my phone and an iPad, so really, I can’t tell if something isn’t working. Thanks!

-

Despite the fact that Islar Neblar was located on an island in South America, most of it was run by North Americans. Therefore, on the Fourth of July, there were fireworks.
You hadn’t seen fireworks since you were young, and since you got off work early for the celebration and had no one to go home to, you decided to join the party on the street and watch the sky explode into different colors.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring up into the night sky, even though the show hadn’t started yet. Everyone around you had someone besides them, whether it be friend or lover or family, and, frankly, it made you feel like a bit of a loser. You had left your home and everything you knew to go to Jurassic World. Everyone said it was a bad idea, considering what happened to the park twenty years ago- but you refused to admit that it could possibly happen again. Security was better than ever, and the biggest and most dangerous thing they had was a T-Rex. You knew that history tended to repeat itself, but you had pushed that thought aside.
Jurassic World was safe, and so were you. More safe than you had ever been. But you were also alone.
People began cheering, and you knew the show was about to start. You looked around aimlessly, trying not to seem like a total loser- you didn’t know why you thought that would work, but for some reason, it seemed like the right thing to do. And it was a good thing you did it, too, because you caught sight of the famous Owen Grady- the Raptor Trainer.
You wished you could do what he did. But you worked with the baby Triceratops and the baby humans. Owen seemed so much happier, better off. You had tried for a job with the big guys, but had realized how inexperienced you were when brought to an orientation for each dinosaur.
He caught you staring, and smirked. You blushed, quickly turning your head towards the sky, cringing and scolding yourself for the mistake. You bit and sucked on your bottom lip nervously, watching as the red and blue and white fireworks lit up the sky. You smiled to yourself, only to be interrupted by a hand on your shoulder.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, y/n,” Owen laughed, walking up next to you.
You took a breath before responding, your voice low, “sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I was just looking around and got lost in thought… I didn’t even realize…”
He smiled kindly, “thats alright. Honestly, I was pretty happy to see you looking at me.”
You blushed a dark Crimson, and tried to look away, “why’s that?” You asked, staring up at the sky.
He looked up as well, shrugging, “I don’t know. Maybe because your beautiful.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but you blushed harder- perhaps the color of the red fireworks in the sky. He noticed, and smiled to himself, staring at you instead of the light show up above.
“You always get what you want, don’t you, Owen Grady?” You asked, your voice low and overwhelmed by the explosions in the sky. You were almost sure they were scaring your Dino’s. Despite your longing for something bigger, you still loved the little guys.
You thought Owen hadn’t heard you, but he responded quickly. “Not always. Why do you say that?”
You felt a cold nervousness settle inside of you, and you shrugged. Your voice shook a little bit. The moment seemed surreal. Darkness around you, cheers, humans and dinosaurs, Owen Grady. “You’re always flirting. I see you, sometimes.”
He smirked, “I see you, too. Nothing ever comes of it, really, by the way.”
You looked down, embarrassed. You decided that you could see the show equally as well from your apartment window. Maybe even better- you’d be much higher up.
“I think…” You said, feeling a little chill watch over you, “I think I’m gonna go back to my apartment.”
He frowned, placing a gentle hand on your arm. He was warm, and surprisingly gentle for a raptor trainer, though his hands were calloused and scared. “Why?”
You looked up again, thinking of a valid reason why. “I don’t know. It’s a little chilly, and I’m tired. Long day today, it being a holiday and all…”
He smiled, “let me walk you back. There’s a lot of people out here not paying attention. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
You swallowed, though you did really want Owen to go with you. “Okay.” You said, turning to the side, taking one last long look at the fireworks, “it’s… It’s this way.”
He smiled, walking so close to you that your shoulder kept bumping into his upper arm. He was a little bit taller than you. “You work with the kids, right?” He asked.
You nodded, awkwardly glancing up at him and then the ground. He was beautiful- his face was lit up by the different colors, occasionally going dark because of the lack of light.
Suddenly, you had a question. “Don’t the explosions scare the dinosaurs?”
He smiled, having heard the most from you all night in that one question. “They’re fine, I’m sure. My girls don’t seem to mind them at all. You care about them, don’t you?”
You smiled to yourself, thinking of the rest of the Dino’s. “Yeah,” you said, “sometimes I wish I could work with the bigger ones. I just- it’s fun, and all, but… I don’t know.”
You arrived at your apartment building and turned to him, trying to look up into his eyes, and smiling.
“You could come see the girls. I’m sure I could get you a position near the paddock. People come and go all the time.”
You bit your lip, not sure what he meant exactly.
He laughed, “I mean, like, people think they can handle it, and then they can’t. They haven’t eaten anyone, at least, not on my watch, they haven’t.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow, before my shift?”
Owen nodded, staring at you as you looked down. “Hey,” he said, placing a finger gently under your chin, “eyes on me.” He was demanding, you assumed he’d be like that- being the alpha of a velociraptor pack could do that to you.
“Goodnight, then,” you said weakly, your eyes just barely meeting his. You cringed away from his gentle touch.
“Mhm. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m afraid I’ll have to come looking for you if you don’t show.” He smirked.
You but your lip, losing yourself in the green of his eyes. You blushed again, and he leaned closer to you, his eyes closing. You swallowed, your own eyes widening. But you wouldn’t stop it. He pressed his lips gently against yours, and immediately your eyes fell closed. Fireworks exploded in the distance, and too soon, he pulled away. He
smiled.
Another chill ran through your body, and you visibly shook. “I’ll be there… Uh… Tomorrow…” You hurried, flustered.
He smiled, still staring at you. “Sure, sure. Go on inside. You seem really cold. Don’t know why- it’s usually pretty hot here.”
You shrugged, “I’m always cold.”
He wrapped his arms around you, “I can fix that.”
Your chest raged with butterflies, and your entire face grew warm and red.
He was right. You weren’t cold anymore- he was so warm. You hugged him back, growing tired.
He laughed, “okay, don’t fall asleep now. Tomorrow?”
You pulled away, smiling, which made his smile grow wider. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”
You couldn’t help it- as he walked away, and you turned, you kept thinking: tomorrow. You were too excited to sleep, though, so you settled on watching the rest of the fireworks through your windows, falling asleep just past midnight on your couch with dreams of Owen Grady’s eyes dancing in your head.

