i found this my drafts i can't remember when i do that

when he sees her again, she’s riding on the back of a wolf.  not a small wolf, either–a wolf the size of a horse–a direwolf.  he remembers a girl who always seemed to climb everything, castle walls, trees, so why not a direwolf?  

he should say, “you’re alive,” should tell her that he’s missed her, that he’s spent years wondering where she’d run off to that night, but instead, he hears himself saying, “where’ve you been, then?”

she rolls her eyes at him, a hardened smirk playing at her lips.  “it’s not where i’ve been–it’s where i’m going.”

“oh? and where’s that?” he knows the answer, knows it before the word even falls from her lips.

“winterfell,” she says, and rests her hand on top of the wolf’s head.  “i’m taking my pack home.”

there’s something strange in her eyes–something wary.  he’s never seen her look at him this way, not ever.  he doesn’t like it.  she always used to trust him implicitly.  he doesn’t like it that she might not, still.

once she’d promised him that her kingly brother would find him a place to serve in his household.  she’d been covered in dirt, then.  she looks more a princess now than ever she had when she’d been a girl on that back of that direwolf.  but there’s the same intensity to her face that he’s always known, and it’s that, more than anything else, that makes him open his mouth to speak again.

“do you only have your wolves?  no army to take back winterfell?”

“my wolves are more than enough,” she says, looking back over her shoulder.  there are hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, and gendry doesn’t want to think about what would happen if the hell bitch arya is riding decided that he looks edible.

“so you have no need of a knight errant, then?”

her eyes are bright now, shining and grey, like little moons in her face.  “i have need of any who’d join me,” she says before pausing.  “if…if you’d come with me.”

gendry takes a step towards her, and she vaults off the back of her wolf and is running at him and a moment later she’s in his arms, and he’s in hers.

anonymous asked:

I really adore your writting and was wondering if you have any tips or advice? I've always had a vivid imagination that produces many story ideas, but when I try to write I find that I can't get whats in my head out into words. I don't know if you have trouble like this, but if you do what do you usually do? Sorry if I'm bothering you.

No bother at all!

To be perfectly honest… I struggle a lot when it comes to writing. I honestly couldn’t tell you what on earth I’ve managed to do in Goblin Men to make so many people love it and its style. I’ve been trying to pin it down and replicate it for my own books but it’s wonky.

A way I tend to go about things is to not really worry about the writing itself to begin with? I use Evernote a lot, and if I have an idea I REALLY like and want to explore, I create a notebook for that and just… create notes. I have notes that are only a few bits of dialogue and that’s it. If you do your writing digitally, I highly recommend Evernote, it syncs up online and you never really lose anything.

If I have an idea for a story, I try and write it down so I’ll remember it later. (I tend to monologue a lot of dialogue aloud, which I then forget. It’s a nightmare.) Got something for a character backstory? Jot it down. Got a neat bit of dialogue? Some worldbuilding? Some picture you found online that fits the theme, or an actor whose face fits a character? Put it somewhere you can access it and remember it. Slowly build. It helps, trust me. My first step is getting the ideas OUT of my head, and into Evernote. (I have an absolutely stupid amount of things in Evernote that will never see completion.)

I also follow some writing blogs. @writeworld, @clevergirlhelps, @nimblesnotebook are some that I’ve found recently that have cool tips and inspiration.

When it comes down to the actual nitty gritty of writing… it helps to have a nice writing program. And fonts. FOOOOOONNNTS. Love of my life. I use LibreOffice for my own writing projects. Lovely bit of free software.

I have issues with revising. My brain doesnt work in first draft/second draft/so on. I constantly keep going back and tweaking my work and Im desperately trying to get out of that habit.

I’m really not sure what my writing style is, or how it comes together. I really don’t. A friend was gonna analyze Goblin Men and hopefully she comes up with some answers.

