i blacked out for a half an hour

  • Garrus: Shepard. So I guess this is--
  • Shepard: Just like old times?
  • Garrus: Hm. Might be the last chance we get to say that.
  • Shepard: Think we're going to lose?
  • Garrus: No. I think we're about to kick the reapers back into whatever black hole they crawled out of. Then, we're going to retire somewhere warm and tropical and live off the royalties from the vids. Maybe even find out what a Turian-Human baby looks like.
  • Shepard: I'm game. Though I think adoption's a better idea--biology may not cooperate.
  • Garrus: Hmm... I suppose there will be a lot of little Krogan around soon.
  • Shepard: We just have to beat the reapers first.
  • Garrus: James told me there's an old saying here on Earth. 'May you be in Heaven half an hour before the Devil knows you're dead.' Not sure if Turian heaven is the same as yours, but if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there, meet me at the bar. I'm buying.
  • Shepard: We're a team, Garrus. There's no Shepard without Vakarian. So you better remember to duck.
  • Garrus: Sorry, Turians don't know how. But I'll improvise. And Shepard... forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you...
  • Garrus: Come back alive. It'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.
What is Target even?

• Every time I go in a Target, I become invisible. People can’t hear me talking to them even when I’m standing right in front of them. Waving in their faces doesn’t seem to work.

• I once walked up to an entire group of red-vest-wearing employees and had all five of them walk away from me mid-question.

•They seem to migrate from the toy section to the food section like soulless jellyfish.

• They don’t know if Target sells dish soap.

• I don’t know if Target sells dish soap.

• Once, a person walked over, picked up a fuzzy throw-blanket out of my cart, and left with it while I stood there telling them that it was mine.

• The always weirdly crowded shoe section that’s mostly sandals.

• Last month I stopped in the mini Starbucks area of Target and stepped up to a surprisingly empty counter (for the middle of the day). No one appeared for the entire twenty minutes that I waited, but the lights went off and on a few times.

• I once saw a man entering Target with a screaming child over his shoulder. She had an ‘Out of Order’ sign in her hand, and kept repeating, ’I don’t want to go here.

• Their clothing sizes are darkest black magic.

• The changing rooms. (Before they vanished.)

• I lost four people in the middle of the furniture isle. I found them a half hour later in Hot Topic.

• I once stopped at a Target for a bathroom break during a long road-trip. When I entered the store, half the lights were off in the back section, and someone was yelling, “STOP IT, YOU GIANT BITCH!”

• There’s always a questionable swamp in the corner of the Target bathroom.

• When they switch all the moving/talking Halloween items over to the moving/talking Christmas items.

• I’ve seen eight different dogs wandering around by themselves.

• The local Target has birds flying around inside all the time.

• When I was a teenager there was this guy who drove around the Target parking lot blasting the chicken dance and dancing with his shoulders.

• I’ve seen a thousand mirrors break in Target during ‘move into your dorm room’ season. Doubt anybody buried a potato.

• They owe me $20

• I keep finding children in the clothing racks. (I don’t keep them.)

• You can never return anything, ever.

• If you eat their food you probably will never be able to return to the human world.

• Every picture I take in there comes out weird. Blurry, too bright, smudgy, wavy, too dark, weirdly green???

• That last checkout lane at the end with all the ‘as seen on Tv’ items and a million creepy jugs of green liquid for kids.

• I have 14 year-old socks from Target that look brand new. (My clothes typically develop holes the moment I look at them.)

• The animal heads.

• Pit of Death (aka: the far back corner where seasonal stuff goes to die.)

• I once kicked one of the giant red orbs outside and it moved.

• I watched a guy causally glide out of the loading doors and into the parking lot on a huge dolly.

• The ‘Is This Actually Only A Dollar Or Is It Five?’ section.

• I spent a half hour listening to a guy tell me why I needed an IPhone or I can’t be a part of human society. This was before the first iPhone was even for sale in the store.

• It’s bigger on the inside.

• I found this hideous lump of a fur hat for sale last winter, and wore it around the store my entire time there. Still invisible.

This is cliche and short but I actually finished it so

“Dex." 

"What." 

"I need another word for ‘cleansed’." 

"Do I look like a Thesaurus to you, Nurse?" 

"Chill, dude." 

”… Purified.“ 

Nursey looked up before he could stop himself, shock on his features for barely half a second before switching to… Pleased? Content. No, chuffed. (God, Nursey wanted to use that word in a poem one day. Chuffed.) 

"Thanks." 

Dex, however, didn’t look up. The keys on his thick black laptop clicked almost continuously, and Nursey did not debate internally on whether he was writing an essay or lines of code, because he had poetry assignments to finish for tomorrow. While not procrastinating, he shifted his mind to the whirring machine- it was really fucking old, but the thing was, Dex was the kind of person to repair his own electronics instead of upgrading them. (Like, with pliers and everything. He’s seen it happen.) The thing was in really good shape. Similar to the way that Hugh Jackman was by no means a spry twenty year old, yet looked like it would take nothing short of a battering ram to knock him over. A nice, solid, dependable- 

"What the hell are you muttering about now?” Dex muttered, the hypocrite.

“Aw, nothing.” (Hugh Jackman) “The next line.” (Hugh Jackman as a laptop)

“What’ve you got?" 

Keep reading

FUCK YOU - [ JIKOOK ]

Originally posted by gayjikookadi


In which you have the first sentence your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your shoulder, Jimin’s being “Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh”.

Even though Jungkook doesn’t have as bad luck as Jimin does, he isn’t completely satisfied with his “Fuck you” tattoo either.




Jimin had been only three when his mother had told him about soulmates for the first time. He could remember it like it happened just yesterday. That was how clear the memory was.

“Jimin,” she’d said, sitting him down on his bed with an intense look in her eyes. “In your life, you will meet one person who is unlike anyone else. You’ll feel a pull towards them - the first time you lock eyes, you will feel like you’re suddenly whole again, after feeling like you’ve been missing something, no, someone your whole life.

You’ll know them when you meet, but if you ever doubt yourself, a tattoo will appear on your shoulder when you turn five. The first words they’ll ever say to you will be carved into your skin until the day your soulmate says them to you, the very day you’ll first talk to each other.”

Here, she smiled. Like she was remembering something amazing, something special. “And when you meet them, Jimin, don’t you ever let them go. If you lose them, you will feel broken again, and you will lose your will to live and die. Don’t you ever let them go.”

Jimin had thought that the first words his soulmate would say to him would be beautiful and poetic, that the words he would get would be something he could treasure.

Boy, was he wrong.

On his fifth birthday, his whole family gathered around the little boy. On the precise time he’d been born, his shoulder had started to bloom with a numbing pain, just like he’d been told multiple times before.

It took ten minutes - twenty, tops - until the feeling had finally started to fade. That was when he got the courage to glance at the tattoo resting on his collarbone.

