from the night before

Did I post this here? I don’t think I did. 

Here’s a very special General Syndulla inspired tooka doll that I made for Vanessa Marshall at SWCO! I made it the night before I travelled inbetween packing, and finished her off on the flight over to Orlando. [x]

Sunday

While writing a new thing I found this saved on my laptop that I wrote ages ago.


Today is Sunday. Beca’s favourite day.

She usually spends most of it in bed, eventually moving when she’s hungry or forgotten that she left her headphones on the other side of the room from the night before *wink wink*. The remainder of her day is spent laying on the couch in the Bella house watching a shitty reality show because she was “forced” by her girlfriend, Chloe. She enjoys mindless garbage TV shows. She wouldn’t admit that to anyone, she’s Beca Effin’ Mitchell for god’s sake.

But today is different from her usual Sunday, she had to get out of bed at 7:30 in the morning to get to a job interview to intern at Residual Heat. To say the least, she was nervous, she was shitting metaphorical bricks. Nobody knew she had an interview, she definitely didn’t want to tell Chloe. She didn’t want her to have another thing to stress about with the Worlds and graduation coming up.

Getting ready in the morning was pretty easy, Amy was still out from the night before from her milkshake trip. Amy never has been the best liar. She had to be quiet because she knew that Chloe was a very light sleeper and she usually gets up early for her morning run. This meant she had to be stealthy. She finished getting ready at 7:45. “Phew” Beca thought to herself, “all I need to do is actually get there on time”. She ran out of the house and locked the door. She mentally high fived herself.

While stood on the corner near the Bella house waiting for Jesse, she heard Titanium getting louder. “Fuck! Why did she have to pick a new route? Today of all days.”. Beca looked for the nearest place she could hide, the only thing in sight was a bush. “I guess that will have to do…” she made a leap for it just in time for Chloe to jog passed in her bright pink sports gear. “I thought she was the athlete in the relationship”. She got up from behind the bush, brushing the dead leaves off of her, seeing that Jesse had arrived. “I need to take that cardio tip more seriously”, she made a note on her phone to start walking a little more vigorously. She got in his car with her laptop bag and off she went.

The interview only lasted 30 minutes. She felt down hearted because they only asked for one of her tracks to listen to. She got back in Jesse’s car, being silent the whole way back to the house. When she got back the house was empty, she looked at her phone, it was 11am. She took off her shoes and went up to her room, hoping Amy wasn’t back. She opened the door and huffed, Amy didn’t even look up from her phone “I won’t say anything if you don’t”. “Deal”.

Beca showered her disappointment off, dried herself and then went straight back to bed in an oversized Barden University top that she borrowed off of Chloe, probably Tom’s. She finally fell asleep and forgot all about her interview.

She woke up when her stomach began to rumble and went down the stairs to see Chloe sprawled on the couch watching the Kardashians. She went into the kitchen to get herself a bowl of cereal. Specifically, Golden Grahams, they were hidden behind the healthy stuff. Her excuse: “desperate times calls for desperate measures, especially if this is the only Graham I will ever have in my life!”. She got out her phone expecting to see the ‘sorry but you weren’t suitable for the job’ email, but to her surprise there wasn’t one. What she did find was one saying that she can start next Wednesday. “Fuck yeah!”, she didn’t realise that she said that out loud until she heard “Babe, what happened?” being squeaked from the other room. Beca had to think on her feet “errmmm, I forgot where I put Graham, but I found him…”. “Okay you weirdo, come watch the Kardashians with me before everyone comes back. I haven’t had my Sunday cuddle with you”. Beca knew Chloe was pouting; she could practically hear it through the wall.

She did as she was told (Beca thinks she’s not whipped, but everyone knows it) and she brought the bowl through with her and snuggled up to Chloe. She felt guilty not telling Chloe about the interview, but then she looked up at Chloe’s face and forgot all about it. They stayed in that position until they both woke up, laughing at the position they ended up in.

*Just imagine an octopus trying to knit*

One by one, each Bella filled into the house. The familiar noises made Beca feel happy that she had friends like them, they were her nerds. They ended up playing a game of Twister with a twist. The twist was Amy’s world famous jungle juice. This carried on until they all dropped like flies and slept where they fell on the mat. It was a sight to see.

