believer right here

anonymous asked:

What should I do if I can't decide between two ideas for my bb entry?

I am not completely sure either to be honest, but here are a few things that you might want to consider:

  • plan your ideas out. If you haven’t done this already, do it now. Plan them out as much as possible, figure out backstories for the main characters (even if they will never get mentioned) and decide on at least 2-3 small, fun details. Having the entire plot planned out is the foundation of deciding whether the stories will really keep you as motivated as your original spark made you believe they would and the added details will keep your interest alive, even if you are stuck with your planning at some points. I am serious, work the ideas out as much as possible, if you are still excited to write them after all of that then you have done a good job at thinking them up. If not… try to find a third idea. If planning your ideas out is already enough to turn you off of them they are not worth your time.
  • your motivation for the ideas. Your big bang fic will probably be something with a high word count, right? Writing stuff with a high word count takes time. If you are more excited to write one fic than the other, take the one with a higher motivation. In an ideal scenario you have both fics already planned out and are able to see which one includes more scenes that make you giddy to write them. In my personal experience it’s better to take the fic that has lots of small scenes that excite you rather than the one whose overall topic you like better - the problem with the overall fic will be that you will like the end result but arriving there will be much more difficult than when you have several small “goals” to reach throughout your story.
  • the expected wordcount of the ideas. Pretty self-explanatory. If you are very excited for one of your ideas but aren’t sure whether you can finish it on time, reconsider it. Take a look at your classes/work schedule/other appointments for the next few months and see whether there will be enough time to complete it. You might have to compromise between time and motivation.
  • getting a feel for the ideas. What I am saying is: start writing them. Try to write a minimum of somewhere between 500-3000 words (depending on how long the final word count will be, obviously^^’) to see whether they really are as fun to write as you imagined it. Personally, I always write out the beginning, but you can choose any scene, really. Maybe not one of those that make you too excited though or you will get disappointed once you have to write the… not fun parts. 
  • Imagery! I am not talking about metaphors, I am talking about whether you are able to picture certain scenes of your fic in your head. If you are able to do that, not only will you be able to describe the actions better with less effort but your artist will probably also have an easier time to picture them in their head. Trust me on this. I suggest choosing a minimum of 2 scenes in total, if you are writing a multichapter thing ~1 scene per chapter. It can be anything from a scenery to a facial expression to a pose, don’t think too much about it. If you are having a hard time picturing something, your fic needs more planning. (This! Is very tricky though!! For the love of god, don’t be disappointed if your artist pictured a scene differently. This is mainly just to see whether you have a good grip on your plot/characters/environment.)
  • asking for someone else’s opinion. This is optional and I would only use it if you really can’t decide on your own. Don’t do it publicly, that would go against the rules, but choose a friend/fellow someone that’s willing to listen to you privately. You don’t have to tell them both entire plots, just give them a general summary and ask them what they would rather want to read. (If you do choose to tell them the whole plot, you might gain a personal cheerleader though which is always an A+ motivator once you have already started the fic. I have also learned that if you are stuck with figuring out smaller details of a story, someone else asking questions about it helps a great deal. This is not really relevant to figuring out which story you want to write though, just an extra tip to consider :P)

Not sure I was able to help, but here you go anyway :D If you can’t find someone to talk to for the last point, I am always open. I promise, I’m a nice person :P

Just take my crappy cosplay and leave me be, this AU has me WRECKED


@morgiethemermaid OH MY GOSHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUDE DUDE THIS IS BEAUTIFUL!!!!!! AMAZING I’M GOING TO CRY 


You know what upsets me most is that kids are going see Trump and the way he acts and believe that it’s ok to be like that. It’s ok to harass women, it’s ok to be racist, it’s ok to be misogynistic, it’s ok to be homophobic, It’s ok to be transphobic because look look at that guy. He did it and look at where he is now. Look at where he stands today, a nation at his feet. This isn’t ok. Not everyone has that luxury of walking down the street without being judged, hated or worse abused. 

Whatever you do don’t imagine John and Sherlock on their Bond movie night, snuggled up on the sofa in their pjs with blankets and takeout food and big mugs of tea. Drinking wine and munching on cookies they stole from Mrs Hudson while giggling all the time bc Sherlock tries to annoy John by decucing the entire plot of the movie. 
And for god’s sake don’t imagine Sherlock falling asleep on Johns shoulder and John smiling to himself because he is so content to just feel the warmth of their closeness and to watch his soft sleepy face and listen to the quiet mumbles and little snores he makes before he tucks them both in the blankets so Sherlock doesn’t get cold and he leans his head against Sherlock’s, careful not to wake him, his hair tickling his face and smelling his shampoo and he is infinitely happy because this moment couldn’t be more perfect and really, he couldn’t care less about the movie, he just wishes the moment could last forever and he puts his arm around Sherlock and falls into a peaceful sleep.



No, you don’t understand. This scene basically interprets what almost EVERY weeaboo goes through.

You’ve got the TRASH who is obsessed with their interest, the FAMILY who’s used to the obsession, the MIDDLEMAN who knows the world but isn’t completely engrossed by it, and the OUTSIDER who has no clue and is overwhelmed with confusion; and who requires the assistance of the middleman.