“Mom, what’s a boner?” He had asked, as innocent as a lamb, after reading the sentence. She’d gasped harshly, as had most of his relatives, then took a look at his shoulder.

Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh.

At the time, he had no idea what a ‘morning boner’ was, but as the seasons changed and the years passed, he found out exactly what it meant.

And Jimin started to wish that soulmates didn’t exist, so badly that he almost believed it.

Almost.

Because no matter how hard he tried to lie to himself, the truth was that he had the tattoo on his shoulder, and it would never change. And honestly, Jimin couldn’t help hating his soulmate just a bit for it.


***

Jimin pulled the oversized black and white striped shirt over his head and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The shirt left quite a bit of shoulder exposed, and he sighed as he traced a finger over the words. The black letters looked harsh on Jimin’s tan skin, and it made him cringe.

He’d gotten used to the tattoo over the years, but his friends hadn’t. Because of his (stupid) soulmate, he’d become the butt of fifty too many jokes, and, whenever his friends laughed, he wanted to break the nose of whoever would be brash enough to say this.

Stupid soulmates.

Jimin had sworn, when he’d been seventeen and incredibly annoyed after a particularly harsh (but slightly funny) joke, that the first thing he’d say to his soulmate when he met them, no matter who they were, would be a big “fuck you”.

That was what he thought about as he squeezed a generous amount of thick foundation on his fingers and started to spread it on his tattoo. His friends were bad enough; he didn’t need any strangers seeing it at today’s party, which was being hosted but the richest and most arrogant brat on the whole campus. Probably the whole freaking world.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jimin didn’t know the guy - hell, he hadn’t even talked to him - but he already didn’t like him. He was handsome and rich, and he definitely knew it. Jimin only had agreed to go to the stupid thing because his best friend, Hoseok, had convinced him to. In fact, Hoseok wanted Jimin to go with him so he could hook him up with Yoongi, Jimin’s other best friend. Not an exciting prospect, honestly.

“Jimin, come on! We’re going to be late!” Hoseok yelled through the bathroom door, banging on the wood with heavy fists. It was ten o’clock in the evening, and Hoseok was eager to meet with Yoongi, who would (hopefully) be his date for the night.

“Shut up, I’m coming,” Jimin mumbled, putting the foundation away when his tattoo was covered up the way it was supposed to be. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, glaring. Hoseok knew he hated being rushed, and his roommate gave him an innocent smile.

Hoseok was dressed in black skinny jeans and a plain white top, a blazer and sneakers thrown on for good measure. Very billionaire-playboy-chilling-with-a-glass-of-scotch.

“Woah, you look good”, he complimented him, and Jimin’s glare turned into a smile. He’d parted his hair to reveal his forehead, and even though he wasn’t the most confident person, he felt good about the way he looked for once.

“Now, can we go?” Hoseok pleaded, with big doe eyes for effect, and Jimin sighed.

“Fine, let’s get this over with,” he mumbled, grabbing a pair of black boots. Hoseok watched him pull them on, and Jimin muttered, “Calm down,” just when he was pulled out the door.

***

“Oh my God, I’m so nervous, I think I’m going to puke. I think I look green, do I look green?”

Jimin rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. Hoseok had been rambling for the past half hour, while they walked to the mansion where the party was supposed to be.

“You’ll be just fine, don’t worry. He might seem a bit cold, but I swear he’s all rainbows and unicorns inside,” Jimin said, doing his best to pry his best friend’s claws off his shirt (it was a gift, after all). He snickered when Hoseok kept muttering, ‘oh my God,’ as they arrived. The house was a mansion, almost as grand as Gatsby’s. What else would you expect from a rich brat?

As they made their way to the front door, Jimin started to look around. Yoongi had promised to be here; he owed Jimin a favor, which was why he had agreed to be Hoseok’s date for tonight. Otherwise he probably would’ve just stayed home, writing music in the almost-dark as usual (Yoongi’s dream was to be a famous rapper).

When Jimin finally spotted him, lounging near a wall with a stereotypical red solo cup in his hand, he grabbed Hoseok’s hand and started making his way towards the dark-haired man. Hopefully, he wouldn’t move before they got there.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, that’s Yoongi right there, oh my God, he looks so good”, Hoseok repeated the words like they were the only thing keeping him alive. It was a good thing the music was so loud, otherwise Yoongi would’ve heard. Hoseok was right, Jimin admitted to himself. Yoongi was dressed in all black, with a snapback pulled over his eyes, like in all of his rap videos.

Jimin pushed Hoseok towards Yoongi, who had noticed them and was now standing up straight. Jimin winked and gave Hoseok a thumbs up before he melted into the crowd.

He didn’t need to be a third wheel for the whole night. No, he’d much rather spend his time with some good ol’ shots of strong, liver-killing alcohol. Jimin wasn’t someone who drank often, but his choices were a) be sober and painfully alone or b) be alone and roaring drunk.

Not a hard choice, really.

He found his way to the alcohol and poured himself six shots with a smile on his face. Now that’s what we are talking about. He downed his first shot after he found himself a place to sit (he wasn’t planning on being in any condition to stand for much longer). From his spot, he could see almost everyone in the giant room. His eyes skipped over people until he saw someone he really didn’t want to.

The host of the party. None other than Jeon Jungkook himself.

Jimin scoffed. He was leaning back on the couch, girls and guys surrounding him with a girl in a silvery-blue dress on his lap. Jeon threw his head back in laughter.

He downed the second shot the moment he saw that stupid rich brat sucking faces with another student (wasn’t he Namjoon?). He was nowhere near drunk enough to see that. Another shot disappeared, burning its way down his throat.

A weird feeling bubbled in his chest as he watched the two suck each other’s souls out. He couldn’t quite give the emotion a name, but it felt a lot like… jealousy? No fucking way. Jimin almost laughed out loud at his thoughts, downing a fourth shot. They didn’t even know each other.

The rest of the night was a blur, but he was fairly certain he had ended up drinking way more than six shots. It resulted in some awkward interactions with other students, who were nearly as drunk as him, and of course, he had blacked out on the mansion’s floor before the party had even finished. He could’ve sworn he had seen Yoongi and Hoseok get along well. Of course, if your definition of getting along was kissing rather shyly in a secret corner.  

***

Jungkook saw the boy in the striped shirt the moment he’d walked in.

His silver hair that reflected the light perfectly, his plump lips that he bit when he tried not to laugh - every single thing about him seemed to draw him in. He’d come with someone who looked incredibly nervous, was that his boyfriend? His eyebrows furrowed, ever so slightly, and he shook his head. Why did he care? It was none of his business.