We’ve all been there: you have a character, or a game, that you absolutely love but that you just can’t find anything (or anyone) to do with them. Or maybe you’re new to a group and aren’t getting much traction yet. Or you’re just in a slump. Whatever the reason, here are some suggestions and things to keep in mind to help jump-start your roleplay interactions:

  • Post interesting starters! That gives other players something to respond to, and if you never post any you’re shutting yourself out!

  • Reply to other people’s starters. That’s the simplest and most obvious tactic of all but seems to go overlooked a lot, whether out of a polite desire not to monopolize the dash, simple shyness…or that vicious cycle that can start when you think, “well they didn’t respond to my starter so I won’t respond to theirs.” Someone has to break that circle so it might as well be you. And maybe they think you don’t want to talk to them and are afraid to intrude! Put your character out there and show everyone how much fun it is to interact with you, and the next time you post a starter, they’ll be a lot more likely to jump on the chance!

  • Do something different. Maybe your character has fallen into a rut. Maybe nobody feels inspired to interact with them because it’s the same old thing over-and-over again. Branch out, put them in a situation you “could never see them in.” Take a chance! What have you got to lose? Remember that they’re a character and not a person, which means that you’re in control of what happens to them – not them. So take a risk. Toss them in at the deep end and see what happens next!

  • Do something active. Maybe you’ve ended up, perhaps quite by accident, with a passive character who doesn’t do anything; who relies on other people to prompt or nudge or coax them into taking action. Don’t just sit around! Even if you’re playing a passive or submissive character you, as the player, have to be active or your character is going to bore everyone else as much as they bore you. It’s no one else’s job to drag your character into interesting situations; they’re your responsibility so find something for them to actually do. Don’t just let things happen to your character; take charge and take action!

