i remember when i first read that book

why dont we ever talk about the fact that adam mentions gansey has dated before?? what the hell were those dates like? who were these people?? we all joke about how nerdy he is but in canon he’s also goddamn CHARMING. i bet he was a perfect, charismatic date until he let his glendower obsession take over all conversations,, what if richard campbell gansey iii is a heartbreaker

2

I remember when I first started being in magazines, I had pretty thin skin. I was this nerd that read books and stayed home and didn’t go out. I had this big complex because I didn’t go to college. There was a whole era where I got linked to everybody. People that I had never met. I was like, “How? I’m home alone reading chapter 12 of a book.” But I remember being 18, and my first boyfriend said to me, “Unless you’re in the room, you don’t know if it’s true.” We were talking about gossip.

2

I remember when I first started being in magazines, I had pretty thin skin. I was this nerd that read books and stayed home and didn’t go out. I had this big complex because I didn’t go to college. There was a whole era where I got linked to everybody. People that I had never met. I was like, “How? I’m home alone reading chapter 12 of a book.”

Look, I’m going to be perfectly honest. Three maybe four years back, when I was 12 or 11, I didn’t support LGBTQ people. Hell I didn’t even know a LGBTQ community existed. I lived in a prejudiced country, where being gay or trans or bi wasn’t an open topic to be discussed. I thought everyone was straight or cis. “It is not suitable for your younger siblings to hear” my parents told me when i asked them what being gay meant. I was 10 or 11 at the time. I was in my pre teen years and I had no idea people who had different preferences even existed. I went to a school where you were called a fag whenever you did something different. When a boy wore a pink shirt, he was automatically a fag. I grew up thinking that those “fags” were bad people. I never actually knew what being gay meant. And when I learn what it was my first reaction was “that’s possible? That’s weird”. I am going to admit I was close minded at the time, but my point is that I was never taught that being gay is normal. No one in my whole fucking life told me that being gay is ok, that these people are not weird or ill. Even teachers were making fun of gay people.

When I was 13 Harry Potter became a big part of my life. I somehow found fanfictions. First I started reading Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Draco but a few months later, I remember reading a marauders fic and suddenly wolfstar appeared. At first I didn’t realise that Remus and Sirius were in fact in love in this fic. I thought they were just friends like they were supposed to be in the books. But then they started kissing and sharing beds and at that moment I realised that they weren’t just friends. For a few chapters I was like “ok this is weird but this fic is awesome so I’m just going to ignore the weird gay parts”, however I was slowly falling in love with the pairing. And suddenly I was looking through Pinterest looking for wolfstar pictures and headcanons. Then I slowly transitioned to drarry.

During this time I still didn’t know trans people existed. One day I was on YouTube for the majority of my day just watching medical documentaries when I spotted I video with a title “a boy stuck in a girl’s body” or something like that. I found that title intriguing so I clicked it and watched it. At first I didn’t really know what’s going on “so is that a boy or a girl?”. But when the documentary was reaching its end I was crying for the little boy. That poor thing had to deal with all this stuff only because he had the wrong body. That’s when I became really interested in trans people. I binge watched every documentary on YouTube about trans people.

So with this post I would like to apologise for my closemindness. Eventhough I never bullied anyone who was LGBTQ (I never even knew anyone) I know it still hurts when people think poorly of you for something you can’t control. Up to this day I don’t know if my parents support LGBTQ people. I never know if I’m going to be able to come out to them. I would like to thank my fandom for opening my eyes, because gosh, those fanfic and fanarts will be the end of me. Just So you know, I am really disappointed that I had this point of view once, but feeling bad will never make a better person for something that was already done. So hopefully you guys won’t kill me over this post and once more I apologise. This post is proving all the people, that once told me that reading fantasy won’t change me or make me smarter, wrong. Look where I am now. From a close minded person I became a part of the LGBTQ community

Ps- if you’re a close minded person, START READING FANFICTIONS AND GET A TUMBLR

I didn’t know I needed a miracle

But then I read Maggie Stiefvater’s book, and it all makes sense.

I have loved books since I first learned to read. I remember that time, in kindergarten, picking through the big books and feeling so very accomplished. And from there my love affair grew. Stories have always been my escape, even when I didn’t realize that’s what they were. I have always and will always love books for their “uniquely portable magic” and Steven King once pointed out.