Still, his gaze followed him (wasn’t his name Park Jimin, or something?) intently as he navigated his way through the people in the party, until they reached a guy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere than here. The silver-haired male pushed his friend - something Jungkook had just realized -  towards the guy who had been leaning on the wall. He was short, like Jimin.

Jungkook watched Jimin slip into the crowd, the two boys left looking awkwardly at each other. He rolled his eyes. The two clearly liked each other; what was so hard about talking to each other and actually sharing a conversation instead of awkward, yearning glances?

Jungkook tried to find Jimin, but it was like he’d disappeared into thin air. Had he left? A weird feeling of desperation flushed through the Jungkook as he moved to sit on the couch, people crowding to sit around him. He spotted Jimin a few minutes after, sitting alone with a tray of shots in front of him. Jungkook watched him drink shot after shot, and grinned at the cute way he scrunched up his nose after every single one.

Woah, cute??

Time to move on.

Jungkook turned towards the group he was sitting with, mostly to Namjoon, who sat right next to him. Namjoon was good-looking, he couldn’t deny that, but why didn’t his dimples make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Why didn’t his smile make his stomach flip like Jimin’s smile did? Would Namjoon’s lips make Jungkook feel the way he felt when he saw Jimin?

That was what went through his mind as he leaned towards the platinum-haired male and captured their lips in a kiss that Jungkook found anything but passionate. He could taste alcohol in Namjoon’s mouth, and it most definitely didn’t make butterflies fly around his insides.

He felt like throwing up when he finally pulled away. That was their first and last kiss, Jungkook decided right then and there.

He bolted up from his seat and headed towards the bar - because alcohol was exactly what he needed to drown his feelings.

All Jungkook could remember after that was downing way too much whiskey, keeping his hands to himself way too little, and getting way, way too drunk.

***

Jimin let out a groan as he forced his eyes open, then let out another when he screwed them shut again. The sun was high up already, and the room  was annoyingly, incredibly bright.

There was an ogre in his head, kicking his brain and making everything tremble as revenge for last night. He almost wished he’d stayed at the dorms, cuddling into a fuzzy blanket while reading a good book. But the feeling of being carefree, being completely weightless, was worth the headache. And the nausea.

Jimin shifted to his side. There was something warm and soft, and he burrowed into that soft something, letting out a content sigh. That soft something smelled really nice, pine and cologne and something else, and he breathed in deeply.  After a few minutes of being comfortable, he heard a rumbly voice rasp entirely too close to his ear.

“Excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh,” the person groaned. The way his voice scraped around the edges made heat flood in his chest, like slipping into a warm blanket.

Jimin whined and nuzzled his face into the soft material, mumbling a small “fuck you,” as he did. A few seconds later, the soft something, or someone disappeared, and he hit his head on the cold, hard floor.

His headache split his head in half.

“Ow! What the fuck?” He yelped, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the tiniest hint of a pout on his lips. When he finally managed to open his eyes, he jumped, nearly six feet in the air.

Jeon Jungkook was sitting in front of him, all messy dark hair and eyes that sparkled in the sun. Jimin’s heart jumped into overdrive.

“What did you just say to me?” Jungkook questioned, leaning forward ever so slightly, which made Jimin lean backward ever so slightly.

“Um, ‘fuck you’?” Jimin suggested carefully, playing with his hands and looking at his lap.

“Oh my God,” Jungkook mumbled. Jimin’s eyes turned into saucers when he started to take his shirt off.

“W-What do you think you’re doing?” he stuttered, failing miserably at trying to sound annoyed. Moments later, a sigh slipped past his lips at the image of Jungkook shirtless, the sun hitting his skin like he was a god.

And no, it wasn’t because of Jungkook’s toned chest or abs, not even his arms or beautiful golden skin, but because of the tattoo on his shoulder. Exactly where Jimin’s was. Exactly where the soulmate tattoo was supposed to be.

Fuck you.

“Are you kidding me?” Jimin snickered, his nervousness vanishing. He traced a finger over the words, curling black on golden skin, and nearly smiled when he felt Jungkook shiver. “Does that mean you actually just said ‘excuse you, your morning boner is poking at my thigh’?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turned rosy, the prettiest shade of pink Jimin had ever seen, and he looked down on his lap when he nodded. For once, not the arrogant, spoilt brat. “Sorry about that,” he said, “it must’ve not been a very nice thing to have on your shoulder.”

But Jimin didn’t care about that. He didn’t care about any of that, anymore.

He had finally found his soulmate, his missing piece, and my God, was he beautiful.

“You stupid, rich brat,” Jimin smiled, carefully leaning towards Jungkook. His lips curved into a soft smile, headache long forgotten.

“You stupid shortie,” Jungkook muttered just before their lips met. It was like Sunday afternoons, warm and comforting, but there was a layer of passion, just underneath.

And Jimin felt a hole he never knew he had disappear.




(A/N) Ahhhhh the end! Such a fluffy oneshot i LOVE JIKOOK OK

ALSO special thanks to my babe @yoongsigh for the amazing writing prompt and to the lovely bb @quill-ink for editing this and making it 2356293859857 times better <333 ily guys <3 <3

Paper Organization

Okay so this for the anon from last week who requested this. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you… things have been crazy.

Important Paperwork

First it’s important to identify some of your important paperwork. These are what I keep set aside, but this is not a definitive list!

  • Personal identification like your social security card or immigration information
  • Tax forms I would keep copies of both your last year’s forms and your current forms (original goes to your tax man)
  • Driver related like copies of your insurance information, certifications or disciplinary information
  • Rental related like leases or rental agreements
  • High School/College like degrees and official transcripts
  • Voting info like voter ID cards or other registration info
  • Pay stubs keep these for up to six months
  • Contracts like any agreement you sign with your Internet or electric providers
  • Expensive items/warranties keep receipts for any item over $1,000 just in case

1. Make a folder. This, of course, doesn’t actually have to be a folder. It can be a binder, a box, I actually use an oversized Ziploc bag to store all my important paperwork. The key is that you choose an item that is easy to handle and secure (so that you papers don’t come tumbling out accidentally). 

2. Setting. Find an out of the way place to store this information. I would store it in a private part of your apartment or dorm room, somewhere not easily accessible. Obviously don’t go around telling everyone and their aunt where your documents are.

3. Commit to it. Anytime you receive a piece of important paper, immediately store it in your previously chosen place. Remind yourself that it will only taken a few extra seconds to properly secure your documents, and doing this sets an important precedent. 

4. Proof of residency. Proof of residence is something that any institution from your university to your health insurance provider may ask for. Proof of residence can be in the form of a rental agreement, utility bills, or pay stubs with your address on them. Always scan these documents and send copies to whatever service is requesting them, never send the originals. 

5. Pay stubs. I recommend keeping a backlog of your voided paychecks. Voided, in the sense that you’ve already deposited them into your bank account or had them direct deposited. When applying for insurance or a new apartment, you may be asked to provide several of these paychecks. Since these can stack up and become bulky, I wrap them with a large rubber band and keep them beside my important paper file.