Beca was the only one left awake, barely, she looked around smiling to herself. She then gave her girlfriend a kiss on her forehead and wrapped them both up in Chloe’s favourite blanket- bright pink with unicorns on, definitely not Beca’s choice. She may or may not have rolled her eyes when Chloe placed it in the shopping cart. In the long run, she didn’t care because when they were both snuggled into each other underneath it, she was the most content she had ever been.

The day was Sunday, still Beca’s favourite day.

I’m curious - what’s your writing process like?

When I’ve got some time, especially when I don’t have my laptop with me, I cluster. And write by longhand. The above pics are from last night’s thoughts before I wrote “Parallel Lines.”

The prompt “Passion led us here” started out as a Ben x MC piece, a sequel to “Into You.” The upper left, upper and lower right papers hold the preliminary thoughts and scribbles. But I got stuck.

Keep reading

Harry Potter wasn’t the only one displaced by the events on Halloween 1981 in Godric’s Hollow. His twin sister Leila was forced to reside with the Dursleys as well. Often in Harry’s shadow, Leila tries to mark her own path along her magical journey through her years at Hogwarts.

                                   Year 1: The Forbidden Forest

Still half-asleep from the night before, Leila sat in the Great Hall eating her morning bowl of porridge. She sat between Theo and Daphne and quite thankfully, down the table a ways from Malfoy. Leila still was quite angry with him for the stunt he had pulled getting her brother in trouble. However, just because she actively avoided him, didn’t mean he actively avoided her. The opposite in fact. So, Leila was quite grateful for a reprieve.

The Slytherin trio sat with their backs to the other tables. Leila knew they were watching her, but it was usually more bearable if she couldn’t see them staring at her. Gryffindor of course continued to hate her. Even the other classes were beginning to join in on the fun…at least, behind her back. Although, surprisingly, if Harry was in the same room as her, it all came to a stop. Beside the Gryffindors, the other person to be quite miffed at Leila was Pansy Parkinson. Leila wasn’t sure why, but Daphne claimed that it was fairly obvious. She had just left it at that.

Leila looked over her Herbology textbook as she spooned a bite of porridge into her mouth. Herbology was probably her weakest subject at this point. She certainly wasn’t blessed with a natural green thumb ability. So, she recognized that she had to work a little harder in that subject. She was quite focused on the text in front of her until someone tapped her shoulder. While her first instinct was to freeze and then to get defensive, she slowly turned to find Professor McGonagall standing behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t some Gryffindor there to pester her.

“Your detention summons,” Professor McGonagall said handing Leila a rolled-up parchment.

FROM THE BEGINNING // CHAPTER UPDATE

theblogofsuri  asked:

2, 10, and 48 for Layton?

I’m so excited to get to answer these!! Especially since it’s Layton and I really had to think on my answers for him.

2. Do they have any daily rituals?

Just the one. Because Hershel is constantly late and never where he is meant to be at any given time, his schedule is rather unpredictable. But he always finds the time to do the crossword puzzle from the paper at night before bed. He picked up said habit from his Dad. :)

10. Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Post-Unwound Future, he will occasionally find himself thinking–compulsively and obsessively–about Claire’s death. It ultimately spirals into a fear that if he turns a corner, he’ll see Claire how he did when she was dead. It’s usually triggered by hearing a ticking clock, so he doesn’t have any analog clocks anywhere in his house or office or classroom. All stemming from the whole “time travel is actually real” thing. It really rocked his sense of reality. They aren’t pleasant spells for him to experience.

48. How do they express love?

Hershel is not generally a very outwardly emotional person and I always thought that PDA was never his thing–and Claire actually seemed to be rather aware of this, even when she gave him the letter confessing her love to him. Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule and after Claire, he forces himself to tell the people around him that he loves them. In addition to just straight up telling them, he also will find puzzles for them that he knows they will like and figuring out perfect gifts is always a fun pastime for him.

This was so much fun! I hope the answers were good or at least interesting and entertaining. I always love headcanons! Thank you so much for asking! You should expect an ask from me soon in return. :)

anonymous asked:

Okay, so I have a theory about Monday's episode. So, in the original promo, Lena asks "who else has seen it?". Maybe this could be her referring to kara being supergirl. Since, Kara apologizes to Lena for possibly not telling the truth. And Lena says, "you were just doing your job". Possibly, her caring about Kara as her duty to her identity as a secret and being supergirl. Idk just a thought I had :))

Hey love! Thanks for sharing your theory with me! I have a strong feeling that Kara is showing Lena whatever information she obtained from that guy that asked her to meet with him, possibly the night before. It could be evidence about something related to Jack and his product. Once Lena sees what Kara presents her with, Kara could be apologetic because of the fact that she cares for him but has been made aware that he could be up to something terrible. That is just my theory though and at this point I am not ruling much of anything out (especially since I am impatiently waiting for a reveal or confirmation of Lena knowing).