And tonight, again, I am struck by just how potent this magic can be.

I did not know what to expect when I opened “All The Crooked Saints.” I knew only that I adore the way Maggie makes words feel new again. I am willing to embark upon an unknown journey with her because, so far, she has not lead me too far astray. (By that I mean she’s taken me to a helluva lot of strange places, but gently.) I opened this book hoping for another journey.

But…oh…I got so much more.

I have been struggling inside my head for such a very long time I do not know what it feels like not to struggle. I have taken myself for granted for such a very long time that I no longer believe in any of my worth or value. And, recently, I have been fighting to “fix” all of that. It is not easy to learn to love one’s self. When it has been taken as truth that I am worthless and wanting for so long, simply acknowledging the goodness I possess is not nearly enough to mean I believe it. It is a slow, painful, heartbreaking process.

And after a day of particular struggle, I found myself reading of miracles and happiness and I knew this book was meant for this moment.

Maggie Stiefvater, I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. And I don’t know why you write your books. But I do know that this book, in this moment of my life, has resonated in ways I didn’t know I needed. I think I can guess at how a writer can know the thoughts and struggles and feelings of others (because aren’t we all made of the same tangles, just in different knots?). But I want to let you know that I love this book and I have been loved by this book. Thank you for writing it. Thank you for sharing it. Thank you. @maggie-stiefvater

So this just happened....

I’m working and a delivery guy who tries to chat me up every time he arrives decides today is the day to get to know me better.

I’m monosyllabic towards him because I’m not into him and he’s getting desperate. My boss (thinking he’s helping me out), throws the guy a bone by asking me if I’ve read any good books lately. (My boss knows my love of books. I stick my tongue out at him when the delivery guy isn’t looking.)

Delivery guy: So you’re a reader! What’s your favorite quote from a book?

Me: (looking him directly in the eye for the first time). ’ ‘I love you’ I said and stabbed him.’

I wish I could describe the look on his face!! Best. Time. Ever. for my brain to remember a book quote!

There’s a lot to say about Jingo, and I wish I was in the right headspace to really write coherently, but I’ve been sitting here with this text post open for about half an hour trying different sentences and finding that none of them quite fit what I’m feeling.

There’s a lot of anger in this book. It’s hard to notice, sometimes, because it’s also an incredibly funny and ridiculous book. There are a lot of jokes! But some of those jokes come to a sharp and unexpected point. That scene with Detritus and the Riot Act is hilarious; it’s got Vimes at his most dry and sarcastic and it’s got Detritus methodically picking up a man and using him to hit a bunch of other men. But it’s also got that sharp moment when one of the men claims that Klatchians have killed people, and Vimes asks “who?” and the man falters and says “…everyone knows they’ve been killing people!” and that’s such a familiar sounding phrase that it pulls you up short.

And any conversation between Fred Colon and Nobby is going to be hilarious, and there is nothing funnier than watching Nobby quietly make a fool of Fred’s casual ignorant racism. He doesn’t even have to try hard! But then: “You know we’re better’n Klatchians. Otherwise what’s the point?

There’s so much of that in this book. Little moments, that betray the frustration and anger behind the entire plotline. When I first read it, I was thirteen, and didn’t notice most of it. But I distinctly remember reading for the first time that scene between Carrot and Goriff:

“We can tell which way the wind is blowing,” said Goriff calmly.
Carrot sniffed the salt air. “It’s blowing from Klatch,” he said.
“For you, perhaps,” said Goriff. 

I’ve never forgotten that. That was how I remembered Jingo after reading the entire series and going back again. There are others that hit me harder now (the “they are us” passage in particular) but this was the scene that telegraphed perfectly to me the bitterness and frustration in this conflict, in watching it, in living it.

And then Jingo gives us what we all want so badly, the whole time, watching this play out. Vimes puts his foot down. He charges in. He arrests the leaders of the opposing nations. He arrests the armies. He stops it, he ends it. And there’s still frustration, there has to be, there’s no way everything can get better overnight. But he saw how stupid the whole thing was and he made it stop. There’s anger in that, too, because it’s what the angry part of us watching the conflict wants to have happen. We want to arrest the armies. We want to arrest Lord Rust and Prince Cadram and everybody like them. We want to end it, and we get to do that alongside Vimes. If only we didn’t have to put the book down afterwards.