6. Clip together. I like to paperclip together similar documents from different years. For example, I keep my different lease agreements clipped together.

7. Organize. Every six months, devote a half hour or so to organizing your file. Clean out any paperwork that is unnecessary or duplicated. Keep your documents up to date and as easy to navigate as possible. Always remember to black out any personal information on documents before throwing them out. I’ll clean my cats’ litter box, and dispose of my old important documents in a garbage bag with the poop as an added security measure. If you’re going to steal my information I’d like you to have to sort through my cat’s shit first.

I hope this helps!

If you guys thought that Sirius didn't use the map to become the biggest gossip queen you're wrong.
  • Sirius: WAIT, GUYS, SOMETHING IS HAPPENING!
  • Remus: What is it, what's wrong?
  • Sirius: Emmeline and Fabian have been in the fourth corridor broom closet for at least ten minutes now.
  • Remus: Sirius that isn't an emergency.
  • Sirus: It will be when Gideon finds out.
  • ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  • Sirius: Oh ho ho, what's happening here?
  • James: What now, Padfoot?
  • Sirius: Oh nothing. It just looks like Evans and McKinnon are taking a long walk around the lake together. What do you think they're talking about?
  • James: Sirius-
  • Sirius: Boys, perhaps? Come on.
  • James: Where are you going??
  • Sirius: To LISTEN, obviously! The map can only do so much, Prongs.
  • ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  • Remus: Pads, can I see your potions essay? I want to make sure I'm doing this right.
  • Sirius: Oh, I'm not going to write that. Longbottom is going to write it for me.
  • Remus: What - when did he say that?
  • Sirius: He doesn't know yet.
  • Remus: He's not going to write your essay for you, Sirius.
  • Sirius: He will if he doesn't want anyone to find out that he skipped on Quidditch practice to spend half an hour in the empty dorm with Alice.
  • Remus: ...We didn't make the map for blackmail!
  • Sirius: I know, who thought it would be as useful as it actually is??
That what friends are for - Peter Hale x Reader

Originally posted by nudev


Pairing: Peter x Reader

Prompt: Derek comes to you when he has concerns about Cora, Peter decides to tag along for his own amusement. Shopping, Seduction and Sexiness ensues!

Warnings: Explicit smut. BECAUSE I CAN! Muah! :* Love you guys!
Enjoy!

****

You turned over in your bed, trying to get comfortable but having no luck. After being laid there for over an hour you gave up. You sat up with a huff opening your laptop you decided to scroll through Tumblr. You got bored after half an hour and decided to look at some NSFW posts. You tilted your head as you saw the first post, you stare at the girl who had stockings on, no panties and a lacy bra. Her hands were tied with black silk and he eyes were covered with the same material. The man was licking from her pussy to her ass. Gotta love Tumblr you thought, you bit your lip and continued scrolling, after about half an hour you decided to watch a film.

Keep reading

Has anyone pictured the spirit of the past Commanders in Lexa’s head like the characters from Inside Out?  Because I have.

“Oh oh, can we kick him off the tower this time?  I vote kicking him off the tower.  Fuck that guy.”

“We’ve taken a vote.  The black silky one with the straps.  And a bath.  And glitter, definitely glitter.  Don’t forget to work the leg slit.”

“You guys you guys!  She’s here, she’s watching us fight Roan!  Be cool, be cool Lexa.”  I’m glad you came.  “NAILED IT.” (everyone high fives)

“Goddamn it Titus, it took us half an hour to light all those candles and you just blow them all out?!”

“She’s totally into you.  WHAT THE FUCK DON’T KEEP STARING AT HER - shit she saw you.  She saw you staring!  Start yelling at Titus or something!”

2

I really wanted to try doing a more realistic portrait again so I used my beloved DnD character, Marf the Monk. 

TONS of new experimenting in one drawing! Especially coloring, brush use, and lighting. I’m really hype because I finally got the “colorizing a black and white painting” to work out and while the grayscale may have taken ~10 hours to shade, it only took about one hour to color! I’m definitely going to practice this method some more because I’d love to be able to offer examples of this style for commissions.

Sweet Tears Pt.6

Jungkook x Reader { Cat Hybrid/Dystopian Au! }(a)(f)(eventual smut)

Warnings: None???

Who could have known that taking home a hybrid would change ones whole life? How could y/n have guessed he would affect her so much? All she wants to do is help, but she doesn’t even know if he’ll let her.

Wordcount: 6k+

A/n: Ah~ I’m so glad I could finally get this out. So, grab your popcorn, and something to drink cause I hope you’re ready <3

|| Masterlist || Previous ||


Previously: Jimin and you both got up as well. As they put on their shoes and grabbed their items, you picked up the now empty glasses before walking to where they were. “Who is Suga anyway.”

Slinging her purse over her arm, Hyemi opened the door. “That’s a secret.” She showed you a smile, pulling you into a hug before starting to walk out. “If you need anything, we’re only across the hall. Don’t be afraid to stop by.” You let out a laugh, waving her off before Jimin stopped in the doorway.

“Y/n?” You hummed, watching as he stepped inside once more. “I don’t know much about what Suga does, but I heard there’s an important part of his process”

“What is it?”

He smiled at you, his eyes turning to into those lovely half moon crescents. “You have to create a bond stronger than the initial connection.” You cocked your head in confusion, watching as he gave you a hug and left.


It had been an hour since Hyemi and Jimin had left, the pitch black night sky and blinding city lights your only company. You had cleaned up everything. After putting the bottle of wine away and washing your two glasses, you listened. The house was now silent, an atmosphere that you were used to yet wished had stayed away.

Two days and three nights- one of which you counted as today yet the amount of action you had faced made it feel like years. You had found a hybrid, taken him in and already found yourself attached. The thought that there was over a sixty percent chance that Jungkook would meet a doomed end scared you. If you couldn’t reach Suga and get his help, what then? Bring him back to his owner to live a miserable life- or let him die? With a sigh, you decided to push everything to the back of your mind.

Keep reading

Essays in Existentialism: Movies

Jake was a romantic at heart and a huge fan of old b+w movies, and he and Clarke went to the old local movie theatre every Sunday to watch them. So when Jake dies, Clarke carries on the Sunday tradition alone…til, one Sunday, she meets Lexa.

The funeral was at 1pm.

At six-thirty, with no will left for the rest of the people that crowded in her house, the only daughter left the wake without a single word. Wondered straight out off of the porch with no real thought at all, not even missed by anyone in particular. 

