i can't tell if this is crap or i just feel like crap


cs future family — ღ — CaptainCharming II CaptainCobra — “I broke down crying in your Grandfather’s arms the night my daughter was born…” — or, you know, the night the wee babies are born and how these guys handled the whole thing.  (slightly)angsty fluff? :)

This is obviously never in a million years happening in canon, but I’m still craving already all the Daddy!Killian/Grandpa!Killian fluff, so here’s THIS anyway! I very selfishly needed it! :D Flashbacks are in Italics. (( AO3 ))

    Killian wishes he knew the exact way or words to help the lad. He knows in his heart that everything is going to turn out fine regardless, but he still wishes Henry knew this as well.

And he knows, oh Killian knows rationally Henry probably knows everything’s going to be okay already, but Killian also knows, from his own experience, that right this second, rationality isn’t exactly first on Henry’s mind.

So he waits it out. Killian doesn’t exactly want to approach Henry with his unsolicited opinion, but he still knows the two of them are bound to exchange some words at some point this day anyway.

Killian knows it’s not the right time yet though. The lad is seemingly trying to appear so tough and in control of the whole situation and Killian respects that.

Killian has to commend him for it even; he’s doing a much more believable job than Killian ever did once upon a time when he was in Henry’s shoes.

Needlessly to say, Killian Jones can’t be prouder of his lad right now.

— ღ   —

He’s losing it.

He’s shaking and he feels as though someone has a very tight grip on his heart right now. He feels sweaty and tingly —as though he’s being suffocated from the inside out. He tries to force himself to breathe but it comes out shallow and rapid. He shudders; eyes squeezing against the tears he doesn’t wish to cry.

His chest almost hurts and he wants— he doesn’t know what he wants —he just needs to do something, but he’s useless. All evening he’s done nothing but watch and it’s —it’s too bloody much for him to handle.

Killian turns facing a wall, his palm flat on the cool surface steadying him. He doesn’t trust his legs to hold him up so he leans heavily onto the wall, his forehead touching its surface. He breathes, harshly and unsteady, he wants to scream really —cry perhaps too, out of frustration and—

“Breathe,” a voice calls, and Killian hears it muffled by the sound of his very own heart pounding in his ears. “Breathe,”

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cherryfighter14  asked:

Hello :) I have a question. A few times I've seen you write on your blog how tend to not like characters with the same personality type as you. I'm an INFP, and there are some INFP characters I don't like, but most INFP characters I tend to really like. My most favorite characters are INFPS (Ofelia from Pans Labyrinth and Anne Shirley). I guess my question is why do some people adore characters with the same personality type but others can't stand them? Because I like characters I relate to.

(Gif: Claire and Jenny from Outlander. ENFP + ISTJ.)

It’s good that you like similar characters to yourself. It probably means you like yourself, too. ;)

This may sound weird but… I don’t really relate to characters. I find things I admire in them, but I don’t necessarily find myself able to ‘relate’ even if we have similar circumstances or upbringing. There always seems to be a gap between us. (Enneagram 4 tendencies? “Ain’t nobody like me in the entire world!”) I think ‘relating’ to a character may be more common in Fi-doms, since my INFP friend also does it – she finds something she has in common with them, which grants her compassion and insight, and becomes their champion. (Though, I have known Fe’s to do it too. Maybe I’m just weird.)

I suspect what people dislike in characters who share their type is probably what bothers them about themselves. They say (who are they? who made them boss?) that we dislike in others what we most fear or hate in ourselves. I hate that a lot of ENFPs are indecisive and changeable, because so am I. I rail against their naive tendency to be too trusting. Yeah well, that’s my flaw too. I sometimes tire of their strong moralistic views. Guess who has those? ;) I tell them to get some self confidence, since I need it too. I look at their knee-jerk, half-assed reactions and wonder, “Do I do that too?”

Because of my Fi-tendency to make everything about me, I look at ENFPs that piss me off and think, “You are a poor reflection ON ME. STOP THAT.”

But sometimes, staring at their flaws, I see my reflection. I feel naked.

When I discovered in Hamilton! that the lead is a compulsive workaholic writer who maybe isn’t as thorough as he should be, who sometimes strong-arms people, and who comes across as erratic and uncontrolled, I thought, “CRAP.” When I went on to see Thomas Wolfe forsaking his family, his relationships, and his friendships (essentially, choosing to write over spending time with other people) for his writing in Genius, it was like someone shined a light in my face and exposed my deeper inner self. Crap, crap, CRAP.

So, there’s my hypothesis. Some people admit their flaws, own them, and love themselves anyway. Others really don’t want to see them reflected on a 90 foot screen in a movie theater.

- ENFP Mod

the song remains the same

[So. I was taking a break from writing an essay and stumbled across a post from @neonlightwood with Jimon prompts here. My brain then decided I absolutely needed to write the first one. Enjoy?]

Okay, so maybe the day had started off a little weirdly.

Not that Raphael was a big talker, usually preferring to intimidate people by giving them the silent and stony treatment, but the conversation had been a lot quieter than usual. He hadn’t told Simon to shut up more than twice, for one, and he kept staring at him in a way that was starting to make him uncomfortable. It reminded him too much of how they had met, when he was still a mundane, taken captive by Camille. Like prey, his brain helpfully supplied, and thank you so much for that, brain.

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I have tried to stay out of this for as long as possible, but I can not take it anymore. I can’t take to see this petty war turn our once so very beautiful fandom to a place where people are insulted and attacked because of their opinion.


Yes, it is absolutely okay if you adore Chaol above all else. Yes, it is okay if you adore Dorian above all else. Yes, it is okay if you adore Rowan above all else. Yes, it’s okay if you adore Sam above all else. Yes, it’s okay if you ship Aelin with no one at all.

I am choosing no side in this argument, even though I have a clear opinion on this matter. Everyone has a damn opinion, because everyone is different (UNIQUE). It’s normal that some people might like one character more than they like the other, because people’s tastes can vary. It’s the same with everything else in this world. 

