how is this not up here yet!

Carving Template || OT7

TREAT

Pairing: OT7 X READER

Summarythe boys are relatively useless when it comes to successfully carving a pumkin but it doesn’t stop them from trying.

Genre: fluff, roommates au

Length: 1k

A/N: i’ve never written such a big poly relationship before but i like it

“Someone grab the knife off Namjoon and Taehyung,” you called, glancing over your shoulder to check someone had, as you were busy hollowing out another pumpkin. But your vision was obscured by Jimin as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you and started rocking you back and forth.

“Stop being so uptight and loosen up,” he watched as you scraped out more of the pumpkin from inside, and he only tightened his grip on your waist trying to get you to do some carving with the rest of the boys.

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anonymous asked:

Hello! Could you do the 5 kidge please? Thank you and I'm so glad to have you here! 💚

Me: AHHHHH HOW DO I WRITE THIS I CANT WRITE THIS

Also me: I’ll do it for you anon


It was an accident.

(she hated to say that; life could never truly be an accident, could it?)

Yet there she was, holding a slip of paper in a death grip, and staring up at the apartment building in front of her.

(she had been waiting for an hour)

She breathed in.

Then out.

Then in.

Then-

“Screw it.” She said to herself, stomach tight, and strode across the crosswalk.

She managed to get to the front door when the shock finally hit her like a brick wall.

(she was pregnant)

(she didn’t even remember the guy)

(she was screwed)

Yet something was telling her to keep going, so she gathered her courage and pressed the button labeled 275 on the wall.

She waited.

“This is Keith Kogane?”

And it was like her whole world began crashing down.

Going Going Kugane, Part 4

We’ve Arrived! - The First Taste of Kugane

It had been an arduous, yet short and altogether strange journey for the quartet of travelers… but they  had finally reached the threshold of Kugane - though, not at the port of entry they had expected. Or even at the expected time; with their estimated date of arrival not being for at least another month. And yet here they were, stepping into the doorway to Othard that was the island nation of Hingashi. A bit tired and roughed up from their endeavors, but otherwise hale and whole.

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so here is the state of the living room of our apartment. I call it the store front now. this is where we keep everything we are not keeping. at the time of this picture, I would say so far about 25% has been given away or sold. I keep asking myself…how can we get rid of so much, and yet still have so much left?

I honestly can’t wait until the living room is BARE.

………………………..wholesome

I wonder why each little bird has a someone to sing to

i got a few requests for a companion piece to the gifts of beauty and song, my retold sleeping beauty fairytale, so here you go

so maleficent is the good fairy here, right, and the three fairies are the bad ones, so like fae do they each appear to be what they’re not. and aurora, given fae gifts and raised by fae, is nearly fae herself. maleficent knows that only an elf could hope to sway a fae heart, because elves are impervious to their glamour. maleficent kidnaps the young prince philip, and brings him to the elven realm. she tries to bargain a prince for a prince, but the king is unswayed. a human prince, he declared, is only worth an elvish servant, so that’s what she gets.

maleficent takes the servant and puts him in philip’s place, gives him that name, and watches as the servant elf is made a prince among mortals, watches as he eventually captures aurora’s heart, and saves her from her living death. watches as the elf servant turned prince becomes a king, as the almost-fae princess aurora becomes queen, and their two kingdoms become one and they rule the land of men together.

this, of course, begs the question – what happens to our dear human philip?

he is not the first child that has been bargained away to the elves, and elf queen thalia settles the young boy on her hip and raises an eyebrow at her husband, waiting. the child awakens by degrees, until he’s clutching her neck and blinking at the gathered elves. thalia is only grateful that he hasn’t started screaming, like so many of his kind do.

normally the children that are bargained to them are put to work in the castle, where they’re safe, where their clumsiness and their ignorance and their mistakes will be glossed over, where she and the king will ensure they will be politely ignored rather than harassed. they’ve lost a servant boy, and so she’s sure a servant boy is what this young human is meant to become.

except a woman of the court steps forward, and she’s old, old enough that it shows, that her curly hair has gone silver and wrinkles are etched deep in her face. lady ember is older than the forests they reside in, is older than her grandmother, than her great grandmother. everyone’s lost track of her exact age, but she’s the oldest elf in village. thalia likes her – she and lady ember have skin of the same dark shade. thalia hopes that if she is to live long enough, she and lady ember would look alike.

“i would like the child,” she says, eyes like amber, and for the moment she appears younger than she ever has. there’s something eager in her, and it brings a life to her that thalia hasn’t seen in a long time.

thalia looks to her husband, and king celedor gives a minuscule twitch to his lip which is an equivalent to a shrug. she sets the young human on the ground, and ember holds out a single hand. the child looks behind him, then in front him, and takes cautious steps forward. he steps until he can take her hand, his own looking small and pale in hers. “it’s been a long time since i was able raise a child,” ember says, “i would like to do so again. will you come home with me?”

and thalia understands. elf children take many hundreds of year to mature, and ember would not risk dying on a child before it could take care of itself. but humans are candles that burn at both ends – hot, and fast. within a decade or two the child in front of them will be able to survive on his own, will not need lady ember to coddle him for centuries.

he nods, and finally opens his mouth to say, “i am philip.”