Keep reading

[Miraculous Ladybug]: A Full Commitment’s What I’m Thinking Of

idk man, i haven’t written the lovesquare in a while, and for some reason i wanted come crack-ish MiracuClass antics, so sue me

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

Title: A Full Commitment’s What I’m Thinking Of

Summary: Sometimes, when you’re friends are so obviously in love and they’re taking forever to get with the program, it’s time to take matters into your own hands. 

In which Alya takes matchmaking to a whole new level, Nino tries to be the voice of reason, the entire class is incapable of keeping a secret, and Marinette and Adrien just try to have a decent picnic


A Full Commitment’s What I’m Thinking Of


“A class picnic?”

Alya nodded as she scribbled a time and a location on the back of Marinette’s hand. “Yup. I figured it’d be fun. School year’s ending, the weather is beautiful, and exams are just about wrapped up. Thought it’d be a cool casual thing.”

“You didn’t tell me you were planning this,” Marinette said. “I could’ve helped you!”

“Oh, don’t even worried about it, girlie,” Alya assured. “You’ve been so busy with class rep stuff lately I just went and asked Nino for help. Worked out just fine, too. He’s been helping me handle music and food.”

Marinette smiled. “This is so sweet! I can’t believe you did all this for everyone. Is everyone else coming?”

“Oh yeah,” Alya insisted. “Everyone in class. Even Adrien.”

Alya expected some blushing and stammering, but Marinette merely blinked at her. “Adrien’s going to be there?”

“Of course! He was super excited when he found out you were coming.”

Marinette lifted both of her brows in surprise. “He was?”

Alya patted Marinette on the shoulder. “I would never lie to you. So yeah, you should definitely come. After school today, don’t forget.”

“Ok cool!” Marinette nodded. “Do you wanna walk over together with Nino and — ”

NO!” Alya shouted, hands darting out to grab Marinette’s shoulders. Marinette jumped in shock and leaned away from Alya’s frantic looking expression. Alya bit her lip and sighed out through her nose. “I-I mean….nah, i-it’s fine. I have to help Nino with….something after school anyway. Uh….I’ll meet you there a little afterwards.”

“Um…okay,” Marinette said. “You sure you and Nino don’t need any — ”

“Nope! No help!” Alya insisted, spinning Marinette around and marching her over to the locker room. “You just get your books together and meet us at the park. It’ll be a blast.”

Keep reading

alluroa  asked:

i would literally give up my firstborn child for another genderswap au bcos jane potter is so hot im deadt

Jane, flirting, tells him his hair looks like a carrot fucked a fire hydrant.

“Charming.” Liam says.

“This is the part where you say something back and we verbally spar.” She responds, leaning with one muddy soccer boot up against the side of the library. McGonagall would have a fit. He puts his hands in his pockets and pretends to look at the street.

“Not today it isn’t.”

“C’mon,” she grins, ducking her head so her hair falls forward. “You’re making me feel bad. You’ve got to say something back otherwise it’s like bullying.”

“What do you mean ‘like’ bullying.”

“Please. If it was real bullying I would have your lunch money.”

“I don’t bring lunch money.”

“Good thing I’m not bullying you then.” She says, cheerfully, and he laughs. It appears halfway through this conversation he got bored with pretending to look at the road and has started actively staring at her again. He turns back.

“Your hair looks like you shoved a fork into a toaster.” He says, and she laughs now.

“’Knew you’d give in. Now we’re both bullying each other.”

He looks back at her. “I thought you said it wasn’t bullying.”

She smirks, soccer uniform covered in mud from making unnecessary slides across the pitch every time she makes a goal, which is often enough that he can see grass burn bleeding on her knees. He’s going to ask if she needs a bandage, and then she quirks her eyebrow at him, and he cannot for the life of him remember his name.

“Evans, you are aware I can see you ogling my legs.” Liam’s head snaps back to the street.

“I wasn’t ogling.”

“You bloody were.”

“I don’t ogle.”

“Fine. Staring. Gazing. Gawking, if you will.”

“I won’t.”

“Liam Evans, staring at my legs in front of everybody”

“There is no one else here.“

“You were ogling.” She pushes off the wall, arms folded and still smirking, advancing on him. “Perfectly understandable really, they are, dare I say it, the best legs this side of London.”

He scoffs, looking at the sky and not at her. “You’re so full of it.”

“I can’t help having great legs any more than you can help having hair that looks like a red traffic light threw up on Amy Adams.”

“Whose Amy Adams?” he feigns ignorance.

“I know you know who fucking Amy Adams is.”

He swings back on his heels. “Hmm, can’t say I do, but you had better watch your potty mouth or I’m going to report you to McGonagall.” He’s looking at her again. God goddammit.

“Minnie loves me.” She’s almost right next to him now, a good head shorter, bag over her shoulder, knees still bleeding. Her glasses are cracked in the left corner.

“She won’t once I tell her how you’ve been bullying me.” He says, and she smiles. The wind blows slightly, and God, she’s fucking pretty. His fingers itch to touch her jawline, the base of her throat, her cheekbone. There is always too much space between them.

“You know the library closes at six.” She breathes, looking at him, “and my practice ends at six-thirty.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” He lies, ridiculously.

“I mean,” her breath hitches, “You wait the extra half hour to see me.”

He wants to do something dumb, like kiss her or kiss her again, but she’s far too clever and pretty and he would have no idea where to put his hands.  The world is impossibly still. His heart is thudding loud enough she must be able to hear it.

A car screeches into the street and reels up next to them, almost clipping the curb. “Potter!” Sarah Black sticks her head out the window and yells to be heard over the radio, “if you get mud on my seats again I’ll punch you in the tit!” Spotting Liam, she nods and takes a drag on her cigarette, “Evans. You’re here again.”

“Well spotted.” He croaks, trying to act normal and doing a bad job. Potter’s arm brushes against his on the way to the car and he shudders.

“Wanna lift?” Sarah asks, and he shakes his head. Jane stares at him through the passenger window, and he stares back. The only reason he comes to the library is to kill time before her practice ends. He would wait in the rain if he had to.

“Amy Adams was in Enchanted.” He blurts out, and Potter grins. He’s so far gone it’s embarrassing. He would do anything to make her look like that.  

Black gives him a weird look. “Don’t take too many drugs on school grounds, Evans, Minnie doesn’t like you nearly as much as she likes me.” She peels away, almost taking out a letterbox in the process, and he starts walking home, thinking about how she has practice tomorrow, and the grass burns on her knees, and the way her breath hitches when she stands to close to him.

The streetlamps go on, and in the harsh light she roars into his head, laughing, covered in mud, a dream girl unbelievably rooted in reality.

7-Minutes in Hell

Requested: Okay hi I fucking love ur writing and I just saw a post about how peter would have h claustrophobia after the rubble scene and I was wondering if you would ever consider writing a fic based on that? ❤️❤️

Note: i’m so glad you like my writing :’) i loved this request! hope you like it! (p.s. i haven’t actually written an actual imagine in a long time so sorry if this sucks jikvdhbjkiw) also this IS after that scene™ but Liz is still here bc she deserved better and i love her alright? alright


“Are you going to the party tonight?” I shrugged, writing down the equation on the board. “How do you not know?” I shrugged again, continuing with my notes.