It really helps if you have someone you can bounce ideas off of. I have two IRL friends, and any time I get an idea for Goblin Men, I immediately tell them. And then they yell at me. A lot. Find someone who can either give you critiques of ideas, or just… yell all-caps encouragement. Have someone to rant to about all those wonderful concepts. And KEEP THAT NOTE SYSTEM. It will be your salvation when you really get dedicated to a writing project.

Try for things like NaNoWriMo. Just try and write a little bit every day. Just a few sentences. It’ll help.

Pro tip: don’t write ten thousand words in present tense and then decide to change it to past tense. You will Suffer.

If you’re really stuck getting the ideas into a bookish format, try making an outline. I tend to work in bullet point lists in Evernote. Just write down the ideas you have for a Thing and don’t even really worry about putting them in chronological order at first.

For the writing itself… if music helps you think, find some nice background music. Have a snack. Sleep. Sit your butt down and make yourself write. You don’t even have to start at the beginning, just write what you’ve got at the moment. Half the time when I’m writing Goblin Men, I start the chapter, then head to the middle, then staple it together like a Frankenstein abomination.

I’ll tell you this cuz I need to get myself to understand it: it doesn’t need to be absolutely perfect right away. Let it be kinda shitty. Let it stumble along as you figure out the tone you want. The writing will catch up, just put the story to words.

If you’ve got 20 bucks, I’ll point you towards ZenWriter. It’s a program that fills up your entire screen, and you can select a custom background and it plays soothing music, and you can make it so when you type, it makes an old typewriter noise. As you’re typing, the only thing you see are the words.

If you have trouble with distractions, that can be really helpful. I’ve found in the past that when using ZenWriter, once I get going, I don’t want to stop. It’s just me and the words.

Make little notes. Write down ANY cool idea you have, especially if you’re working on a big headworld or book. Watch cool speedpaints. Follow aesthetic blogs. Read people whose work you enjoy.

Ask people for advice and then watch them type out an excessively long reply because she gets super excited when people look to her for guidance because that’s literally never happened before ;)

Wow. That was long. Hope that helps! Feel free to ask more specific stuff, or just stuff in general!

answeringthetrain-deactivated20  asked:

I need some inspiration/advice about finishing a story. I've started thousands of stories, some of them quite good ones, but it's so hard to finish. I've only finished one novel, and I can't really say I finished it since it was just a first draft.

Hey, Lindsay!

Let’s sit around the campfire, because it’s story time c;

3 years ago I was a very different person. I wasn’t very happy with my body, or my job, or my life in general. I found myself in a place where I could either try to change or give up completely– not only with writing, but everything. The only thing that made me happy was writing, but I never finished anything, ever. I had a dozen half manuscripts and a handful of first chapters– but nothing else. I didn’t want to give up, it didn’t feel right. I realized I wasn’t the person I wanted to be– so I decided to change. I disappeared from the world for a few months. I let go of people who didn’t love me, or cared about me. I searched for my real self– and I decided I would finish a book for the first time.

How did i do it? I bit my lip, sat my ass down on the chair, and I wrote recklessly. I wrote without fear for the first time in my life. I told myself that I wanted to finish a story. I wanted to be an author. I didn’t want to ‘aspire’ to be a writer– I wanted to be a writer.

I wrote a book called 'Wonderful Emotions,’ a story of an ex-psychic soldier who attends group therapy with a bunch of monsters in order to prove that he is healthy enough to be a regular citizen. It was about 60K words long, and I wrote it in 14 days. I was on fire. When I finished it I kind of 'woke’ up– like someone who had ran away from home and realized they’d been running so fast they had made it across the country without knowing.

But I finished something. It was scary– but it was also liberating.

My advice?

  • Write recklessly. Don’t care what people will think of you. And don’t care if you think the writing is not good, you can always fix it later during the second draft.
  • Remember that this is a story that you, and only you, can tell.
  • Lastly, you may find this hard to believe, but someone out there is going to need your book to get through a hard time in their life. You may never meet them in person, but I can promise you that they will read your book– and find within the answers to their questions.