For example: Your favorite band released 2 songs. You are listening to them and think to yourself: ‘I really don’t like the first one, but the second one is my new favorite song of the moment!’

See this is called having an opinion and expressing it calmly and rationally. A bad way to express your opinion is 'THE FIRST ONE IS THEIR WORST SONG EVER! IT’S CRAP! BUT THE SECOND IS THE BEST EVER LIKE OMFGS FIGHT ME’

Calling the first song 'their worst song ever’ and 'crap’ because you personally don’t like it, could hurt another person’s feelings. There will be people who liked the first song, perhaps because it has a special meaning to them.


What I am doing now? Showing my opinion. Telling you how all of this verbal warfare is weighing on the Throne of Glass community. How all this hate I see day after day after day actually really hurts me, and I know I’m not the only one getting hurt. 

I don’t care if you’ll ship Chaolaena until your end. I don’t care if you believe in Doraelin. I don’t care if you will ship Rowaelin to whatever end. I don’t care if you will forever hope that Sam magically come back alive. I don’t care if you think Aelin is a badass lady (which she is) and doesn’t need a man at all. 

NOT IN THIS POST. Because in this post, I am not going to attack people. I am not going to call people out, even though I want to. Even though I am getting sick of seeing people throwing hate at Sarah J. Maas. That is, I find, very disrespectful. It’s her world, her imagination. She is basically a goddess when it comes to the universe of her books, because her imagination shapes everything. And don’t you dare try to change her mind. Don’t you dare insult her because you personally didn’t like a thing that happened in the book. ACCEPT IT AND SWALLOW YOUR DAMN PRIDE. She is not going to rewrite the book because you are displeased. Would your god change the past because you are unhappy in the present? I do not want answers, for I am not going to start a debate on religion.  

But have you ever stood still and thought how much you might be hurting Sarah? If the answer is Yes and you still insulted her, then go stand in the corner and never come out, you horrible creature. 

As much as it might hurt a fan like me to see people hate on the world we love so much, I can’t imagine what it must be like for the author. You are basically insulting her imagination, her mind, her very soul. And perhaps she has managed to block the haters out, but some of those insults will still slip through the cracks of that blockade.

So please, PLEASE, think about your actions before you act. Surrender. Accept what happened. Do not hate. 

We all love the same world (and if you do not love it, then you are not a fan and you do not belong here in this fandom talking shit about it). We all love the same books, even though we will all have our favorite moments and characters. 








I hope some of you might have read my words and found some wisdom in them. I do not see myself as wise or think I am better than the rest of you. I am just a fangirl, heartbroken because I have to witness how our fandom is falling apart. This might not be the most important war that is being fought in this world, at this moment. In this war, no blood will spill (I hope), but tears will fall, allbeit mine are the only one. But I can’t keep them from falling as I write this (and listen to very emotional music). I am sick of all the hate. I am sick of all the arguments and fights. I have seen too much (verbal) fighting in my life. In fandoms, I used to feel safe and happy, but that has changed. This ‘war’ is not only destroying my safe haven, but probably others’ too. It is dividing us, ripping the fandom apart. And every day again, I see hate and disrespect in a place where I used to feel safe and happy. So please, if you are reading this, feel free to add your thoughts and share this message. 

CS Au Week Day 4: Future

Gosh, I wonder if anyone can place what fic this might take place in the future of… ;)

Since I was mean and traumatized everyone on Sunday, let’s jump ahead about five years. Come for the Captain Swan, stay for the teasing of Kristanna.

October 30, 2019

She’s not buying a new winter coat, she’s not, she’s not, she’s not. Dammit, it’s cold outside, but her stupid coat still fits. It just… doesn’t zip up anymore.

Emma walks out onto the porch, shivering a bit as the wind hits her full-on; winter had decided to blow in several weeks early, dumping half a foot of snow over the farm on her birthday last week. There’s two snowmen in the yard: a decent-sized one that Leo had insisted on building by himself and a tiny one Ruth had built by herself (with Emma to supervise). “Leo! Ruth! Come on, it’s time for dinner!”


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How They Tease You (Be My Princess 2)
  • Oliver: Affectionate. He hugs you, and whispers sweet words in your ear. It's all too much for your rather reserved personality. A blush erupts on your face and he practically gushes with more compliments. "You're so cute when you're embaressed!"
  • Sieg: Mean. He calls you a commoner. He tells you that you have good taste for a 'commoner'. And that you look fine in that dress for a 'commoner'. The first few times you laugh it off with a snide remark or two. But after an entire day you finally shed a tear, asking him if that's really all he sees in you. He hugs you close wiping your tears away. "I'm sorry you just look so cute when you get mad, that I wanted to see it again. I'm sorry!"
  • Hayden: Boyish. He'll flip your skirt up when you're not looking, and he'll tease you on your choice of underwear. But the minute anyone else does, he'll beat the crap out of them. You ride back home sitting on the handlebars of his bike, his body is covered with scrapes and bruises, diet staining his knees. You can't help but tell him that for a prince, he sure doesn't act like one. "I can't help it, when I'm around you, it's like I turn bake into a little boy."
  • Aslan: Cute. He doesn't even know he's doing it. He tells you that you're pretty, and he tells you that the dessert you made is the best in the world. He doesn't understand why your cheeks stain red. "What, are you feeling feverish?"
  • Ivan: Sexual. He slaps your butt whenever he walks past you, and kisses your neck whenever he catches you alone. He whispers dirty words in your ear, and he loves blowing in your ear whenever he passes by. Just to see the flushed look on your face immediately afterwards. He grins, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Make sure you only show that expression to me."
  • Kuon: Needy. He kisses your neck and wraps a strand of hair around his finger around your hair and he whispers in your ear. "We should a start bath ring together, I don't really like this new shampoo you've been using."
  • -SKY

anonymous asked:

Could I ask why Ren is anti Tangled? There's something about that movie that overall I just don't like and I can't place my finger on it.

 Since I’ve been asked a few times about this, I’ll share my opinion.