  • Communicate. If you’re in a group, have you asked your admin for advice or assistance? They usually have good ideas; isn’t that why you joined their group in the first place? You can always ask one of your friendly neighborhood roleplay helpers for tips too, whether you’re in a group or not. And don’t forget to communicate with your fellow players!

    That doesn’t mean just posting passive-aggressive comments in the ooc about your lack of interactions, or just saying, “if anybody wants to plot hit me up!” and think that’s the end of things. Roleplay is a two-way street so don’t rely on other people to have ideas for you; share some ideas of yours with them. If you want to interact with someone, take the initiative and seek them out, don’t just wait for them to come to you. (The worst they can say is no.) Talk to folks both in and out of character and present ideas for things for your characters to do. Make sure you listen to their ideas too of course, but don’t put the whole weight of thinking-up things to do on them alone. Participate, don’t just wait!

In the end, remember that it is your responsibility to make your character active, engaged, and interesting – nobody else’s. Take action, find things for them to do, and initiate interactions instead of just waiting for them to come to you. If you’re in a group that’s legitimately ignoring you, leave. Otherwise, it all boils down to what you’re doing so make sure you’re doing something! Don’t be the passive princess standing on the side of the ballroom waiting for her prince to come; hit the dance floor on your own and make yourself the bell of the ball.

LITTLE SHOP OF SUPERSTITIONS, by Natalie C. Parker

All my life, my mother has been a peddler of fantasy.

Before I was born, she opened The Mad Daughter, a specialty store for all your superstitious needs: there are wallets and cell phone cases inlaid with the wood of local trees in case you need some for knocking; there’s a wall of rabbit’s feet (supplied by the butcher next door, of course); a stand of hand-woven, lightly used brooms for new homes; jars of salt mixed with a variety of herbs line up near the rabbit feet; we have a hat rack dripping with red shoestrings; and if you break a mirror, we’ll piece it back together (which is evidence of mom’s genius – turn your back luck into good art!).

She says that her obsession started when she was a girl. As she tells it, at the age of seven, she received precisely what she’d wished for her birthday: a game called Hungry Hungry Hippos. She was more impressed that her wish – made mere moments before the gifts were brought to the table – was granted than she was with the game itself. This lead her to conduct science on every birthday thereafter, systematically wishing for things both practical and preposterous and keeping careful track of the results.

She still has her records. I’ve seen them. At the age of thirteen, she titled her journal “The Trials of Superstition” and it wasn’t until the age of sixteen that her birthday wish didn’t come true in any discernible way. Her notes on the subject are reluctant:

January 12th

Tomorrow is my birthday and so I am forced to admit that my birthday wish from last year did not come true. As the first instance of wish un-fulfillment in a decade, I think it’s safe to assume it is the outlier and my experiment still has merit.

Lord, even as a kid she was pretentious.

But birthdays are only where she got her start. Her journals are filled with accounts of every superstition the lay person has ever heard of and dozens more. There are proofs and explanations and musings about history and religion and N’Sync. So it’s really no wonder that superstition became her bread and butter.

Our bread and butter, I should say. Because I’ve been working at The Mad Daughter for ages, or, three years, part-time, if you ask the IRS.

We’re located at the corner of Acorn and 13th and we’re the hottest ticket in town around Halloween – come get your witch kits! –  and Valentine’s Day – our bones reveal who you’ll marry!

I’ve never believed a lick of it. The minute you believe things like this, they become real, and that’s a slippery slope.

But disbelief doesn’t sell brooms, so when I’m on duty, I’m all smiles and sales pitch.

Or I was until Sam.

There are a lot of things I could say about my life pre-Sam. It wasn’t simple, but it sure wasn’t complicated; it wasn’t easy, but it sure wasn’t hard; it wasn’t fake, but it sure wasn’t the truth.