“hello philip,” lady ember smiles, “i am lady ember of the mother tree. now you are lord philip of the ember tree.”

they are elves. they don’t do something as gauche as gasp, but the sentiment comes out just the same. celedor’s mouth drops open a millimeter and thalia’s right index finger twitches. raise a human child like a beloved pet they could all understand – but to adopt one, to truly adopt one that she’d just met and didn’t know and bequeath to him the estate and title the noble name of the mother tree?

lady ember leads her new son away, and the gathered elves can do nothing but stare.

~

prince elion – eli, to everyone who doesn’t want the prince of the elves nursing a personal grudge against them – comes home in the dead of night, when he can slip past the guards and the fawning people on the street and sneak into the royal quarters.

“mother,” he greets as he enters the library. his father sleeps early, but his mother doesn’t go to bed until nearly dawn. he kneels by her side, and she runs a hand through his hair, tugging the leather tie off when it gets in her way. his mass of dark curly hair tumbles around his head, and as he shakes it out leaves other debris fall out. thalia sighs, but doesn’t remark on it.

“your hunt went well?” she asks, although she knows the answer. eli is one of the best hunters in the kingdom, and his hunting parties – comprised of the strongest and best among the noble families – are notoriously profitable.

he grins, teeth extra white against his skin, “of course, mother. did anything interesting happen while i was away?”

“the faerie maleficent came and bargained away a human prince,” she says, “she wanted you in return. your father gave her a servant boy instead.”

eli laughs, too loud and boisterous, in a way he would never allow himself to laugh around his father or his subjects.

~

philip thinks perhaps he should be screaming, or crying, or causing some sort of fuss about this new life and this old woman who insists she’s his mother now. but he’s never had a mother before, and this new place is beautiful. they live in palace carved out of an enormous tree – the mother tree that their name comes from – and philip is given a lot more freedom as an elf lordling than he was as a prince.

he hopes the boy who took his place is nice to his father, and doesn’t mind long evenings with only the servants for company. being a prince can be very lonely. he knows from experience.

ember gives him rooms and toys, but warns him that he has a lot of work ahead of him. as a human, he’s at a severe disadvantage here at the elf court. elves are faster than humans, stronger and smarter and wiser. “it sounds to me,” philip says, “that maybe they’re just older. if i had hundreds of years, I could be all those things too.” ember’s eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, and he returns it.

philip knows hard work. he was set to rule a whole nation, was set to lead whole armies. he knows training and learning and patience. learning to become an elf lord seems like it will be a lot easier than being a human king.

lady ember and her servants are harsh, but fair. in their home, in the mother tree, he is a pampered lord. out of it, however – he acquires many scars from training, from falling and failing. ember and her staff run him ragged into the ground, because he must be able to keep up with elves.

they have hundreds and hundreds of years to practice, to become strong and smart and fast. philip doesn’t have that long, so his mother forces him to do more, train harder, learn faster than would be expected of any elf.

so he learns. the first time he beats his trainer at an archery competition, he feels a swell of pride like nothing he’s felt before. as he inches his way to the level of his teachers, and then surpasses them, the feeling stays.

they’ve always been kind to him. but as his skill grows, they come to respect him, and that’s far more valuable.

~

eli hears of the human that lady ember of the mother tree took as her own – of course he does, it’s all anyone can talk about. but he doesn’t actually get a chance to see the boy, because lady ember keeps him safe on her lands, in her tree that none of them dare trespass on. so he assumes, like many, that she keeps him coddled and safe, away from those who would seek him harm, away from a world that would seek him harm.

then, two decades from when she gave young philip her name, lady ember finds him at court. she tilts her head, and he bows. he may be higher in rank, but he was raised to respect his elders, and lady ember is certainly that. “prince eli,” she says, “your next hunt is coming up, isn’t it?”

“yes, my lady,” he answers, wondering if she has a request. he doesn’t mind tracking down a certain type of meat or pelt for her – he likes the challenge, and likes lady ember.

she smiles at him, and for some reason he feels as if he’s staring into the jaws of a dragon. “excellent. might my son join you? he grows bored of hunting on his own.”

the last thing in the world eli wants to do is keep an eye on a bumbling, spoiled human. but this human is also the lord of the mother tree, and he can think of no response that wouldn’t bring his mother’s wrath down on his head. “of course, lady ember.”