The room is dark like it always is when they do this. Sam’s sprawled out on the bed, leaning up the cheap motel headboard, stark naked, his tanned skin standing out in contrast against the off white sheets. Dean could stand there and admire the beauty that was his brother when he was like this. At ease and comfortable, slowly stroking himself as he watched Dean set up the camera. But they had an appointment and there were already viewers online and so the show had to start. Which meant that Dean couldn’t stay where he was.

He looked down at the camera, checking one last time that the thing was on before looking over his shoulder to look at the website that was pulled up on the old laptop. In the short time between the last time he looked to now, more people had already logged on, just waiting.

He set the camera on a thirty second timer and walked over to join his little brother on the bed. Sam reached out, pulling Dean down by that amulet that Sam had gotten him many moons ago and kissed him once, a tiny moment of intimacy before the video started and they shared their taboo love with the entire world.

Dean took his spot on the bed in front of Sam, eyes on the screen, watching for the moment that the screen turned black to the image of them, Dean postponed in the middle of Sam’s spread legs. Sam wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock, sucking on a spot just below his ear making Dean let out a low moan. It was these few moments before they fell into their respective roles when the video starting playing that both brothers cherished. It was when they spoke the loudest to each other.

I love you.

You mean everything to me.

No matter what happens on that screen and what those sick fucks ask for, you’re mine.

Finally the little red light on the side of the camera started blinking it’s little red dot and their bodies were displayed on the screen. Sam straightened behind Dean, removing his lips from that special spot on Dean’s neck and Dean curled his shoulders inward, making him seem smaller than he actually was, letting Sam’s huge form overtake his.

Instantly people started commenting, saying all the dirty, filthy things that they wanted Sam to do to Dean but the screen was too far away for either brother to read what was being written and honestly it was better this way because Sam always knows what they want and he takes control.

Their faces don’t show on the screen. Dean always makes sure that the angle of the camera shows as high as their mouths and nothing more. It’s for safety more than anything. However Dean can imagine Sam’s smug, possessive smile as he shows his brother off to those nameless people on the other side of the screen. He’s seen it before. Countless times when Sam made it known just who Dean belonged to when they saw those marks caused by Sam’s mouth high up on Dean’s neck.

More comments appeared in the little chat box off to the side of the video, more demands for what they wanted Sam to do but Sam continued what he was doing. The methodical movements of his wrist as he continued to jerk Dean off as he moved his hand up the abdomen of his brother, slowly stroking his chest.

Sam’s lips were hovering over the shell of Dean’s ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps across his flesh. He could feel the moment that Sam’s lips upturned to a smirk as he continued to drag his hand up his chest, his fingers grazing over one of his nipples, causing a hitch in Dean’s breath.

“Just look at him.” Sam whispered to the dark room. The chat box seemed to go crazy. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? Gorgeous.”

Dean could feel the tips of his ears turning red at the praise. Sam gripped him tighter, his thumb running over the tip of his cock making Dean shiver up against Sam, a thin sheen of sweat started to break out across the skin of both of them. The amulet rose and fell against Dean’s chest with every breath that he took, his mouth falling open with every movement that Sam was doing.

“He’s beautiful and he’s all mine.” Sam growled, grabbing a hold of Dean’s earlobe in between his teeth. “However, I’m in the giving mood today. We can share him.” Sam whispered to the red light and the red light blinked back.




from ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

from forth the fatal lions of these two foes,

a pair of star crossed lovers…

So I cut up my mother’s tablecloth...

I am in purge mode, but I had a hard time parting with this cross-stitched tablecloth that my mother made more than 60 years ago. I took a deep breath and cut it apart to make quilted placemats that we will actually use.

Mom saved anything she thought could be used again. She was not a hoarder, just a recycler before it was trendy. She could repurpose cigar boxes and margarine tubs and wrapping paper, always making something beautiful. 

Now my fork and knife will rest on her tiny hand stitches, nestled among my free-motion machine-quilted stitches, and it will all be very good. Hubby says she would be proud of me, and I believe he is right. Here’s to you, Mom. Thanks for everything you taught me.

Another Life: Chapter 8, The Vagaries of Memory


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Master List

I couldn’t believe it. He was right here before me. I had seen him in my imagination, in the night as I slept, in dreams which I could no longer convince myself were borne of memory. Yet somehow he was here. He had materialized at my feet and was offering himself to me. He stared up at me with a longing so intense that our hands shook with it. I knew my answer before I quite realized who he was. I wanted to tell him yes, that I would have him, but I couldn’t seem to speak. So I dropped to my knees to be closer to him. He pressed my hand to his lips over and over, saying nothing.

With my free hand, I pushed the curls of his hair away from his face. I meant only to look at him more closely, but something compelled me to stroke his cheek with my fingers, and the most beatific smile I had ever seen spread across his wide mouth as his eyes welled with tears. Now I couldn’t resist. I threw my arms around him. He hesitated for only a second, then returned my embrace with a choked sob. “Claire,” he whispered into my hair.

We clung to each other as the rest of the world swirled around us, and I shut my eyes to block out everything but the feeling of him against me. I knew with absolute certainty that we had never before touched, that this was the first time I had ever lay eyes on him, yet we had held each other a hundred times. A thousand.

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Jensen: I’m gonna find a script. You tell a story that- Dust off an old story for- [starts laughing].