I know I did :)

As a final piece of advice, I have previously answered an ask about how to stay motivated on a story– and it’s seriously what I use to stay inspired and keep writing. I would recommend you give it a try c;

I hope this helps! If you (or any of the writerly cuties reading this) have any questions, please send them my way~ ♥︎

Keep Writing~

anonymous asked:

Does bpd affect ur motivation? Bc I have bpd but I'm so behind in my college work. Not even bc my moodswings get in the way... I just can't bring myself to do it, I have no motivation, no ambition, etc. Its stressing me out so much I hate this

I think BPD can definitely cause difficulties with motivation, for various reasons.  It may not be a core symptom, but I think this is definitely a potential side-effect of a few symptoms.

The four big things that I can think of that would affect motivation or have affected my own motivation personally have been:

  • Chronic feelings of emptiness: When you feel empty on a regular basis, it’s hard to get motivated about anything at all because most things feel pretty meaningless.  It’s also sometimes hard to find any ambition to work towards goals when this symptom is in play.
  • Dissociative episodes triggered by stress:  Staying motivated in periods of high stress can be very difficult if you’re prone to dissociation under stress, which a lot of people who have BPD do.  Even just consistent episodes of mild dissociation can really fuck up any motivation you may have had going for you on a particular day, or during a particular week.
  • Unstable identity It’s hard to get motivated when you don’t know who you are and what you want or need, or even what your basic interests are.  
  • Problems with executive dysfunction / cognitive problems:  While not technically a symptom of BPD, problems with executive function of the brain is something that a lot of people with BPD experience.  When you honestly can’t get your brain to move from one step of a task to another, it’s a huge impediment to actually getting things done.  It’s discouraging, and being discouraged can definitely have an negative effect on your motivation. (You might end up thinking “I know I won’t be able to get this done, so why bother trying in the first place?” but it’s important to remember that every little step you complete counts, even if the whole task doesn’t get completed.)

Mood-swings and splitting (on things like your hobbies or interests, for example) could also be factors at play, but I think these four above things, three of which are core symptoms of BPD, likely contribute to a lot of people who have BPD struggling to get motivated or to stay motivated.

Also I apologize for the fact that this ask has been sitting in my drafts for so long, I was having motivation problems of my own because I was feeling very discouraged.  Strong negative emotions and splitting on yourself may not directly result in poor motivation, but the discouragement that strong negative emotions and self-splitting results in definitely does.

Therefore, one of the best ways I’ve found to actually get motivated, stay motivated, or be motivated more often, is to capitalize on feeling good about myself.  When I’m feeling good about myself, I can get stuff done much better than when I’m feeling bad about myself–mostly because executive dysfunction and dissociation and emptiness affect me less. 

I used to just sit, relax, and enjoy my good days because they were few and far between, but now that I’ve been trying to practice the Accumulate Positive Experiences/Emotions component of the ABC Skill, I’ve made the decision to use a little bit of the time of every other good day or one day per weekend to do something I enjoy.  If you’re having trouble motivating yourself, it’s best to start off completely tasks that you find pleasant or enjoyable.  This might seem selfish at first because opening the blinds on a sunny day and changing the sheets on your bed may seem like an insignificant way to spend your time, but starting by doing little things like that will help train your brain to feel competent enough to tackle more complex tasks or activities in the future.  Here’s a List of Pleasant Events/Activities if you’re not sure where to start.