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it’s been like a year since i got into taz (purely after hearing abt these 2) and back then u could still scroll back in the taakitz tag for a few minutes and find posts abt how kravitz loving taako would be “ooc”. anyway point is i’m glad they made it through everything in canon along with the fandom’s weirdness (those fanships were pretty fucked up huh?) and yet, here we are, and there they are, out there living the domestic sappy lovey-dovey dream. i’m happy for them

8

vm rewatch � 3x08 Lord of the Pi’s

anonymous asked:

Okay but my fave trope in literally anything is one partner going absolutely speechless when they see their partner all dressed up for a date or somethin, and all i can imagine is rad all dressed up in something fancy (either a tux or a really cute dress) and ray is just starstruck by how handsome rad is

Okay but honestly same Nonnie, like I live for that trope which is whY THIS GOT SO LONG BC I GOT REALLY INTO IT SORRY;;;; TTwTT



same, Raymond~ TTTwTTT <3;;;;

Phone Call

content: Dean gets a phone call at work. And the person on the other end of the line is not the one he expected.

word count: 1,147

[AO3]


Dean almost ignores the ringing cell phone next to him on the table because he’s seriously not in the mood to talk to anyone with an empty stomach and only about fifteen minutes left of his lunch break to change that.

But as soon as he notices the name “CAS” flashing on his phone’s screen Dean finds himself smiling brightly, the sandwich in front of him forgotten.

“Hey, Cas,” he says cheerfully after picking up. The warmth in his chest spreads instantly just thinking about the man on the other end of line and he feels like a giddy teenager once again. It’s been about ten months since they made their relationship official and Dean can’t imagine this intense feeling of rightness to ever go away.

“Hey, Dean,” a voice greets him that is most definitely not Castiel, sounding way too young and way too female.

Dean, however, doesn’t feel put out by it. On the contrary, his grin only grows.

“Claire, honey,” he says gently. “Does your dad know you’re using his phone?”

“Yes,” Claire claims, though there is a waver in her tone Dean knows way too well.

He narrows his eyes. “Are you lying to me right now? Remember what we told you about that?”

Claire sighs as if it’s a heavy burden to put up with some grown-ups. “Daddy knows,” she insists. “He gave it to me, so I can play with it.”

Dean chuckles. “Playing Candy Crush is not the same as calling some people, sweetie. Can you imagine the phone bill if you’d accidentally dial someone in China?”

“I don’t wanna call China,” she counters, the frown on her face actually audible through the phone. “I just wanna call you.”

Dean feels his heart seize. “That’s very sweet, Claire –”

“I miss you,” she interjects, her voice lower all of a sudden. “When will you be back and make us some burgers?”

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anonymous asked:

Keith's blog hit like, a serious soft spot??? He sounds so lonely and like??? I'm lonely too??? I used to feel really connected but the moment I changed I felt like I got thrown away. Keith's been thrown away for so long and he lost the one person who never gave up on him. That really hurt.

Anon I am so sorry to hear that. Feeling like you don’t belong in your own skin or like everything’s changing and there’s nothing to latch onto during the upheaval–it’s incredibly isolating, but I promise plenty of other people have been there too and you’re not alone. I’ve felt this way for a long while too, and I’m glad I ran into Voltron when I did because seeing someone I relate to as much as Keith means a lot to me. 

It’s strange to me when people say that they didn’t notice Keith’s had trouble with his emotions or that he’s always bottling things up and very passionate about everything. That he has abandonment issues and feels incredibly alone. That’s all stuff we’ve seen clearly in canon, he’s just sitting down and point blank saying it. But it’s always been there. And even though the other paladins are all going through a lot now, I think it’s important to remember Keith has carried this trauma with him for his entire life–He’s got this emotional side to him…I mean, he’s experienced loss in his life, in his childhood.

And it always kind of rubs me the wrong way when people try to say that anyone else but Shiro has somehow managed to alleviate that loneliness, because we see time and again this is just not the case. He straight up says everyone gave up on him except for Shiro. Not “Team Voltron,” just Shiro. When holo-Shiro tries to stop Keith and says “We’re your family,” Keith counters with the fact that Shiro is, but fails to mention anyone else. Later, the hologram threatens to leave–and in doing so, claims Keith will be all alone. And he believes it. Even if he still has the other paladins, that means nothing without Shiro. 

After his team promises they’re all there for him, Keith literally tried to talk to Shiro by speaking to empty space in Black lion rather than opening up and reaching out to the rest of his team when they’re all right there and willing to listen. That’s how much more Shiro means to him. During The Hunted, Keith throws himself headfirst into danger without ever stopping to consider the safety of his team because he already feels like he has nothing left to lose. And while he’ll do anything to save Shiro and always prioritize him over the mission, he never affords anyone else the same courtesy. He’s touch averse, but still readily latches onto Shiro. Shiro is the person he desperately wants to see

And you know, it really says something that of all things–he traces his trauma back to how his mom left him. And he does use the word “left,” does very much imply he was abandoned rather than just saying she was someone he never met or dead. Keith believes his mom had no reason to be there for him, that he somehow wasn’t good enough or worth staying for. He felt unwanted and unloved. And in the BOM, as soon as Kogane mentions his mom, you can see how much that means to him, how badly he wants to connect with her again

And yet, the most notable thing about his mom here is her oppressive absence from this scene. Even in his wildest dreams, his mind can’t conjure up a convincing enough projection to make him believe that his mom would ever come back for him. And when he’s given a last chance to reach out to her? To find out who he is? He walks away–from both his mom and dad. But he still chases after Shiro

Looking at the trial and everything else in the series, it’s pretty clear that the three most impressionable people in Keith’s life are his parents and Shiro. And yet, he doesn’t tell his dad how much he means to him when he gets the chance–doesn’t say anything like “My life would be a lot different without you.” He doesn’t beg for his dad to stay or come with him the way he does with Shiro. He doesn’t initiate any kind of physical contact with his dad. He hasn’t seen the guy in years, and he feels far too uncomfortable and alienated to even shake his hand or give him a hug. Yet he’ll hold onto Shiro like his very life depends on it. 