Note: This is entirely my opinion, my interpretation of the film. It’s based on my past experiences, my world view, and my tastes. It’s an extremely unpopular opinion, but it’s one that hasn’t changed since I first saw the film.

Tangled is the film equivalent of cold soupy oatmeal.

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vefanyar  asked:

I could cry reading your answer on finishing things. Though I do tend to finish what I write (not always, but often), being disgusted by my writing (10+ years at it, no talent or voice to speak of) struck home... but it never would have occured to me to affirm that I'm producing crap instead of just forcing my way through a process I do enjoy but can't put on the page right and lately thought about giving up. I haven't tried it yet, but "liberating" doesn't even begin to cover this. Thank you.

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It’s Not Your Popularity; it’s Their Entitlement.

My friend messaged me today, upset about “people on the internet”. More specifically, recent backlash to Metroid Prime: Federation Force and Blast Ball. This goes beyond just backlash though; apparently, there’s petitions to shut down the game as well as some other things. He said it pissed him off. He said at least the developers are experimenting and trying out things, and that a lot of hard work might have went into development of that game. I pointed out how it just didn’t look good. It might not look good at all, but hard work must have gone into it, and there was no right for people to be making petitions as well as issuing casual death threats.  

“My dad is watching a documentary interview about The Hollies,” I typed back, after saying I’d tell him a story. “They’re a British band who were famous around the time of The Beatles; recorded in the same studio, wrote a lot of songs that got famous, they were big. ‘Bubblegum pop’ stuff way back in the day. There was a point where the lead singer and writer, Graham Nash, wanted to write more artistic stuff, more stuff that was deep. He wrote King Midas in Reverse and he loved it, it was his pride and joy, he held it in such high regard. They put a lot of work and orchestration into it. It was critically acclaimed but only charted in the Top 30, ultimately a flop.

“Nash and the band had to sit down and think, because they realized then that the band was not on the same page, and they realized they had to do something. The lead wanted to deviate away from their bubblegum pop sound that they used to do, that they were known for. But it seemed like they couldn’t risk it. As much as the lead wanted to break that old thing, and not be defined by what people thought, he couldn’t do it. 

Now their wives or girlfriends, I don’t know who, I forgot - they suggested a silly thing, so they wrote a song called Jennifer Eccles. It has a catchy whistle to it and everything, I actually like that song, so does my dad. The band for the most part despised it. The whistle that everybody knew became the bane of their existence. It sounded like their old shit, very simple and sweet and silly.” I could actually feel my teeth clench as I finished typing. “Top 2 on the charts. It saved the band until Nash left.”

My friend understood, and bless him, he knows his shit. I told him I was glad he understood how much work and effort goes into content creation; I also reminded him sometimes it doesn’t work out for the best, as was demonstrated countless times by many people other than some British boy band. He quickly pointed out that he was into the K-Pop scene, known for some of the most rabid fans out there. I chuckled and said “yeah, tl;dr entitlement”. He said he hated the word. I said I hated when people resonated of it. 

Sometimes, we tell people all the time that they should do what makes them happy. Sometimes, we tell people the moment they try something they like, that it’s utter crap and to go back to the other stuff because they’re not good at it, or we don’t like it. By the rule of “you can’t please everyone” and “everyone likes different things” this is a fascinating conundrum, and it’s expected. It’s human, it’s understandable and it’s okay.

I myself am not looking forward to the new Metroid games at all. I feel like it’s a waste of resources, time, and effort that could be going into a better attempt at a Metroid game. As a content creator, I understand how taxing that must be when you work on something and just cross your fingers, shoving the negativity in the back of your mind that says “people are not going to like this” when it’s more than just the anxiousness but instinct and statistics telling you this.

Being a fandom content creator teaches you that very quickly. Once you want to break away from it, or if you even take a break to make something different - not many people care as much since the type of people you want looking at it aren’t around, or maybe they don’t like it. Doesn’t matter how many man-hours you put into it or if you tried something new. Doesn’t matter if you like it compared to that stupid little sketch or thing you made that’s still getting notes. Doesn’t matter. A lot of the times, so many people (who have built up recognition but want to try something new) give up on original content or doing something different because they feel like what they think doesn’t matter. It only matters when it caters to the people who recognize their other stuff, even after they’ve expressed they don’t want to do it as much or they want to stop.

Is that our own faults as fan-artists? Maybe, probably. So we try to appeal to the popular demographic again, knowing that there’s some people we just cannot please. Knowing that it’s easier that way, but it may or may not help us in the end. Some of us have found bigger success than others with their original content or deviating away from our old fandom popularity. Some of us are still getting messages about “why aren’t you doing [x] stuff anymore? :(”. 

I’ve been in the TF2 fandom for a while; I’m going to be in this fandom for a while. But I’ve seen an artist or four who have quit doing TF2 fanart; one reason because they actually thought they were getting worse, another one stating it was their crutch and part of a bad time in their life. I’ve heard several video creators who have said they’d rather not burn out playing TF2 and the videos they’re so proud of have little to no views compared to the ones they shat out in instances. I’ve witnessed animators who want to make other things other than TF2 machinima in SFM, only for the comments to be flooded with people telling them they’re worthless if it’s not TF2 or if it’s not something they’re known for. I no longer want to tell the person who inspired me to dedicate production to the competitive scene that he inspired me because he no longer wants to be associated with that side of him. 

Sometimes, we tell people to do what they want to do, what makes them happy, even if it’s different. Sometimes, we tell people we don’t like it when they do something different. It’s human, it’s understandable and it’s okay. But sometimes, it fucks me up because it’s funny how that works

Hi Guys! Well, looks like I got myself into a new multi chapter, lol. I hope you guys enjoy!

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Blind Dates Part 1

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anonymous asked:

i'm tired of cas stans & their double standards, claiming dean is abusive to cas mainly based off on dean beating up cas in s10, forgetting that dean wasn't himself he was controlled by the MoC, like cas wasn't himself all the times he beat up dean when he was mind-controlled, how is dean held accountable for things he can't control while they don't do the same when it's cas, it's frustrating, please i need some thoughts/proof that dean cares 4 cas & not abusive from some1 articulate, can you?