Further Reading: What is Dissociation?, Am I dissociating?, Is it possible to split on interests and hobbies?, What are cognition problems and affectivity problems?, More detailed description of cognition problems?, Examples of cognition problems?, More information on identity disturbance?, More information on “feeling empty”?I can’t cope with any other emotion than the feeling of emptiness?, What does it mean if I can’t concentrate on something I’m interested in?, Can BPD affect your interests?, ABC: Accumulate Positive Experiences/Emotions, How can I build positive experiences?, List of Pleasant Events 


Wherever Dex is, he’s wearing a thick woolen jumper, drinking hot chocolate, and looking out the window at the leaves knocked from the trees by the wind. The leaves make him think of Nursey, and he smiles a sad smile, because he misses his friend right bow. He misses all his friends, but especially Nursey.
Dex is drawn out of his thoughts by his phone ringing, and he smiles a real smile when he reads the caller ID.
“Hey Nursey. You don’t miss me, do you?” he answers.
“Nah, just ringing to tell you what plays we’re working on” Nursey says
“Sure Derek” Dex says with a laugh, and on the other end of the line, Nursey laughs too.

blondecrowns  asked:

okay i have to tell you how much i love 'codes', i honestly can't get it out of my head and it's been weeks since i read it??? in any case, i wondered - if you ever wrote another part (which i'll keep my fingers crossed for) - how do you imagine, or what do you imagine would've been the trigger for them rekindling their relationship in the first place? and emma/killian's reaction when they both see each other after so many years? i just - ugh i love it so much, your writing is so great (painful)

i’ve been postponing this ask since i got it because i needed to be on a somewhat calm emotional state to answer you (i clearly was going through some serious shit when i wrote codes, can you tell) because it was probably some of the saddest shit i have ever come up with in a long time

in the end i haven’t calmed at all re: emotional state so whatever man i was going through my drafts and found this and here you go my friend

(also thanks for reminding me about it bcs i should post it on ao3 or ffnet) 

this is a pre-scene for this 

Emma Swan didn’t believe in ghosts.

Not that that was her first predicament that morning - the only off one she had that week, mind you. Instead of lazing around in bed and spending it in her pajamas stuffing herself with cereal or muffins, she had gotten a call from her boyfriend to help him out. Since Graham had started working full hours at the animal shelter once the owner had left town, things had been a little bit hectic. Emma didn’t really mind, but then again, getting a frantic call at nine in the morning for her to please help him find a missing dog that had escaped earlier and wandering around town wasn’t exactly what she had expected for her off day.

At least she had managed to convince Ruby to help for a while, until she ditched her once she got a booty call from Vic. After blowing her a kiss and promising to share the deets with her later, her friend had driven away - too enthusiastically in Emma’s opinion, but then, who was she to judge her friend’s trysts in on-call rooms at the hospital - leaving her alone once more. She sighed and kept knocking from door to door, asking every owner and pedestrians about the missing dog.

She had almost given up hope when roughly at midday she spotted him. She tip toed until she was behind him, and with a breathless sound of relief she clasped the leash on its collar. “Gotcha.” The poor thing whined, rubbing its head against her legs. She petted him softly, bending her knees until she was eye to eye with him. “Come on, buddy, don’t be that way.”

“Is that how you pick dates up now, Swan? I’d have thought you’d honed your skills after so long.”

Emma Swan didn’t believe in ghosts, but this most certainly was the closest encounter with one she had ever had.

Keep reading


previously on tiberius

inspired by pixieknight10805’s post here

Warnings: implied emotional abuse

slight change from last installment included at the beginning of this one. :DDD

“SUGAR BEE!” Tony shouts, and launches himself out of his chair.

Rhodey’s grin breaks free. “Hey, Tones. How you doing?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony asks, eyes skimming over him. He looks good, isn’t favoring anything as far as Tony can tell, but it’s hard to tell with the jacket and the scarf. “Are you okay? How’d you find me?”

“Tracked your phone, you idiot, how else?” Rhodey says, grinning. “I’m fine.”

It’s been months, God, it’s so good to see him. “What are you doing here?” he asks again. He should probably let go of him but he really doesn’t want to.

“What, I can't—”

“You’re Tiberius?” Steve interrupts and Tony’s so shocked by the blatant rudeness of it, he has to turn to confirm it was him. Steve’s been nothing but unfailingly polite so far.