Shiro is literally the most important person in his life and his one anchor, the one who he “latches onto at times because he’s the only thing that can really calm him down and keep him in check.” He felt like everyone else had abandoned him and any semblance of home was completely shattered. But he was able to find a new home with Shiro. And after a lifetime of pushing people away so he doesn’t get hurt again, he’s found the one person who’s worth the risk. And that’s why Keith will do anything to save him 

best of me | (m)

pairing— park jimin x reader | feat. jung hoseok
genre/warnings— angst, implied smut, mature content, unrequited love, cheating, friends to lovers, mixed povs
words— 7,554

:: summary— Jimin has been in love with you, his best friend, since as long as he can remember. Struggling with his feelings he makes a terrible mistake, but maybe there’s a silver lining…? Maybe he can make you see what’s right in front of you…

note inspired by treat you better // serendipity // lean on me

:: prequel drabble here.

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anonymous asked:

Okay that Derek's soft hands post was awesome, but it was funny too cos like, imagine if his hands aren't actually that soft? My uncle's been working roadworks for years and a few years back he started buying Dove soap instead of the cheap brand and he loved it so much he started buying the moisturiser too and like, at least twice a day he would lather moisturise the shit out a them then go around telling everyone to feel how soft his hands were. But they still felt like sandpaper and no one (1)

would say anything because he’s this big, rough as guts dude named Spike who was in prison for years and god help whoever tells my uncle who loves to linger in the health and beauty aisle to see the different moisturisers, that they aren’t doing jack for his hands.

Sorry for the very late reply to this! Now all I can imagine is Derek who tries to pamper himself with lotions and potions but no matter what he does, it never seems to work out? No matter how much he tries to make himself feel soft and good, it always backfires. It’s either got an ingredient that make his senses go hay-wire (apparently aloe-vera is the worst) or it just doesn’t make him feel better. Derek imagines it’s a similar feeling to when people expect amazing sex, only to feel unsatisfied after. Derek’s never expected amazing sex from anyone though, not even Kate when he trusted her, so he doesn’t know if the comparison is all that accurate. 

It’s after he tries the Peaches and Cream Ultra Lotion that he hits rock bottom, sitting on the loft floor, staring at the offending lotion bottle. He’s pretty sure the right hand side peach is taunting him. For the smoothest skin, reads the speech bubble. Derek rubs at the pads of his fingers and tries not to get upset because it’s a fucking lotion. But here he is anyway, drowning in the after math of yet another lie. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there for but it’s long enough that Stiles shows up, armed with a bat. At first, it’s clear Stiles thinks Derek is hurt - probably because he is still sulking on the floor - but the moment he crouches in front of him, he immediately takes in the lotion bottle and raises an eyebrow. Derek expects him to laugh or throw some careless comment his way. Braces himself for it. What he doesn’t expect is for Stiles to pluck the bottle from Derek’s hand and replace it with his own. He holds it loose enough that Derek could pull away if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to.

Instead, he sniffs. This big, loud, wet sniff that he wants to be embarrassed about. Except, he isn’t. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Stiles give himself a concussion from a chicken baguette once (he still doesn’t know how Stiles managed that one) or maybe it’s because Stiles is smiling at him; smiling in a way Derek rarely sees. It’s the smile he reserves for his dad, for Scott. It’s a smile you earn, and it’s being directed at him right now. It’s a smile, Derek realises, Stiles has shown him often. For months now. He doesn’t know what that means. 

He squeezes Stiles’ hand anyway, shrugs a shoulder and picks up the lotion bottle again. Grips it. Hard.

It explodes, and before he knows it, they are both on their sides, laughing. Derek doesn’t know if Stiles is laughing because he is or because they are both covered in pink gunk. 

“It smells like peaches,” Stiles wheezes, as if that explains everything. “Derek Hale. Likes to smell like peaches.” He clutches his side harder and uses his legs to push himself further into Derek’s space, until his head is in Derek’s lap. “I think you’re amazing just as you are, wolf man, but if you want my mom kept recipes for stuff like that.” He nods to the now broken bottle, still in Derek’s hand. “They are all in a box under my bed. You want to come over later, get some dinner with me and my old man? There’s a Mets game on.” 

Derek is silent for several moments, trying to decipher what Stiles is saying. Eventually, he decides not to overthink it. If he overthinks it, Stiles might take the offer back. Might drop his hand. 