Hi there. Yeah, I think most of the bitterest Cas girls blocked me last year because I was overly-excited about what I saw as the beginning of an amazing arc for Cas’s character development, so I admit I don’t really see a lot of their posts anymore. I don’t know what the current rhetoric is on that front, but it’s kind of disturbing to read your description there. I don’t really know what the heck to make of that.

Sam, Dean, and Cas have each made their fair share of terrible, awful decisions. They’ve collectively done some horrible shit to each other. Since we’re specifically talking about Cas and Dean for the purposes of your question, I guess I’ll try to leave Sam out of this and just focus on the crap that Dean and Cas have done to each other, both in the name of the greater good and in the misguided attempt to “protect” each other, as well as those things that fall into the category of “done while mindfucked so probably is entitled to at least a little leeway and not 100% responsible for the fuckery.”

*flashback harp noises and rippling effect*

S4 Cas demanded that Dean torture Alistair for info. Granted it was a trap for both of them set by Uriel, and they both nearly died because of it, but still. It was one of the worst things I have ever seen. Dean practically begging not to, and even Cas saying if there was any other way he wouldn’t be doing this, but… yeah. Ugh. I mean, even making Dean choose to save that town in 4.07 was pretty awful, especially when Dean learned the truth about Cas’s test.

But IT LED TO CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! CAS GREW A FEELING! ANOTHER DOORWAY TO DOUBT! It began to change him in all the best ways. And every time Cas and Dean have purposely or inadvertently hurt each other, it’s been a push to do something different. It’s character growth.

And ugh, I can already hear the chorus of but why do they have to beat each other for character development! That’s SOOOOO not healthy! It’s abuse! UGH!

This is a story. These are plot devices. They are not real people.This is not real life. In real life, we don’t have literal angels and demons trying to start the apocalypse, and men who were born to be the true vessels of Michael and Lucifer who were fated to destroy the world, either. Okay, moving on to your actual question.

I guess I should just focus on s8-11 here, because this is getting more specifically to the point. Because of the crushing weight of his guilt, Cas left Dean– a squishy nougat-filled human– to fend for himself in Purgatory. It was the least he felt he could do to protect Dean from the Leviathan. When Dean got out, Cas chose to stay behind. It pushed every abandonment issue button Dean had.

When Cas came back, he was unknowingly being controlled by Naomi who’d trained him to kill thousands of copies of Dean. Was he responsible for his actions in the crypt in 8.17? He broke free of Naomi’s control and healed Dean, but protecting the Angel Tablet was hardwired into him. Instead of staying with Dean, he flew away to protect the tablet. I’m not convinced that he had any other choice. The tablet was now controlling him, demanding his protection above everything else, even his feelings for Dean. Even though Dean still was technically in danger from Crowley and Naomi.

Do we blame Cas for that? I mean, Dean sort of did at the time. He cold-shouldered Cas until he came to a sort-of understanding about Naomi. Until he got a glimpse of the bigger picture. And then Cas abandoned him again, and then the angels fell.

So, Dean was in an impossible situation largely of his own making but spiraled so far out of his control that it’s literally sickening. Based on Cas’s word that “Ezekiel” was a good angel that could be trusted, Dean trusted Gadreel… and then paid the price for it. Desperate times and all that… (and because of the nature of your question, I’m leaving out all the crap with Sam at the moment because that’s a whole other can of worms).

So this angel’s essentially holding Sam hostage and making demands on Dean. He’s got the equivalent of a gun to Sam’s head when he tells Dean that Cas can’t stay at the bunker. Yeah, as far as we know Dean just pushed Cas out the front door without a damn thing, but really? You don’t think he at least gave Cas a bag of gear and a couple of fake credit cards or a wad of cash? Okay. And yeah, I HATE that that whole scenario happened at all, but again, Cas was human and the only angel Dean had to help him keep Sam alive was making this demand on him. DEAN hated it, too, but at least Cas had a chance of survival out on his own. Without “Zeke,” Sam was as good as dead. No takebacksies. It wasn’t Dean “choosing Sam over Cas.” Considering his options, he chose life. Sending Cas away wasn’t issuing him a death sentence, after all.

And yes, that’s what I imagine was going through Dean’s mind at the time. I didn’t say it was good or healthy or right, just honest and hella heartbreaking.

Do we blame Dean for this? Really? REALLY?!

I saw something once that said that Cas hadn’t really been responsible for hurting Dean in the crypt because he didn’t choose to be mind-controlled, but that Dean could be blamed for all the crap he did because he chose to let Gadreel into Sam, and he chose to take on the Mark of Cain. Well, yeah, but do you think he would’ve chosen if he had a crystal ball and could’ve seen into his own future? Do you think he would’ve chosen either of those things if he’d known what the consequences would be? Possibly, but THEN I would’ve blamed him for all of that. As things stand? Yeah, Dean had no idea what he was signing up for.

So that brings us to the horrible things Dean did under the influence of the Mark. Yeah, we know it amplified his own darker tendencies, but it was FAR more than that. It was literally the keyhole into Amara’s prison where she could whisper through the cracks and control Dean’s actions.

Look at 10.09 (and I JUST wrote something about this the other day). That was all the proof I needed that the Mark didn’t just amplify Dean’s “dark side.” It actively controlled him. He didn’t even remember what he’d done. Even Crowley told him that the mark had to be fed, and if he hadn’t been supplying regular feedings, it would’ve taken control and driven Dean to lose control. It was the mega-intense non-fatal version of the Darkness sickness from 11.01 (and from 11.20). He was literally being controlled by the Darkness.

The fact that Chuck said in 11.22 that Dean couldn’t take on the Mark again so it had to be someone else (and I cringed through that whole scene because it was just one more instance of Chuck avoiding taking responsibility for what eventually happened in 11.23, of reuniting HIMSELF with the Darkness, as it always should’ve been). Dean was somehow immune to it at that point. Amara couldn’t kill him, she couldn’t “eat his soul,” she couldn’t infect him with her death fog.