“No,” Tony says and hears Clint, Natasha, and Sam’s voices layered with his own and Rhodey’s scandalized, “What? No!”

The hard set of Steve’s brow softens and he turns faintly pink. “Oh. I— I’m sorry.”

“This is Rhodey,” Tony explains.

Rhodey hooks his arm around Tony’s neck and pulls him close. “I’m his best friend. Colonel James Rhodes of the United States Air Force. You are?”

There’s some serious posturing going on there which, strangely enough, Tony sees echoed back in the faces of Steve and his friends. They seem…suspicious. Well, except Sam, who looks like a kid on Christmas morning.

Steve blurts, “Steve—City Emergency Services,” still looking mortified. The others introduce themselves one at a time, polite but wary, at least until Sam’s up. He’s all lit up when he says, “I don’t know if you remember me—”

But recognition dawns on Rhodey’s face and he smiles, arm relaxing around Tony’s neck. “Oh my god, Wilson. Now that’s something else, how the hell are you?” He reaches across the table to shake Sam’s hand and Tony can’t help how he grins at the huge smile on Sam’s face.

“I’m good, I’m good, man. You’re obviously doing well, got promoted.”

Rhodey glances down, the way he always does when someone mentions his achievements. Tony squeezes his ass and Rhodey jerks, glares at him.

“We’re very proud,” Tony says and Rhodey’s mouth ticks upward.

“You got out?”

“I did,” Sam says agreeably. “C'mon, sit, sit! Have a few drinks with us!”

So they do. The bartender brings over fresh glasses and a couple more pitchers of beer.

“I’m working at the VA now,” Sam goes on.

“I heard about Riley,” Rhodey says, sobering. “I’m sorry.”

Sam’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You and me both, brother.”

“You never said what you’re doing in town,” Tony says to Rhodey when Sam starts to look suspiciously glassy-eyed.

Rhodey smiles at him, grips his shoulder and shakes him a little. “I am here to see you.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. I’ve got a few days before I have to be back in Washington.”

Tony grins and feels it go a little silly. “God, it’s good to see you.”

“Sorry,” Steve says, interrupting again, what is going on with him? “but did you say you found him using the GPS on his phone?”

Tony catches Rhodey’s eye because they both know what actually happened was Rhodey asked JARVIS, but, eh, semantics.

Rhodey says, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

A laugh bursts out of Tony. “Hey, Shortbread, come on, what’s with the third degree?”

On his other side, Steve’s mouth thins. “I guess I’m old fashioned; it just seems to me if Tony wanted you to know where he was, he’d tell you you if you asked.”

“Not if he wanted to surprise me,” Tony cuts in. Rhodey eyes Steve thoughtfully. The others—except Sam, beautiful beautiful Sam—don’t seem to be warming to Rhodey either, what the hell. That’s not acceptable. He sits forward. “Did you guys know Sam and Rhodey worked together on the EXO-7. But shh, that’s technically Top Secret, you didn’t hear it from me. Sorry Rhodey. Bruce, Jane, Rhodey went to MIT with me. He got a Masters in Aerospace Engineering, which really does not do justice to how brilliant he is, okay, but trust me, he is, and—”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, Tony, relax,” Rhodey says, hand gripping the juncture of his neck gently, but firmly and pulling him back. “It’s okay,” he says, smiling. “I’m giving your new friends a hard time. I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” Then he looks back at the others and adds, “And I’m sorry to all of you. People don’t always have the best intentions where Tony is concerned and I guess I’m a little bit overprotective.”

“A little bit, right,” Tony mutters under his breath and grins when Rhodey elbows him in the ribs.

He gets a lot of looks from the rest of the group, measuring and assessing, and he clears his throat. “Enough with the posturing now, hm? Let’s get back to drinking.”

“Hear hear,” Clint says and lifts his glass.

“To friends!” Thor calls and smiles start to spread around the table. Everyone lifts a glass.


whoops this is shorter than i thought