Derek really doesn’t want Stiles to drop his hand.    

“I can make veggie burgers.” He coughs. Serious. “From scratch.” 

Stiles smiles with his eyes, brings Derek’s hand up to his mouth but doesn’t kiss it, like Derek thinks he’s going to. Just looks down fondly, like they’ve done this a hundred times before. Shit, maybe they have, he thinks, swallowing. In their own way. “You learn that in werewolf school?” 

Derek laughs. “Something like that,” he says, thinking of his Grandma, who taught him everything he knows: cooking, sewing, how to swear in eight different languages. When she was old enough, Grandpa Hale taught Laura how to drive while Grandma Hale read The Princess Bride to Derek in Spanish every Friday night. Derek always thought he got the better end of the deal. 

“Show me.” Stiles grins, a challenge, and somethings shifts inside Derek. He tries to frown, because it’s expected of him, but he ends up blushing instead when Stiles leans up and whispers, “next time, I’ll get you one of those aprons that say kiss the cook on them, huh?” in his ear. “I think you’ll find I’m very good at obeying instructions.” 

Derek rolls his eyes and pushes him away. His palms are sweating. “You don’t even know what the word ‘obey’ means.” 

Standing up, he starts towards the kitchen, only to find himself on the floor again, tripping over nothing, when Stiles calls after him, “maybe I just need a firm hand to keep me in check!” 

The bastard doesn’t even look sorry when Derek pounces on him, pinning Stiles’ hands above his head - rough hands, just like his, he realises- but Derek is too busy torn between wrestling Stiles and kissing him to care. 

BTS Reacts: their gf walking around in only their shirt

Hyung line / Maknae Line [coming soon]

Requested by infiresmannnnnnn 

A/N: im sorry if it’s not quite what you had in mind 😅😅 i just got a bit carried away since it’s my first request lol. i really wanted to show off my writing style more than anything. hope you dont mind the length (i honestly dont know how some of them got to be so long tbh *cough hoseok cough*)!!! Also I wrote so much that I hit post limit part way through Jimin’s one so I had to split it into Hyung and Maknae lines. Hope that’s okay!

(Gif’s not mine)

(WARNING: got some good ol’ PG13 makeout sessions up in here - not explicit sex obviously, but given the request you can gather its not going to be completely innocent, just wanna give you all a heads up so no one comes complaining to me lol)

Jin/Kim Seokjin:

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Jin had been in your kitchen, cooking both of you dinner before he had to go back to his dorms. He had a relatively early schedule tomorrow with his members, yet he insisted on making you proper food.

“You know how much I like cooking, though, Jagiya.” He insisted. “Go have a shower. I’ll be done by the time you’re out.” He said, chuckling at you as you huffed out a “fine”.

Twenty minutes later, you were done. Upon realising you had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with you to the bathroom, you sighed, pulling on your recently discarded shirt, that barely covered your ass. Scuttling around your apartment, looking for the sweatpants you ‘swear were right there, on the couch’, Jin called you for dinner.

You walked into the kitchen-dining area with a confused frown on your face.

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How do I know if I have too much exposition?

ex·po·si·tionˌekspəˈziSH(ə)n/ (noun)

a comprehensive description and explanation of an idea or theory

As a basic rule of thumb: if your exposition distracts from the main narrative, then it’s too much.

That sounds a lot simpler than it actually is, though, doesn’t it? Because it’s difficult to tell when we’ve pulled the reader’s attention away and when we haven’t within our own work.

That’s why beta-readers are so helpful because getting a fresh eye can do wonders for helping see things in our work that we’re too close to notice. A good beta-reader (or two or seven) is an invaluable tool for a writer. Find a few friends or family whose opinion you trust and listen to them when they have feedback on your work. Their word isn’t gold–you don’t have to make every change they suggest–but it is still important for your development. 

But that’s not really the issue, right? This post is about what you can do to help your own work improve!

First, if you’re fretting over this and you have not written your novel yet…then stop reading this post and go write your book! In your first draft, you should write all the words. (Maybe not all, but lots.) It’s okay to write four pages of exposition in the middle of scene in your first draft because in this version, you’re just telling yourself this story. You’re organizing notes, thoughts, outlines, etc. into a narrative. It won’t be perfect, and that’s great. You can’t move onto the next stage of book-making until you’ve got a first draft, so through caution to the wind and write!

This post is mostly for those of you who have finished work and are going over it prepared to edit, rewrite, scramble it up, and starting making that mess-of-a-first draft into a finished, wonderful product.

So…it’s time to edit your book

Zoom in on a section of exposition and take every fact you’ve written about and ask: 

Does this advance the plot? Do we come to a deeper understanding of a main character because of this? 

If the answer to both of those is no, then cut it (in this draft. Don’t worry. You still have those words written in previous drafts!) Do this as you read through for any section of exposition you find.

Then, when you’ve shaved off the irrelevant bits, start asking yourself: Is there a more subtle way to weave this into the action or dialogue of the narrative? If no, but it’s still important, then leave it. If yes, then try to do some rewriting where you have these cultural tidbits revealed in the actions and speech of your characters.