So, was Dean responsible for the actions that the Darkness drove him to commit? Sam wouldn’t think so. I mean look how hard he worked to cure the zompires in 11.01. He didn’t blame them for their actions while they were infected. He just wanted to save them. Same thing goes for Dean with the Mark.

Yes, what he did to Cas was terrible, but remember Cain’s words in 10.14. Dean had been “fated” to murder Cas, and he resisted. The combined weight of Cain’s prophecy and the influence of the Darkness, and DEAN RESISTED. He couldn’t do it. So, yeah. That’s pretty damn powerful.

CAS UNDERSTOOD ALL OF THAT. Cas forgave Dean, and probably blamed himself for not beng able to break through to Dean despite having not fought back. Despite probably remembering what he’d done to Dean all the way back in 8.17. Despite wanting nothing more than to make his friend whole again.

And then at the beginning of s11 when Cas was under Rowena’s attack dog spell. Yeah he seemed to have a bit more control over himself than her other victims of that spell (hooray angel grace, I guess?), but he was still fighting a losing battle against it. Dean, still feeling the pain and guilt of what he’d done to Cas in 10.22, took the beating Cas gave him as retribution for his actions against Cas.

Do we blame Cas for that? Do we blame him for hurting Dean? He’d been about to take his wrath out on an innocent girl before Dean stepped in and stopped him. Do we blame Cas for that?

Their actions weren’t their own. The two things were being used as NARRATIVE PARALLELS to show that both Dean and Cas WERE NOT THEMSELVES. Neither of them would’ve chosen to act that way. Neither of them were in control of their actions or in possession of reason.

Does that somehow cancel out their actions and clean the slate? Not by a long shot. Does that make their actions forgivable? Probably not entirely. Does that help EACH OF THEM UNDERSTAND WHAT THE OTHER WAS GOING THROUGH AND MAYBE CONTRIBUTE TO WHY THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES BEAR NO GRUDGES AGAINST ONE ANOTHER?! Well, yeah.

So why should we bear grudges against either of them?

Dammit, they live some pretty fucked up lives. But again, they are fictional characters. We only get to see about 17 hours of their lives out of an entire year. Should we assume they’ve had conversations that we’re not privy to? Probably. Should we assume they’ve apologized to one another off screen and that’s why they seem to have gotten over this? It’s likely that we’re to assume something of the sort, because Dean and Cas themselves are behaving as if they have gotten over these things.

Are we ever going to be shown A Very Special Supernatural Group Therapy Episode, oh god no I hope not.

When the characters on tv shows seem to have put their issues behind them, it’s okay to accept that they’ve forgiven each other and move on. And then write fanfic to fill the gap.

Romance in Inuyasha: An Adapted Soap Opera
  • Kagome: Inuyasha where the hell were you it's been thirty minutes
  • Inuyasha: I went to talk to Kikyou for a bit
  • Kagome: Oh okay
  • Kagome:
  • Kagome: What were you talking about
  • Inuyasha: Naraku's whereabouts and what he might be planning. He might be planning to--
  • Kagome: So that's it
  • Inuyasha: What
  • Kagome: That's all you two were talking about
  • Inuyasha: ...Yeah?
  • Kagome: You're definitely not lying
  • Inuyasha: No, of course not
  • Kagome:
  • Kagome:
  • Inuyasha: Kago--?
  • Kagome: You know what, I'm done
  • Inuyasha: Wha--
  • Inuyasha: I--
  • Kagome: SHUT UP AND DON'T FOLLOW ME *jumps down the well*
  • Inuyasha: *mumbles* Hmph, who needs her?
  • Shippou: You're so stupid Inuyasha, what's wrong with you
  • Sango: You just can't stop hurting Kagome's feelings, it's not like you were telling the truth
  • Miroku: It's not like you have some guilt complex or other deep rooted feelings from your tragic past that are causing your turmoil
  • Inuyasha: Well actually, I--
  • Shippou: Go get her back
  • Sango: Yeah what he said
  • Inuyasha: What no way
  • Miroku: It's not like you weren't going to do it anyway
  • Inuyasha: Cut the crap, she's just a pain in the ass!
  • Inuyasha: .....
  • Inuyasha: *taps foot*
  • Inuyasha: Ha, she's more trouble than she's worth anyway
  • Inuyasha: .....
  • Inuyasha: *anxiously looks down the well with deep longing*
  • Inuyasha: What an emotionally unstable, doubtful idiot
  • Inuyasha:
  • Inuyasha:
  • Inuyasha: Oh to hell with it *follows Kagome*
  • Sango: Honestly, I can't believe Kagome still likes that guy
  • Sango: He doesn't even know how to stick to one girl
  • Shippou: Like Miroku?
  • Sango: Yeah, like--
  • Village girl: *Gasps* H-Houshi-sama???
  • Miroku: *Groping village girl's butt*
  • Miroku: Shit
  • Miroku: Sango this isn't what it looks like-- I lost my balance, I swear
  • Miroku: Sango?
  • Sango:
  • Sango: *lion roar*
  • Shippou: I can't even deal with this shit anymore

I was really emotional about episode 9, so I wrote this cheesy cliche feely thing.  I’m trash.  Also, I’m in sourin hell.

Rin moaned, pulled from a strange dream feeling uncomfortably hot and stuffy.  He muttered groggily and tried to shrug off his blanket, but it wouldn’t budge.  He attempted to kick it, but his legs were pinned to the bed.  Then the blanket mumbled something incoherent against his ear.

Rin wanted to just tell the stupid blanket to shut up and stop being so freaking warm, when the realization wormed it’s way into his sleep addled mind that most blankets didn’t speak.  And they weren’t usually that heavy, Jesus.

Rin cracked an eye open to find Sousuke’s body draped over his, the larger boy snoring into his ear.

How the hell did that happen?

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I wrote the first rough draft of my book and was really looking forward to revising it! But I can see how much revision it needs, and how much more research and planning I'll need before I can really do that, and it's gone from "I WROTE A NOVEL!" to paralyzing terror that this is way too big and too much and I can't do it and not being able to tell which one of two directions to take with the revision. Trying to work on other projects leaves me as terrified too now. I can't even pick up a pen!