“What do you mean? It’s a yes or no question.” I sighed, turning to my left and looking at Michelle.

“I don’t think I am, Friday’s are kind of my thing, you know?”

“Well, I’m going,” I narrowed my eyes at her. “What?”

“You hate parties – you hate most people! What do you mean you’re going?” She shrugged, about to answer, but someone’s voice sounded over hers.

“Michelle, (Y/N),” we looked up to see Ms. Warren looking at us from her spot at the front of the classroom, “is there something you have to share with the class? A new discovery?” I looked around at everyone, everyone’s eyes on us. I shrunk in my seat while Michelle maintained her usual slouched posture. “No?” We shook our head. “Good, then maybe you could let me finish what I have to share with the class?” We both nodded. “Good, as I was saying!” I looked up in time to see Peter Parker looking at me, smiling softly as he turned his gaze back to his laptop.

I was sitting quietly, listening to Ms. Warren, when I felt Michelle nudge my arm. I looked at her quickly, seeing her gesture down to the desk. I looked down to see a note. I opened it and placed it on top of my notebook, picking up my pen again to make it look like I was writing notes.

parker will be there.

I looked up at Peter, seeing him give his undivided attention to Ms. Warren. I smiled softly, quickly making it go away when I heard Michelle snicker. I picked up my pen and wrote back ‘i’m thinking about it a little harder’ as a response, shoving it back to Michelle. Rolling my eyes when she nudged me playfully.

Keep reading

cat friend!!!

so i play as a fighter half orc, who is known for ripping off peoples dongs when she beats them in arm wrestling matches. she makes them into bombs which she keeps in her bag of holding

our group is made of a half elf sorcerer (i think) a half elf cleric, a tiefling rogue/druid, a moon elf wizard (maybe?) and my half orc. the half elf sorcerer has been begging the dm to let him get a cat.

we’re escorting a wagon to the town of phandolin when we spot a couple of dead horses. we hang around for a little bit trying to figure out what happened, when a member of our party hears rustling in the bushes near our tiefling. he doesnt tell us this.

DM: so all of you hear the bushes towards the back of the wagon rustle, and you all can tell that somethings there

me (ooc): I TAKE A DONG BOMB OUT OF MY POUCH AND THROW IT AT THE BUSH

teifling rogue (ooc): no wait dont do that, throw it next to the bush just to scare it

me (ooc): oh yeah okay i’ll do that then

DM: your bomb lands near the bush and right before it explodes you hear a cat wail. after the explosion you see a white paw on the ground, with a black stripe going up it. the rest of the cat has been demolished.

literally everyone in the party is complaining cause i threw a dong bomb at the cat they wanted to befriend, and our cleric even tried to bring it back from the dead, but we had to continue on our adventure without the cat.

flash forward like an hour later when we’re at the mouth of a goblin cave, right after my half orc and our sorcerer had assassinated some goblin guards.

DM: so uh you look around and you hear the bushes rustle again. out steps a cat, all white with a black stripe on its leg

i yell cause my orc has animal handling, and i end up with a 23 to befriend the cat. our sorcerer is begging me to give him the cat, and then our cleric asks for the cat, and so they start having a bidding war to see who will get it

i end up keeping the cat

anonymous asked:

Imagine how Black Hat would react to losing his powers. "FLUG! I CANT SHAPESHIFT!!!" "FLUG! I CANT TELEPORT AND I'M STUCK IN A TREE!" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT READY?! FIX THE INVENTION! I WANT MY POWERS BACK!" Not only that, he reverts back to how he looked in the 2012 Villainous shorts. Imagine everyone trying to comfort him (Flug, Dem, 505, and the mom squad). I imagine his fri- employees getting super protective when they see a hero in the area.

asdgfhgjhkl god the 2012 shorts give me life ngl–

  • It’s like eldritch puberty all over again. he suddenly cant control anything anymore and it’s awful and god these clothes are tacky what the FUCK was he thinking
  • BH keeps taking off his question-marked hat but there’s an identical hat underneath it and he’s flipping out
  • He’s so used to teleporting places he becomes fucking lazy with walking. 5.0.5 just carries him from place to place; it’s kinda nice ngl. Not like he’d ever say that haha–
  • “Flug I’m going to turn you inside out if you don’t fix this!” “W-well, sir, on the plus side, at least we know that the device works?” “And the device to FIX it better work as well, Flug.” “Y-yes sir!!”
  • Dr. Flug acts scared of him just so BH feels better, even though he knows he can’t carry out any of his threats. On the other hand, Dementia makes it worse. She keeps annoying BH because she knows he can’t retaliate and it’s hilarious.
  • BH was screaming at her for the first half hour but eventually tired himself out and resigned to his fate. Meh, at least 505′s comfy.
  • He refuses to go outside like this. Not because of any heroes, but because he looks and feels fucking awful at the moment. Flug gives the mom squad some excuse as to why he’s not at yoga; they bake BH a “get-well-soon quiche.” BH refuses to eat it until he’s back to normal and can fucking absorb it into his body.
  • “eating?? with a mouth?? fucking disgusting, what do i look like, a heathen?” “Black Hat you literally dissolved into a pile of flesh and teeth” “yeah, it’s called manners.”
Shatt Angst Train™

        I’m just kinda imagining Shiro being Ultra Guilty about not being able to find Matt after his escape, and feeling really bad about injuring him and then never seeing him again. Shiro probably gets really worried that Matt will hate him and he can’t really remember much so hurting Matt is really most of what he remembers of Matt during their time in the Galra prison. Meanwhile, Matt probably knows that Shiro feels bad, probably thinks about how Shiro will remember hurting him, how Shiro will feel guilty and Matt wants to tell him that he’s ok, that he’s not mad, but he can’t and it’s killing him. 


  •         Shiro tries to cling as much as he can to the bits of Matt he can remember, and he wants to remember it all because he knows he might never see Matt again. Sometimes if he’s walking to his room late at night he’ll hear quiet sobs coming from Pidge’s room. Shiro knows that it’s all his fault. If he’d only been better, or smarter, he could have done something. He should have tried harder and he shouldn’t have been so impulsive. And now the image of Matt’s terrified face after he attacked him is burned into his memory.


  •     Sometimes Matt wonders whether Shiro is dead and if he does get free, if he’ll ever see Shiro again. And then, suddenly, all Matt can see is Shiro’s pained face as he whispers “Take care of your father,” as he gets dragged away to fight.  Oh god, how Matt hopes Shiro got away somehow, but he knows in his heart that Shiro might have died even moments after he was taken away from the arena.