With all the teasers we have gotten, it has certainly been a roller coaster of going back and forth on speculation and theories so I am getting pretty anxious for Monday night.

Thanks again for sharing!! 💗💗

Today I am wearing lacy black underwear
For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.
And underneath that?
I am absolutely naked.

And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;
I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts
like saran wrap that you can see through
to what leftovers are inside from the night before.

And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.
My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.

But that doesn’t matter, right?

You don’t care about how soft my skin is.
You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.
But what if all they do is crack open windows?
So I can see lightening through the clouds.
What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?
What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?

But that’s not the story you want.

You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.
Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.
I don’t need to be the water in the well.
I don’t need to be the well.
But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.
I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.
They find harmonies in their laughter.
Their linked elbows echo in tune.

What if I can’t hum on key?
What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?
Some people can recognize a tree,
A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.
How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?

How long before I’m lost for good.
It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.
It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.
But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

—  Hannah Baker (Thirteen Reasons Why)
Hannah's Poem

“Today I am wearing lacy black underwear

For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.

And underneath that?

I am absolutely naked.

And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;

I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts

like saran wrap that you can see through

to what leftovers are inside from the night before.

And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.

My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.

But that doesn’t matter, right?

You don’t care about how soft my skin is.

You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?

So I can see lightening through the clouds.

What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?

What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?

But that’s not the story you want.

You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.

I don’t need to be the water in the well.

I don’t need to be the well.

But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.

I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.

They find harmonies in their laughter.

Their linked elbows echo in tune.

What if I can’t hum on key?

What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,

A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.

How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?

How long before I’m lost for good.

It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.

It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.

But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.”

-Hannah Baker

“Today I am wearing lacy black underwear

For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.

And underneath that?

I am absolutely naked.

And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;

I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts

like saran wrap that you can see through

to what leftovers are inside from the night before.

And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.

My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.

But that doesn’t matter, right?

You don’t care about how soft my skin is.

You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?

So I can see lightening through the clouds.

What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?

What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?

But that’s not the story you want.

You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.

I don’t need to be the water in the well.

I don’t need to be the well.

But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.

I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.

They find harmonies in their laughter.

Their linked elbows echo in tune.

What if I can’t hum on key?

What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,

A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.

How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?

How long before I’m lost for good.

It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.

It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.

But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.”

— 
Hannah Baker, 13 Reason’s Why

“Today I am wearing lacy black underwear

For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.

And underneath that?

I am absolutely naked.

And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;

I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts

like saran wrap that you can see through

to what leftovers are inside from the night before.

And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.

My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.

But that doesn’t matter, right?

You don’t care about how soft my skin is.

You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?

So I can see lightening through the clouds.

What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?

What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?

But that’s not the story you want.

You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.

I don’t need to be the water in the well.

I don’t need to be the well.

But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.

I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.

They find harmonies in their laughter.

Their linked elbows echo in tune.

What if I can’t hum on key?

What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,

A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.

How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?

How long before I’m lost for good.

It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.

It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.

But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.”

-Hannah Baker, 13 Reason’s Why

—  13 Reasons Why

Today I am wearing lacy black underwear
For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.
And underneath that?
I am absolutely naked.
And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;
I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts
like saran wrap that you can see through
to what leftovers are inside from the night before.
And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.
My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.
But that doesn’t matter, right?
You don’t care about how soft my skin is.
You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?
So I can see lightening through the clouds.
What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?
What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?
But that’s not the story you want.
You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.
I don’t need to be the water in the well.
I don’t need to be the well.
But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.
I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.
They find harmonies in their laughter.
Their linked elbows echo in tune.
What if I can’t hum on key?
What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,
A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.
How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?
How long before I’m lost for good.
It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.
It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.
But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.
I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

—  13 reasons why.
Hannah Baker's Poem

Today I am wearing lacy black underwear

For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.

And underneath that?

I am absolutely naked.