Take a deep breath.


And another.

Now, say this to yourself, out loud: The anxiety I’m feeling about this is COMPLETELY NORMAL.

Because it is normal. It’s more than normal. It’s freaking super-normal. Often there’s a huge to-do made about just finishing a draft, just getting that book from start to finish and having something written. Many people start on that path, and many people never even get that first draft done. You’ve accomplished that, and that’s great. It’s an achievement. Pat yourself on the back. Seriously, do it. Or pat a pet or stuffed animal if you don’t like being touched. Or do a celebration dance.

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Now, you’ve hit that second massive hurdle. That glorious thing you wrote? Probably 80% crap. And guess what? That’s true of practically every other author on the planet once they finish their first draft. How does it get from being mostly crap to a finished book? A lot of work (A LOT). Hours and hours of time spent pouring over sentences and paragraphs, character analyses, plot hole noticing and filling, possible changes in setting or of protagonists or POV. It sometimes seems endless, and you have to constantly ask yourself: Why am I doing this? What do I ultimately want?

The answer that should satisfy? Because you have to — you need to finish, for yourself. If you don’t write this book, no one will. And if you’re taking the time to do it, don’t you want to do it right?

Anxiety, stress, fear of failure and/or just the daunting task of work to reach completion are things every writer struggles with, so the other thing you need to do? Get used to this feeling. It’s probably not going to go away with other projects and more experience. However, it can lessen a bit, and you can move past it, by realizing that you’re not alone, it’s normal to have these feelings, and that without your efforts, this story may never be told.

Take another deep breath.

This is your story. You can tell it, and if it’s the right story, you’ll find you need to tell it.

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Hope this helps!

- O

Well here I am making a follow forever. It is my birthday, and I’m like 20(?) followers away till 1k, so might as well just make it anyway. Literally I love everybody that follows me. You guys are amazing and you guys push me to write like I do, and you are just so supportive and amazing. I’ve made some wonderful friends on this website, and I’m so grateful for them. Even though I have gotten stuff about having friends on here since they aren’t “really your best friends” I’m still here talking and becoming friends with everyone I have. Shout out to the people that I don’t talk to. Even though we don’t talk I still love you. It literally took me so long to do the gif lol. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do, then I found this. I’m adding a keep reading link since this is probably going to be super long. Let’s get this show on the road.

Keep reading

ssenseless  asked:

my dream is to write a screenplay, but everytime I face the blank page I feel paralyzed by fear and can't write a thing. when i write, I feel its all lies i'm putting down. do you have any tips on how to improve getting in the state of flow?

Every writer wrestles with the blank page. 

Some tips:

  • You get into the flow by just jumping in. Start writing. It will probably be crap. But just write. You’ll find yourself getting into a groove. Then you just delete the crap that you wrote at the beginning. 
    • This is an excellent trick for writing papers. I always did this in college. You start writing and it can take you a little while to get to the point. Go back and axe the stuff you wrote when you were warming up. 
  • Read the book Save the Cat. It is excellent for giving you an idea of how a typical screenplay is structured. Then you can decide how you want yours to be. 
  • “Write drunk, edit sober.” This has always worked for me. 
    • I don’t mean literally get trashed and write, although some authors have been known to do that. 
    • “Write drunk” here means that you should just go for it, get into it, and don’t try to censor or edit yourself. Don’t judge your writing, don’t get caught up in the minutia. Instead, let it excite you and carry you away. 
    • “Edit sober” means that once you’ve splattered your art onto the page, then you return to it with an intelligent and critical eye. See what needs deleting, what needs tweaking, and what needs to be expanded upon. 
  • Do you. Writers have many influences and inspirations but in the end only you can write your own way. Embracing your own uniqueness and style is both a matter of openness and experience. It is something you discover and then deepen.
    • Don’t try to write like someone else but learn what worked for others. 
    • Discover what works for you. 
  • Don’t judge your work until you have to. If you take the fun out of writing and story-telling, you’ll never want to do it. Keep it fun, make it an experience for you. It’s like watching a movie but getting to make it how you’d enjoy it most. 
    • Writing and editing are two different mindsets. If you try to edit while you write, it’ll be like getting caught in stop-and-start traffic. Such a pain. 

Namaste :) Hope this helped. 

trying not to take this too much to heart, but...

I have a good friend who recently moved to LA. She’s back in town because she left the majority of her things here in the condo she shared with her sister while she figured out where she was living, etc., so she was back to pack things up. I’d been in contact, like hey! want to see you! Particularly because we made it a point when she left in December that that was not “goodbye” since we’d hang out when she was back in town. She said we should get together Sunday - then pushed things back to today because she’s been sick (I offered to bring her soup on Saturday, but she was grabbing drinks with a work friend (?)). 

It sounds like she won’t be able to make tonight work either, which, I get it. If you feel like crap, I don’t want to force you to hang out with me. But I just found out she hung out with a mutual friend of ours (one of my close friends) on Thursday… and I just can’t help but to feel left out. This is someone I consider a very close and dear friend. Had I known those two were doing something on Thursday, I would have come out (I had zero plans). But I guess I wasn’t invited. :(

I also feel a little hurt because… she was still able to go out on Saturday night while feeling like crap, but isn’t able to do the same tonight (even though I, again, offered to bring pho to her instead of forcing her out into the cold and sleet). 

I just keep feeling like I’m losing friends… or that the people I consider to be close friends maybe don’t feel the same way? I don’t know. Again, trying not to take too much to heart, but it still sucks.