  •    Sometimes, when he can catch a glimpse of the stars from inside the prison, Matt will look out and wonder if Shiro really did make it out. He’ll wonder if Shiro is out there somewhere, or if he’s back on earth, and then, at the thought of Shiro back on earth, he realizes Shiro doesn’t know if he’s alive either. All he can imagine is Shiro having to explain to his mother and Katie, having to explain “I don’t know what happened to Matt,” and that’s when Matt vows that he’s going to escape some day. Because he has to make it back to his family, has to know what happened to Shiro.


  •    Not knowing, Matt thinks, not knowing is almost worse than a solid answer. At least if Shiro was dead he could begin to grieve, but as long as things are uncertain his heart won’t let him release the glimmer of hope. It won’t let him get rid of the fantasies of Shiro being safe and happy back on earth.


  •      Shiro knows he has to remain calm, he has to be the team’s leader and needs to stay strong. Yet every time Pidge announces she’s got some sort of lead, some kind of evidence that might lead them to Matt, he can’t help but feel a tiny glimmer of hope, and he tries to push it away because he knows Matt is probably dead.


  •     Shiro, too, decides that uncertainty is worse than knowing for sure that Matt is dead. Every Galra ship that they destroy, every ship that they watch explode, Shiro wonders if Matt is on there, and he wonders if Matt’s blood is on his hands again. He doesn’t know it, but Pidge thinks the same thing every time as well.


  •     In his darkest moments, when he feels like giving up, Matt remembers Shiro’s desperate face. He remembers Shiro’s voice, telling him to take care of his father. And Matt remembers back on earth, Shiro quietly reminding him to take care of himself, and how he’d reply the same way every time. “But who’s going to take care of you?” And Matt remembers that, and he remembers when he vowed that he’d make it out, for Shiro.


  •      If Shiro’s mantra during his time with the Galra was “Patience yields focus,” then Matt’s is that he has to make it out for Shiro. Even if Shiro is dead, Matt knows the least he can do is escape instead. The least he can do is let Shiro’s family know too, because Matt knows for every time he thinks of his father, of Katie, of his mother, that Shiro must be thinking of his family too.


  •        At some point, Pidge picks up on Shiro’s carefully concealed emotions every time she shares any information about finding Matt, and she makes sure she lets him be the first to know anything she finds. After that, they cling to each other trying desperately to find the reassurance that only the safe discovery of Matt can bring them.


  •         Shiro still thinks Pidge might resent him a little for when he tore her away from the Galra ship on Arus, when the robeast was coming. He understands her reasoning, that she would be willing to risk serious injury to find any clue about Matt. He would too, but he knows that they could have died, and that dead men cannot find Matt. She never picked up on the desperation in his voice, the conflict in his expression. He wonders if he had stayed another moment, if they would have found Matt. Shiro tells himself that living in the past is foolish, even as he replays Matt’s fearful expression in his head for the millionth time.


  •       Matt finds that missing Shiro is like losing a part of yourself, like a dull ache that fades but never really goes away, and that it is like a million instant replays of Shiro’s desperate expression. Shiro finds that missing Matt is like the anxiety of misplacing something important, like a persistent thought in the back of his mind, there at all times, and that it is like a million instant replays of the fear and shock in Matt’s eyes.


  •        Every time Shiro glimpses Pidge out of the corner of his eye, it’s like a stab to his heart. When he was first being rescued back on Earth, when he first caught sight of Pidge he thought that she was Matt. They look so similar, especially now that she’s cut her hair short, and he tries to hide his pain because he is the leader and he needs to be strong for his team. He can’t let them know how broken he is inside, how every time he sees Pidge, he thinks he breaks a little bit more.


  •      During the battle with Zarkon, when they’re losing, and everything is going wrong, Shiro thinks of Matt. He thinks of his last glimpses of Matt, he thinks of what Matt was like back on Earth, and he decides that he can’t die now. He has to live, because he just knows that Matt is out there somewhere. He knows Pidge got new data from Slav’s prison, which gives him hope. And Shiro knows he can’t let himself die knowing that the last Matt saw of him was when he was being attacked.


  •        Matt doesn’t know why, but one day, he’s managed to catch a glimpse of the stars through a window, and something just feels terribly wrong. He thinks of Shiro, at the exact same moment the team is running towards the Black Lion, only to find it empty, to find Shiro missing. Then, Matt is dragged away from the window and everything is the same as always, and still he repeats to himself that he has to make it out for Shiro.
Stars

Lance woke up looking at the stars.
Which was strange because he hadn’t been looking at the stars the last time his eyes were open. He couldn’t really feel his body, so couldn’t really move his body, which prompted panic. His breath quicken as his eyes looked around frantically, but only seeing stars. He shut his eyes tight as he tried to remember.
They were on some planet…forming an alliance. But they were leaving…
He had a faint memory come back to him.
The Blue Lion…The Red Lion…Galra…Keith…large canons…

They had gotten blasted down, hadn’t they?

That’s when the pain flooded back into his body. He felt sharp pains in his rib cage on his left side, and his right ankle seemed to be screaming at him to never move again. His eyes suddenly became tired, the back of his head throbbing. He heard a faint ringing in his ears, and the stars started moving.
Then the stars were gone.
His back felt stiff and unused, but he decided it was best not to move.

Did he fall out of Blue? Did Blue let him go? How did he get here?

He moved his head slightly, but it hurt like hell. He saw a figure, but his vision was getting increasingly darker, so he couldn’t make out who. Behind said figure might have been trees, but for now it was a mixture of green and brown. They sky was clear, so no stars. He saw the Red Lion, and then his lion lying on the ground. He must have made some noise, because the figure was suddenly aware of him.
“You’re awake! God, you scared me there!” It was Keith’s voice. Keith moved quickly towards. “You’ve been out for two hours.”
“How…?” Was all Lance could muster himself to stay.
“Blue got blasted first, and then crashed into me. We got stranded on the other side of the planet,” Keith was still blurry to Lance, but he could tell he was scowling. “…and both Lions are down. I had to dragged you out.”
“Drag me?”
“When nothing happened, I got worried. Besides, you’re no better in there than you are out here. I think you got tossed around a bit when Blue got hit because the back of your head was bleeding when I pulled you out. How do you feel?”
“Everything is blurry,” He winced a bit when he tried to move his head again. “And everything is spinning.”
“Probably a concussion,” Keith guessed. “But the ankle doesn’t make since.”
“My ribs hurt too…on the left.”
“Really? What do you remember, Lance?” Keith said, concerned. Lance pondered on the question, things came back now and then.
“Uh…a fight maybe? Before we left? I don’t remember how though.”
“The Galra attacked while we were still on the ground…maybe that’s when this-” He gestured toward Lance. “happened.”
“Probably…” Lance groaned a bit at the nausea that washed over him.
“Lance?” Keith asked, moving a bit closer. Lance gave no response. “We really need to get out of here.” Keith huffed.
“The team?” Lance squeaked.
“The coms are down. But I’m sure they’ll be here soon…hopefully.”
Lance felt his ankle was probably bent in the most awkward and painful way possible, but he was in too much pain to move to see it. His head spun again, prompting him to whimper, which caught Keith’s attention. “Are you alright?”
“You’re cute when you’re worried. Besides the entire world spinning? I’m good.