For example:

Allendra was from the southern tribes. Their main diet consisted of crop, food produced from the land. Wildlife beyond the occasional crow or squirrel was rare, so the southern tribe had come to view their abundant crops as a gift from the gods. They were vegetarians as a matter of, not only happenstance, but religion. That religion had been instilled in her by her parents, primarily her mother, and even though she’d left her homeland and was wandering new, unfamiliar territories for the sake of her own people, her mother’s hypothetical approval still drove Allendra’s actions. When presented with meat, Allendra did not know what to do. She was out of her league here, in this strange culture. And she didn’t know how to turn away the offer without being rude.

vs.

“Street vendors?” Allendra said, lifting a brow. “But they’re all selling…bloody things.”

Randa laughed. “Oh, Ally, don’t betray yourself as such an alien. That’s meat! Everyone around here eats it. It’s good for you.”

“I haven’t…I don’t eat…It’s just…” Allendra stumbled over her words. She didn’t want to be rude. Her mother would slap the back of her head if she was rude to this new hostess. And yet…what would mother say if Allendra waltzed up to this vendor and took a bite of the meat? Allendra shuddered to think.

The gods wouldn’t be too thrilled, either, but it was the image of mother’s disappointed face that made Allendra turn away from the street vendors and keep walking. Homesickness filled her gut. “Sorry, Randa. I just can’t.”

See you can do to make cultural facts fit into the story or character development. Here are some ways to think about that, as you attempt to change flat exposition into engaging storytelling:

Could this worldbuilding exposition be used to:

  • Invoke an emotion in a character?
  • Create conflict between characters?
  • Create conflict within a character?
  • Add tension to the main plot?
  • Add tension to an important subplot?
  • Create a funny or awkward situation?
  • Motivate a character’s actions?
  • Prevent a character from taking necessary action?

Basically, ask yourself this main question: How can I show the importance of this cultural element, rather than telling the reader how important or relevant it is?

Sometimes, exposition is needed. It’s not evil and it has a lot of power to get bullet points of information to your reader quickly. However, you–the writer–always need to make sure you’re letting exposition have power by using it sparingly. There are always multiple options on how to present information to your reader. It’s your duty to make sure you consider them all and use the one that best fits your narrative.

And now that you’ve finished this draft of editing and rewriting, set your novel aside for a while. A week, a month, a year…whatever you need. Come back to it later with a fresher perspective and see how your edits fit together. If you find that some of the exposition that you cut needs to be put back, then you can always do that. You can see the flow better, and do more editing to help your new rewrites fit effortlessly into the narrative. You are the writer. YOU HAVE THE POWER.

Happy building!

anonymous asked:

oh god seeing that stability transcript i cant believe some people still force their black paladin l4nce idea ahskdjskf glad that they dont even entertain that question. also "from last year" let it sleep my pal (sorry to vent your way ahskdj)

I mean, we’re all going to interpret characters differently, so of course we won’t always agree. And wow, I wish I got to ask questions at two different Voltron panels!! They’re living the dream. 

But yeah, personally I never understood this thing with black paladin Lance and never saw it as something that was ever implied in canon. If anything, we’re shown just how bad a leader Lance would be in season 3. I feel like it’s often glossed over or forgotten, but Lance was incredibly insensitive and selfish. Lance’s entire reason for wanting to lead is merely for the sake of his own glory. 

And the look on Keith’s face when Lance instigates him to the breaking point is absolutely heart-wrenching. He lashes out in another grief-stricken outburst, and the effect is immediate. The whole room falls silent as Keith panics at how much he’s revealed and quickly closes off again. Keith was mourning, grieving the loss of the one person who never gave up on him. He cared about Shiro more than anyone else in the universe. It’s clear he’s struggling to cope even all these months later, withdrawn and temperamental and always on edge. He’s traumatized, but Lance still has the audacity to disregard Shiro’s last and will and testament for the sake of his own damn ego.

But even after Lance sees how much he’s hurt Keith, even after he clearly looks concerned–he just doesn’t stop. For the sake of salvaging his own pride and nothing else, he continues to flagrantly spit on what Shiro wanted and just how much his will meant to Keith. And for what? Just to one-up Keith in some imagined game where no one else is keeping score? Sure. Tear on the guy in mourning when he’s just lost the only long-term support he’s ever had in his life and accuse him of being a lying glory hog. That’ll help. 

When he’s trying to pilot Black, Lance spends more time waiting in the seat than anyone else. While Keith is saying things like “I know this is what you wanted for me Shiro. But I’m not you. I can’t lead them like you,” and begging “please, no”–Lance is sitting there telling himself “This is your moment.” See the difference? Keith was concerned about the overall wellbeing of the team and wanted to do right by Shiro. Lauren straight up said the Black lion saw in Keith what Shiro did, and it was through their bond that she was able to sense Keith’s intentions and merit. Meanwhile, all Lance wanted was to be in charge because he felt like he deserved the glory and attention. I fail to see how he’s mature enough to be the leader over Keith when his entire drive for the job was flimsy and steeped in his own ego and taste for glory. 