A Different Kind of Cruelty (p.1)
  • Kinda got this idea from imyourliquor-youremypoison right here on tumblr. Totally agree with you! Peter needs a badass chick.
  • And sorry about the awkward bold spots. I don't know how to fix that.
  • ---$---
  • Title: A Different Kind of Cruelty (p.1)
  • Pairing: PanxReader
  • Warnings: Cursing, abuse, talks about drugs
  • Summary: This isn't your average sweet damsel in distress that Peter seems to get stuck with. This is a kick-ass tale of pirates and fairies, punching guys, hitting jerks, and all around Neverland style adventure.
  • ---$---
  • The silent neighborhood looks peaceful. A late night dew blankets the grass; the streetlights spray soothing streams of light on the dark streets, creating a quiet and calm environment for the perfect families inhabiting each house. You scoff at your internal narration. Your family is far from perfect.
  • You run down the road in a hurry. He's never going to forgive you for this. Twenty minutes past curfew? That's inexcusable.
  • Dad is going to kill you.
  • You take a left on your street. The only house with a porch light is your own. Your bag hits your leg as you run. *Crap, crap, crap. I'm dead.*
  • You could see the police report now. "Y/N Parker was found dead in the local swamp late this afternoon. She was choked to death by her overbearing father and his perfect little wife helped hide the body."
  • No. You couldn't let that happen. So you picked up the pace and jumped your fence. The back door is always open. You slip into the house. The kitchen is silent: no one in sight. Once you make it up the stairs, you're home free!
  • You hear a gruff snore that stops you in your tracks. Dread fills your lungs as you peek into the living room. Your father reclines in his old chair, the TV playing white noise. He's asleep. There's still a chance.
  • You tiptoe behind his chair, being careful not to disturb the sacred recliner. He shifts a few times, making you jump and stop in your tracks, but you finally make it up the stairs. Unnoticed, you rush as quietly as possible into your room. With a deep, relieved breath, you change into your favorite pajamas.
  • As you're hiding the evidence of your late night excursion, your door is pushed open.
  • Dammit. You've been caught.
  • "Look, it's not what you think-" you begin. Your cover up comes to a quick stop when you see the big round blue eyes staring back at you. "Penny? What are you doing?"
  • Your half sister quietly and quickly closes your door and jumps onto your bed. "Where were you? You've been gone for hours, Y/N."
  • "You noticed?"
  • Penny nods, and that feeling of the world collapsing fills you again.
  • "Did Dad?"
  • "He almost did." Penny looks down, fiddling with your blankets. "I kept him away from your room. Told him you were working on all that late homework."
  • "Oh my god, Penny, you are a life-saver!" You trap your sister in a hug, grateful that something good came out of your father's second marriage.
  • "You're going to tell me what you were doing, right?" She watches you expectantly.
  • You were planning to tell her anyway, but you have to be careful. "Okay, you promise- on Justin Timberlake's life- that you won't tell another soul?"
  • Penny nods vigorously, crossing her heart.
  • You grab your bag and open it to show her the contents.
  • "Is that-"
  • "Shhhh!" You cover your sister's mouth before she can say it so loudly. "You have to be quiet."
  • Penny lowers her voice to a whisper. "Where did you get all that money?"
  • You shrug off the question. "Not important."
  • Truth is- it's very important. If you're caught, you could go to Juvey for a very long time.
  • That's what happens when you steal your father's medication and sell it.
  • "This is at least eight hundred dollars, Y/N!" Penny looks at you with worry. "What did you do?"
  • Penny is old enough to know that this much money doesn't come from selling lollipops or doing good deeds.
  • "Like I said, it doesn't matter. I can leave with this."
  • Penny doesn't answer. Which worries you. Usually, the problem is getting her to be quiet. "Why do you have to leave?"
  • "What's wrong, Pen? Aren't you happy? You and your mom and Dad can be a real family without the illegitimate child."
  • "What about me?" Penny demands. You're taken aback by her response. She should be all smiles. Dad won't want you punish you for looking like your mother anymore. Penny and her mom can be the perfect family they always wanted. The "problem child" would be a part of their past. And you would be getting out of a world of hurt that you didn't want to be a part of.
  • "What about you? You'll be happy, Penny."
  • She crosses her arms and stands. "You don't get it, do you?" Penny clenches her fists and starts shouting. "I want you to stay! I don't want you to leave me here!"
  • You can't believe it. "You want me to stay here where I get hit and beat and yelled at all the time? When I'm gone, Dad can have his perfect little family! You'll be happy!"
  • "You don't get it!" Penny screams. "I'm happy now! I want my sister to stay."
  • "That is so selfish!" you hiss quietly. You don't want to wake your father. "You are the perfect daughter, Penny. Dad really only wants you, and I'm not staying here with all this pain when I can leave."
  • "Fine! Leave me here alone with him!"
  • "That's the plan!"
  • "I hate you!" Penny yells, stomping out of your room. "You're not even my real sister!"
  • "Maybe that's a good thing!" you yell back.
  • Penny slams the door in your face, leaving the whole house eerily quiet.
  • "Girls?" Tatiana calls from her room. The noise is muffled through the door. "Penny, what's wrong?"
  • You can hear Penny crying in the hall, and can imagine her running to her mother's open arms. You can't hear what's being said, but you would bet all eight hundred and ninety seven dollars you have that she's spilling all of your secrets. Tatiana will call the police, but not after your dad takes "proper" disciplinary action.
  • You're not about to stick around for that.
  • You throw some extra clothes into your bag, along with your stash of money you made from odd jobs around the neighborhood. You figure that you have at least nine hundred fifty dollars in all. Your secret heap of food goes into the bag next. A bottle of syrup, half a box of nutty bars, and a bag of Cheez-Its. Not the best you could do, but you'll get more once you hit the road.
  • Now... How to get out of the house?
  • You can still hear Penny and her mother talking in the hallway, so that limits your options. The only remaining exit is your second floor window.
  • You could just jump for it, but you'd most likely break a bone or something else that isn't helpful in attaining your goal. You don't have any rope.
  • But you do have seven different blankets on your bed.
  • What? Sometimes you get really cold.
  • You quickly tie them together and throw your makeshift rope out the window. It almost touches the ground.