Plot twist; he was not good.

There was a sharp stabbing sensation in his ribs, which grew increasingly worse. On top of that, black spots crowed his vision, and he could feel his eyes rolling back.
"Hey, Lance! You gotta stay awake!” Keith shook his shoulders gently, carefully not to make him dizzy. Keith cupped his face in an attempt to keep him aware of him. “C'mon….”
Then his vision went black.

When he came to, he was still on the ground, but he was sitting up against a tree and his foot was tied up with a piece of cloth. Keith sat next to him, fiddling with a rock and a stick.
“Keith?” Lance asked weakly. Keith set his things down before smiling towards Lance.
“I’m here Lance. It’s good see you awake.” Keith sighed with relief.
“The world has stopped spinning.” Lance said, although the ringing hadn’t gone away.
“I got a call from Hunk. They’ll be here in like, two minutes. You look a little less pale.” Keith chucked.
“Did you do that?” Lance asked, pointing towards his splint.
“Well, duh. I found some cloth on the ground, moved you over here, and waited for you to wake up.”
“I hate blacking out.”
“It was only a half hour this time.” Keith turned back to his rock before Lance could see him blushing.
“Hey Keith?” Lance asked.
“Yeah?”
“Next time we get stranded together, I call not being the injured one.” Lance looked up to see the Yellow Lion making it way down towards them. Keith laughed, maybe from what Lance said or from relief.
“Alright, you got it.”

Take Five: Pacing and Self-Care During NaNoWrimo

With NaNoWriMo just around the corner, it’s easy to get caught up frantically planning, brainstorming, and prepping. Throw that on top of being a student, working full or part time, and well, even the sound of it is exhausting. I didn’t even mention eating, sleeping, hydrating and taking care of yourself in general. If you’re looking for tips on pacing and staying healthy in November, this post is for you.

Pacing and Scheduling Your Writing Time:

You have a whole 30 days to write 50,000 words.  

Some people like to write every single day from November 1st-November 30th. That’s a minimum of 1,667 words per day.

Others devote several hours to bashing out a week’s worth of words. That’s a minimum of roughly 11,669 words in 7 days.

But remember! Your story, your rules, your pace. How much you’ll write in a day will depend on you, your schedule, and how much time you can devote to writing.

Now it’s time to figure out what kind of writer you are.

Sprinter, marathoner, or fast walker, in the end what matters is crossing that finish line on November 30th. Realizing your writing pace saves a lot of struggling to fit into a breakneck schedule that might not even be compatible with your pacing.  Do you prefer writing for 15-20 minutes at a time? Or perhaps you feel more suited to writing for longer stretches. Once you figure out your pace, you can move on to figuring out exactly when in the day you can allot time for writing.

So now, take a look at your schedule. Where can you fit that desired writing time? Along with your pacing here are a few more things to consider:

  • Can you write every day? If not, that’s okay!
  • When in the day, do you prefer to write?
  • Will you have get up earlier or stay up later?
  • Where will you be at a projected writing time? In between classes? In a bus/train?
  • Will you be in an environment that’s conducive to writing?

If you have a schedule in mind already, great! Set alarms, pen it into your schedule, whatever you need to do to remind yourself to get that word count in.

Now let’s talk taking breaks.

We all know that feeling. “Just a little longer”, you might say. “I’m so close to finishing this scene!” It works for only a little bit, but honestly? Sometimes the best thing to do is step away and give yourself a breather. Again, this depends on your writing pace and schedule.

Taking a short break. (Generally 5-10 minutes at a time.)

  • Listen to a song
  • Watch a video
  • Get up to refill your water or grab a snack
  • Stretch
  • Fix that posture/sitting position
  • Devote a couple of minutes to deep breathing and/or meditation.

Taking a long break. (Roughly 15-30+ minutes).

  • Watch an episode of your TV show
  • Take a walk or step outside for a bit
  • Walk a pet
  • Text/message/talk to a friend.
  • Take a nap. (Did you know you can reach REM sleep with 1.5-2 hrs of napping?)

Awesome, so you’ve figured out your schedule! Not so fast! Now that you’ve added more things to your schedule, I have a few suggestions on staying healthy with your new load.

Self-Care during NaNoWriMo:

Hydrating. Just because it isn’t summer (or even if it is, depending on where you are), water is still very important. Every single organ system in our bodies needs water, especially our brains, and we need to replenish it every day! Ideally, you want to drink 8 cups of water per day, more if you’re working out.  What about juice? Juice can be great, but I strongly advise not substituting juice for water. Juice can contain a lot of sugar that can lead to sugar crashes. This goes doubly for soda. Also, Gatorade all those other energy drinks? I’d only suggest using those if you work out and need to replace the lost water and electrolytes.

Speaking of soda, step away from that night time caffeine. Put down the energy drinks.

If you like citrus, grab an orange or a clementine for a quick energy boost before a writing session. Your body breaks down that glucose quickly and it gets to the brain within 30 minutes. Plus, you get that daily dose of Vitamin C in and help boost your immune system’s defenses.

If you like tea as a writing drink, I suggest going for something that’s not so heavy with the caffeine. Substitute the black tea for green tea, herbal tea, or decaf.

Napping. Let’s face it, especially if you’re in school, a solid 6 hours of sleep is hard to come by. But did you know, that you can get REM sleep with long naps? That’s about an hour and a half or two hours, to reach the REM cycle, if you can fit that into your day. But even shorter, 20-30 minute naps will help.

Washing your hands. I cannot stress this enough. Don’t just use hand sanitizer (which FYI can really dry out your hands if you use it frequently). Wash your hands with soap and warm water and really lather up. The soap only helps remove any dirt and oil off of your hands. The friction is what helps remove any transient germs. Especially those of you who live on campus at a university, or live with siblings or kids. Humans can be gross! A lot of people don’t wash their hands after sneezing, coughing, or using the bathroom. Handwashing is the best thing you can do to prevent yourself and someone else from getting sick, especially with flu and cold season starting up.

With your writing schedule in hand and a handy dandy waterbottle at your side, you are on your way to having a successful (and healthy) NaNoWriMo!

E.G. Letine is a nursing student by day, fantasy writer by night, and an avid gamer. She has two rescue dogs and an aquatic moss ball. You can find her at eggletine.tumblr.com.