And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;

I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts

like saran wrap that you can see through

to what leftovers are inside from the night before.

And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.

My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.

But that doesn’t matter, right?

You don’t care about how soft my skin is.

You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?

So I can see lightening through the clouds.

What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?

What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?

But that’s not the story you want.

You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.

I don’t need to be the water in the well.

I don’t need to be the well.

But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.

I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.

They find harmonies in their laughter.

Their linked elbows echo in tune.

What if I can’t hum on key?

What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,

A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.

How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?

How long before I’m lost for good.

It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.

It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.

But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.

I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

- Hannah Baker, 13 Reasons Why

Today I am wearing lacy black underwear
For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.
And underneath that?
I am absolutely naked.
And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;
I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts
like saran wrap that you can see through
to what leftovers are inside from the night before.
And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.
My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.
But that doesn’t matter, right?
You don’t care about how soft my skin is.
You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.

But what if all they do is crack open windows?
So I can see lightening through the clouds.
What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?
What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?
But that’s not the story you want.
You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.

Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.
I don’t need to be the water in the well.
I don’t need to be the well.
But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.
I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.

Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.
They find harmonies in their laughter.
Their linked elbows echo in tune.
What if I can’t hum on key?
What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?

Some people can recognize a tree,
A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.
How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?
How long before I’m lost for good.
It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.
It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.
But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.
I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

—  Hannah Baker, 13 Reasons Why


Today I am wearing lacy black underwear
For the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them.
And underneath that?
I am absolutely naked.
And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin;
I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts
like saran wrap that you can see through
to what leftovers are inside from the night before.
And despite what you might think, my skin is not rough; nor is it bullet proof.
My skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred.
But that doesn’t matter, right?
You don’t care about how soft my skin is.
You just want to hear about what my fingers do in the dark.
But what if all they do is crack open windows?
So I can see lightening through the clouds.
What if all they crave is a jungle gym to climb for a taste of fresher air?
What if all they reach for is a notebook or a hand to hold?
But that’s not the story you want.
You are licking your lips and baring your teeth.
Just once I would like to be the direction someone else is going.
I don’t need to be the water in the well.
I don’t need to be the well.
But I’d like to not be the ground anymore.
I’d like to not be the thing people dig their hands in anymore.
Some girls know all the lyrics to each other’s songs.
They find harmonies in their laughter.
Their linked elbows echo in tune.
What if I can’t hum on key?
What if my melodies are the ones nobody hears?
Some people can recognize a tree,
A front yard, and know they’ve made it home.
How many circles can I walk in before I give up looking?
How long before I’m lost for good.
It must be possible to swim in the ocean of the one you love without drowning.
It must be possible to swim without becoming water yourself.
But I keep swallowing what I thought was air.
I keep finding stones tied to my feet.

- Hannah Baker, 13 Reasons Why

4

Today I am wearing lacy black underwear, for the sole purpose of knowing I am wearing them. And underneath that, I am absolutely naked. And I’ve got skin. Miles and miles of skin. I’ve got skin to cover all my thoughts like saran wrap that you can see through to what leftovers are inside from the night before. And despite what you might think, my skin is soft, and smooth, and easily scarred. But that doesn’t matter, right?

kahuna-burger  asked:

Hey, since you have trouble touching people without stabbing them, but like cuddling pets, have you considered trying to hug T'Challa? Or possibly getting Tony to put on cat ears?

you have a serious flaw in your logic. 

tchalla is a cat-man who has repeatedly tried to claw my face off. it was freakin traumatizing. you think a normal cat that doesnt wanna be petted is bad, try getting handsy with tchalla.

not that ive gotten handsy with tchalla. i like my face attached to my person, thank you very much.

tony put on cat ears a few months ago in a fit of confused sleep deprivation. the picture circulated through avengers-related group chats for weeks. nick fury called it, and i quote, ‘fucking adorable.’ tony is sometimes a no-toucher too though, so mostly we let him initiate contract when he wants to. so no, i did not hug tony when he was wearing cat ears. 

steve did have to carry him to bed though. and that picture circulated for months

4

As the old Gravity Falls legend goes…

 whether you’re naughty OR nice, a jolly little triangle will break into your house and eat all your food (and leave you spiders and nightmares if you’re lucky)

When every social media platform you log into has Valentine’s Day DLC spoilers

Originally posted by wonderlandforgirls