  • Where to tie it? It barely functions as a rope. You don't feel like trying your chances at a parachute.
  • You decide to secure it to your dresser leg. It's probably sturdy enough to support you.
  • A series of quick knocks sounds from your door, startling you. Tatiana’s concerned voice comes through the hollow wood. "Y/N? Are you getting ready for bed?"
  • "Yeah. Just... brushing my hair."
  • "Oh, okay. Well, Penny is a bit worried about you. Could we talk?"
  • You have to get her out of here. Now. "I'm really tired, Tatiana. Could we talk about this tomorrow?"
  • You can practically hear her thinking it through, trying to be the best stepmom she can be. "Alright, sweetie. Well, goodnight."
  • "Don't let the bedbugs bite," you mutter in relief, her footsteps retreating to her room.
  • You continue with your plan, changing out of your cozy pajamas and throwing them in your bag. Maybe tomorrow when you get to a hotel.
  • You've been planning this escape for years. You know exactly where you're going and just how you're going to get there. You'll travel to a town in the opposite direction of your objective and plant your phone in a hotel room. It would take you a while out of your way, but it would be worth it. Your fake I.D. would definitely come in handy on this trip.
  • Your final destination: Ann Arbor, Michigan. The only lead you have on your mom.
  • And if the whole finding your long lost mother thing doesn't work out, you'll be eighteen in two years. You just have to last that long.
  • "Y/N?"
  • Dad.
  • "Yeah?" You pull on your pajamas as quickly and quietly as you can.
  • "I heard you were yelling at Penny. Is that true?"
  • "I guess," you reply, trying to choose your words carefully without incriminating yourself. "It was a stupid argument."
  • "Penny's crying over something stupid?"
  • Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap.
  • If Penny is still crying, then you are most definitely dead.
  • "Is she?"
  • You throw your bag and all its special contents under your bed right before your father bursts through the door. You couldn't tell before, but he's pissed.
  • "You're going to apologize to Penny, you hear me?" he hisses.
  • Oh, you hear him. If you thought you could get away with it, you would tell him to take his damn apology and shove it. But you are smarter than that. So you say, "Yes, sir."
  • "Why do you always have to mess everything up?" he demands. "Why can't you be good like Penny?"
  • You just can't keep your mouth shut. "You mean why did you meet my mom before you met Tatiana?" you ask viciously. "Why was I born at all?"
  • "Shut up, you little bitch!" A sting explodes across your face, sending you to the floor. "Your mother was a slut, and if she hadn't run off and left you, you would be out of my hair!"
  • You can see Penny peeking into your room. The shock and horror written on her face is clear to see, but you think you notice something else. Something more sinister.
  • There's some relief on her face, too. Like she's thinking, I'm glad it's not me. You deserve this, though. Don't you, Y/N? Selling drugs? Running away? You know that he's right.
  • Your father kicks you in your gut, making you want to vomit. You think you might if he does it again. He grabs your hair, yelling more insults, but you aren't listening anymore. He bangs your head on the floor, and the pain explodes across your skull. He does it again.
  • And again.
  • “Leave me alone!” you scream. “Get away from me, you douchebag!”
  • “I’m what?” he cries just as loudly. “I’m what?”
  • You climb to your feet, pain radiating through your body, but you refuse to back down. “You. Are. A. Douchebag!”
  • He smacks you one more time, and continues kicking your gut. Finally, finally your vision goes black, and you lose consciousness.
  • --$--
  • You feel like you've been floating for days. Maybe you have been. Maybe you're still unconscious.
  • Maybe he finally killed you.
  • That can't be right. You feel something on your leg- something wet, sticky.
  • You peel your eyes open, expecting to wake up in a hospital bed. Expecting pain.
  • Both are suspiciously missing.
  • In their place is a grassy floor and that sticky wet feeling on your leg.
  • You turn into your back to see a group of boys at your feet. This weakens your senses and you sit up with a jerk.
  • "What do we do?" one of the boys mutters.
  • "She just appeared-"
  • "-out of thin air-"
  • "-like magic."
  • A crude looking blond with a heavy looking club parts the crowd like he's the one in charge. "Quiet! We take her to Pan."
  • "Whoa." You aren't about to be quiet and do what they say. "You're not taking me anywhere."
  • The blond smiles. "We've got a feisty one, boys!"
  • The boys erupt in laughter, and more sticky wet stuff lands on your leg. You pull your legs away from the crowd, and finally see what's there. It's syrup. Like maple syrup and pancakes. Without the pancakes.
  • That's when you see a little boy with a bottle of syrup. Your bottle of syrup.
  • A few boys are rummaging through your bag, throwing your stuff all over the sand. Your money flies through the wind.
  • "Hey!" you shout, grabbing your bag and as much of your stuff as you can. "That's mine!"
  • One of the boys has a bra around his head, and two more are finishing off your nutty bars.
  • That's it. No one steals your nutty bars.
  • "Leave me the hell alone!" you scream. You pull yourself onto your feet and stand as tall as you possibly can. You're barely at eye level with most of them. "I'm not going anywhere with you, and if you think otherwise, you're delusional."
  • The boys stare at you for a minute. The blond steps in, getting in your face and yanking your bag out of your hands. "You'll do whatever we want you to. And this is mine now."
  • He's bigger than you and he's got an army made of teenage boys. He can probably outfight you, and even if you can get away-
  • Well, figuring out where you are and how to leave isn't the problem at hand.
  • So you do the only thing you can think to do. You drive your knee into his groin and take off in the other direction.
  • The other boys have no idea what to do, and you're long gone before you hear the blond yelling at his lackeys.
  • Douchebag.
  • You don't stop running until you see a huge bush and don't think twice before diving into it. A thorny vine sticks you, and it takes all you have to not gasp in pain.
  • This isn't the worst pain you've been through. You will survive.
  • "Where'd she go?" a boy yells, stamping into the area.
  • "I thought you had eyes on her?"
  • "No, you did!"
  • They run away bickering about who's responsible for you.
  • You use the quiet time to take stock of your situation. If you wait it out long enough, you should be able to make it out of this forest and find a main road.
  • You don't even stop to think about those weird boys and their strange clothing and old fashioned weapons. Or the fact that they have weapons at all.
  • For the time being, you're alive and free. The first step to survival.