But hey! You know what? That’s okay! Not everyone is meant to be the black paladin. And I think people have really lost sight of what that means–being Black’s pilot doesn’t mean you’re the “best” and it’s just a popularity contest to put your fav on type. The whole point of the lions combining is that everyone has their own strengths and they’re equal parts of a whole. And hey, they’re all still learning! It’s okay if Lance didn’t really have a grasp of what leading meant yet. Yeah, he’s eager to prove himself–something we see in Allura as well. And given the Blue lion’s nature as this “mothering” lion who fosters growth in aspiring pilots, it’s easy to see why she chose Lance and Allura. But then Lance also really grows up here and understands that Voltron is about being a team and not being on top. He respects Black enough to accept her decision and encourages Keith to take up the position instead of tearing him down. And just comparing how he acted at the beginning of the episode, that shows he’s grown a lot. I’m proud of him. 

So when fandom reinforces this idea that somehow Lance is the true black paladin and Keith is apparently incompetent, it’s always bothered me. I feel for one thing it shows people don’t really care about Keith. And for another, I think it’s people misinterpreting Lance and undermining his character development as well. If his strength in character was to acknowledge when to “put his own need for glory aside” and support what’s best for the team–then why take that development away from him? 

GIMME
THAT SPAGHETTI
(it’s a good day to have a good day)
I NEED
(it’s a good day to have a good day)
THAT GOOD GOOD SAUCE

… i sure did spend a terrible amount of (occasionally distracted) time animating a shitpost of a ditty. 

just saying, Papyrus drunk = Good Times. not advised to mix with local ceiling fans.

(also i slightly blame lovely @asksansallthethings for this one, she tagged me in a decidedly more… risque ditty and i got the idea for animating drunk Pap from it because of course i did)

truths & dares [r.t.]

Originally posted by itslosersclub


Pairing: Richie Tozier x reader

Summary: After dealing with Pennywise, the Losers’ Club decides to throw Beverly a farewell party, which ends in an embarrassing game of truth or dare.


You all sat in Bill’s basement, hunched over and lying down in ridiculous positions as you passed around popcorn and candy.

After the whole fiasco with Pennywise, you and the rest of the Losers had decided to face your fears, and had begun by cleaning out Bill’s basement. It was where Pennywise had appeared to him that rainy night.

Now clean and dry, the basement was bathed in a warm glow, the light emanating from the multiple lights strung across the room.

You were laying on top of a blanket, your head in Bill’s lap, and humming slightly as he absentmindedly ran his hands through your hair. Neither one of you noticed Richie sitting up straighter and shooting hurt little glances your way. 

You sighed softly, the feeling of Bill smoothing your hair lulling you to sleep. You were about to drift off when a loud yelp was heard, and you sat up straight. You looked over at Richie in concern, watching as his cheeks bloomed with red before he turned around and pinched Eddie, who also let out a loud squeal.

“You motherfucker! See what you did? You woke (Y/N) up!” Richie hissed, making sure only Eddie could hear him.

You glanced at Bill, exchanging quizzical looks before looking at Beverly, who raised her eyebrow and smirked at you before tilting her head towards Richie.

You felt your cheeks heat up as Beverly turned to Eddie, who was smiling so widely, you were sure his cheeks would get stuck that way. Your eyes met Eddie’s and you quickly looked away when he gave you the same look Beverly had.

“Why the fuck are you smiling like that dumbass?” Richie’s voice broke the silence. Eddie turned and faced the trashmouth, seemingly having a silent conversation before Richie’s eyes widened and he looked down, a bright red blush adorning his cheeks.

“Wow,” you laughed, laying your head back down on Bill’s lap. “I have never seen anyone get Richie to shut up that quickly. Congrats Eds.”

Richie’s head shot up in disbelief before he noticed the teasing smile on your face and he simply stared. 

Eddie nudged him, making Richie shake his head slightly before he frowned and turned to him once more. “Hey! How come you let her call you ‘Eds”?”

Eddie snorted before shooting you a smile. “Because she’s not an annoying asshole who does it to irritate me.”

Richie’s eyes widened and he lunged at Eddie, making him squeak as they tackled each other.

“Alright guys!” Mike clapped his hands. “We’re here to spend time with Beverly before she leaves. Not fight with each other.”

“Yeah!” Beverly exclaimed. “Now how about we do something fun?”

Uneasy glances were exchanged as you all noticed Bev’s sinister expression. Slowly, one by one, you all nodded, causing her face to light up with a wide grin.

“Great,” she clapped. “Who goes first?”


You hadn’t been playing longer than ten minutes and yet Mike had been dared to sing his guilty pleasure (P.Y.T. by Michael Jackson), Stan had to talk about his crush for three minutes (a girl who sat behind him in math), Bill had to repeat tongue twisters (a moderately harsh dare from Richie), and Ben had been dared to recite a poem to the group (which made Beverly blush as she listened).