There hasn’t been a lot of life post-Sam, but I know, I believe this small thing will change so much.

You know how sometimes you meet a person and suddenly you know yourself better in that moment than you did the moment before? I don’t know if that’s really a thing. It’s only happened to me the once. Where “the once” equals “Sam.”

Not to be dramatic, but Sam came in like a beam of light. It was a Saturday afternoon in November and – hang on, it started before that afternoon. It started on Halloween when my mother invited her ladies over to engage in all her favorite superstitions. They ring bells to chase away evil spirits, peel apples to see who will come into good fortune first, and write names in lemon juice on pieces of paper and toss them into a cauldron. The last is for those of us who are unwed and I’m always forced to participate.

On my turn, I pulled a piece of paper and held it over the flame of a candle until the lemon juice slowly revealed the name of my one true love: Sam.

“Sam’s a good name,” my mother said.

“Every Sam I know is good-hearted,” said one of her ladies.

“Any Sam’s in your life already, Livi?” asked another.

I shook my head and went to get more punch.

Now, back to that Saturday afternoon. I was working the desk like I always do on Saturday afternoons. There was a man staring at the rice mom spills across the threshold every day and I was preparing my stock answer on Vampire wards when he suddenly stepped aside and there she was.

Long, chestnut hair and a navy Henley.  That’s just what I remember when I stop to think about it. In the moment, all I saw was a girl that made my insides shiver.

She saw me, too, but I have no idea how she was feeling in that moment. She moved around the man still hovering over the rice and walked right to my counter where she leaned on one elbow and asked, “So, are you the Mad Daughter?”

I know I did something embarrassing like laugh – I inherited my mother’s signature ha-ha hahah oh-ha-ha laugh and it’s terrible – but I don’t remember it. I remember saying, “Oh, no. I mean, I’m the daughter of the owner, but no, no, not mad it’s actually a reference to an obscure Voltaire quote about superstitions being the mad daughter of a wise mother and my mom – ah, sorry. Can I help you find anything?”

Then she was laughing and I was thrust into some sort of existential crisis of self in which I questioned my understanding of the universe but mostly the part where I claimed to know who I was.

She was a girl. Still is. So was I. Still am. And it was for these reasons that I was completely unprepared to help her find a birthday present for her mom.

But I did. We picked out a mosaic mirror in the shape of a Tudor Rose – her mother was an Anglophile and a fan of Margaret Beaufort, so it really was perfect – and that was that.

Well, that wasn’t that. She paid with a credit card I barely noticed and before she left, she put out her hand and said, “I’m Sam.”

That was when the world stopped… And it hasn’t moved yet.

I don’t believe. I know I don’t believe that I’m destined to love a Sam simply because I pulled a piece of paper with that name scrawled in lemon juice. But my fingers close around the receipt with her name on it, Sam, Sam, Sam, and I wonder if that night was preparing me for this moment.

No, no, it wasn’t.

There is some part of me screaming “Let this moment pass!” because I cannot validate one of my mother’s superstitions. It’s a loud and deeply rooted part and it holds the rest of me in a vice as Sam takes her mirror and begins to walk away.

How can I begin to react in a moment when I’m suddenly not the person I thought I was? I should let her go. I should go home and have a long hot bath where I can relax with jasmine tea and slowly, carefully revisit the core tenants of Liv Davis and see how this new piece fits. I should take my time. Adjust. 

She reaches the doorway, crosses the rice ward, and rings the bell as she exits.

It wasn’t real, none of it is real because I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it. I – 

Sam.

The door closes behind her. I can see the outline of her through the frosted window. I’ve never seen her before today, it’s possible I’ll never see her again and these few moments will be the only real thing about her.

Sam. I drop the receipt, round the counter, and rush onto the sidewalk. She’s half a block away, sunlight caught in her hair, the mirror caught on her hip. I run to catch her. “Sam!” I call.

She turns. She smiles.

“I’m Liv,” I say, and I hardly believe it, but I add, “I think we were supposed to meet.”