You had only been picked once, by Eddie, and you had picked truth. Although he had glanced at Richie, causing you to panic, he had proceeded to ask if you were crushing on anyone. You had responded ‘yes’, throwing a quick glance at Richie as the rest of the Losers giggled and whispered to each other, causing your face to heat up and Richie to grow agitated as he asked who they were talking about.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when it was Bill’s turn to choose, when you realized that maybe playing had been a bad idea.


“So (Y/N), t-t-truth or d-d-dare?” Bill’s voice rang through the room.

You hummed slightly, leaning up on your elbows. Feeling slightly adventurous, you answered. “Dare.”

Bill hesitated slightly, trying to think of something before he sighed in frustration. You watched as Beverly leaned in and whispered something in his ear, causing Bill to laugh out loud before turning to you and speaking. “I d-d-dare you to p-p-pick the most a-a-attractive person in this ro-o-om and spend seven m-m-minutes in the closet w-w-w-with them.”

You felt your stomach flip as you slowly stood up, shooting both him and Beverly a harsh glare. Your were met with wide eyes and innocent smiles.

You walked over to the small closet next to the shelf and took a deep breath before turning around. “Well Tozier, would you care to join me?”

Richie, who had been glaring at Bill, looked over at you in shock. You bit your lip as his eyes widened, making him look like an owl due to the fact that they were magnified by his thick glasses.

“M-me?” Richie whispered. You nodded. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

“Go!” Eddie hissed, nudging Richie with his elbow and cackling as he stumbled to his feet.

Richie made his way over to you, fidgeting with the hem of his button-down as he mumbled under his breath as Bill & Bev stood and made their way over to you as well.

“Alright,” Bev began, a large smile on her face. “You’ll go in there and we’ll lock the door from the outside. Mike will keep time and once the seven minutes are up, we’ll let you out okay?”

You glanced at Richie before nodding quickly.

“A-a-alright. In you go,” Bill stated, pushing you both in and locking the door.


You sighed as you stood in the darkness, placing your hands on the wall behind you and sliding down until you were in a sitting position. You could feel Richie shifting around next to you before he copied your actions and slid down next to you.

You heard Richie snort and turned to look at him, your eyes scanning the outline of his face as they adjusted to the darkness.

“You know that those assholes are probably listening in on us right? They just want to know what the fuck is going on in here,” Richie whispered.

“I know,” you replied quietly.

Silence ensued for a few more seconds, your heart beating faster and harder as Richie scooted closer to you.

“So do you really think I’m the most attractive person here?” Richie broke the silence.

This time, it was you who snorted. “Careful Tozier, your ego is beginning to show.“

Richie barked out a slight laugh. “Well since we’re stuck in here and shit for the next few minutes, I have something I should tell you.”

You sat up straighter, turning to him and smiling as you noticed him fidgeting with his glasses.

“I think you’re really fucking pretty,” Richie whispered. Your heart froze.

“I’m pretty fucking sure that my heart beats faster than that motherfucking roadrunner when I’m around you and even though Eddie says that you like me, I find that hard to believe because you’re a great fucking person and I’m just the trashmouth who makes dumbass comments about Ed’s mom and-“

“Richie,” you cut him off. 

“Yeah?” he replied, looking up.

“Shut up,” you said, leaning in and pressing your lips against his.

It was barely a kiss. It was a soft and awkward and barely-there brush of the lips yet yo you and Richie, it seemed like the best thing in the world. You felt your heart begin to palpitate and you could hear Richie gasp as his breath hitched, one of his hands coming up to brush your cheek softly. 

You pulled away and looked at Richie, whose eyes were still closed with his mouth still slightly puckered. He looked beautiful, the soft light that was coming in through the bottom of the door surrounding him in a pale yellow halo.

He opened his eyes slowly, a goofy smile making its way across his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “You like me? You really like me back?”

You nodded shyly as he let out a delighted laugh. “This whole time I fucking thought that you liked Bill. I truly did. Why the fuck would you like me? But you do like me! Thank fuck for Bev’s dare.”

You chuckled slightly as Richie quieted down. “I would never like Bill. No offense to him, he’s great, but he’s like a brother to me. Besides, he likes Bev.”

Richie laughed breathlessly before quieting down.

“Can I- can I kiss you again?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” you whispered back, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand brushed your hair back. He leaned in again, your lips meeting in a slightly less awkward kiss. Your hand had found its way into his hair, messing with his curls before you felt yourselves falling back as Mike opened the door. You collapsed onto the ground and pulled away from each other, a heavy blush coating both of your cheeks as you noticed all the Losers standing there with varying degrees of smug happiness displayed on their faces.

“I told you she liked you back Richie!” Eddie exclaimed.

“I’d say they definitely like each other, with the way they were sucking each other’s faces off,” Stan said nonchalantly, a knowing smirk on his face.

As the rest of the Losers broke out into laughter, you and Richie both groaned.

Shut up Stanley!”


Tags: @delicrieux