I need to make some space for my own anger at the end of this tirade here. Reading the tags on some of these posts, a huge number of them echo the same core sentiment: “relevant.” And it is. It’s so relevant. And I’m so angry. Because it shouldn’t be. We shouldn’t still be here, watching the pebbles bounce. We shouldn’t feel an aching familiarity in the words of a bigot declaring that “everyone knows” something completely made-up, or in a family leaving their home because the people around them are claiming it doesn’t belong to them. Why are we still here. Why is this still happening. Why is this still relevant.

I’m extremely glad to have this book, as an excellent story and excellent social commentary, to be relevant in this time. But I still wish that it wasn’t.

Originally posted by myheroacademiadeku

Can I be honest here? When I first saw this scene, I was honestly worried for a second that All Might would be a untouchable, a bit arrogant and overly confident guy. Just for a split-second, I thought “Oh no, he’s gonna be one of those untouchable hero-idols again who will only show up in the story whenever there’s a really big fight that the protagonist can’t handle”.

Why I thought that – perhaps because I felt something about his behavior was faked. Perhaps because he just picked up the nearest piece of paper he could find and wrote down his autograph without even being asked for it, probably thinking that everyone would love to have his autograph, anyway.

But gosh, was I wrong. In the mere span of a few minutes, all those worries were shut down.

Untouchable? Invincible? No. All Might is shown to be bleeding and hiding behind a strong façade only a bit later.

Originally posted by kaeveeoh

 

 

Him not showing up in the series apart from important fights? Ha! Since the manga started, All Might has been at Izuku’s side as often as possible. I even miss him when he isn’t there, because I’m just so used to him being close to Izuku (even if it’s just watching from around the corner like a worried dad)

 

Originally posted by kizn7iver

And then, when I rewatched BNHA, I noticed this little scene here:

All Might didn’t just pick the notebook up and write his autograph into it. He really read it first. The book had fallen open during the fight with slime guy, if I remember correctly. He probably caught sight of the sketches of heroes Izuku had done and took a look into it.

He noticed how detailed Izuku’s notes where. He took into consideration how much time the boy had spent gathering all those information about the heroes, and how much love had went into each detail. Knowing Izuku, that fanboy probably even wrote down his thoughts near the notes, little bits and pieces of excited rambling and theories.

All Might didn’t write his autograph into the notebook because he egoistically assumed that it would be what the boy wanted.

He wrote the autograph into the notebook because, after seeing Izuku’s addiction to heroes, his love for everything concerning it, he knew how much this autograph would mean for the boy.

Well done, Horikoshi. You managed to literally pulverize all the clichés concerning shounen-mentors and designed one of the most lovable, dorkiest yet most awesome characters I’ve ever seen. Not to mention what a heartwarming relationship between mentor and student was created here.

Also, what kind of dorky autograph is this, you drew your own eyebrows and eye-shadows under it you utter DORK

i just made this announcement over on twitter, but like, let’s be real, i’ve been on this horrible blue hell site since i was 16 - and i’m turning 24 on sunday, so that’s essentially a third of my life, yikes - and you guys are wonderful and i love you and you deserve to hear it here first. so.

as most of you know, i finished my first manuscript earlier this year, and i’ve been reservedly liveblogging the absurdly nerve-wracking process of querying agents and throwing my novel out to the wolves. 

and i’m so happy to finally be able to tell you that i’ve accepted an offer of literary representation from brooks sherman of janklow & nesbit associates.

i first became aware of brooks a couple of years ago when my best friend lena, who was loyally and devotedly beta-reading one of my early drafts, suggested i check out becky albertalli’s “simon vs. the homo sapiens agenda.” she thought simon was an exemplary gay ya romance, exactly the kind of thing i was hoping to do. and she was right: simon instantly became one of my favourite books, and becky became one of my favourite authors. i pledged to myself that when i finally worked up the nerve to start talking to agents, i would talk to the guy who helped make simon happen.

but it took a long time. like, a long time. i started writing “teenage victory song” - the name of my novel, a contemporary gay YA love story, hopefully coming soon to a bookstore near you! - back in 2013. specifically, during an 11:30 PM gchat with grace on wednesday, december 11, 2013, which i have archived for historical preservation. so grace is getting the dedication when this thing goes out, naturally. but, yeah, i started writing it in 2013, and only just finished it this spring, and only with the help of some truly incredible people and loyal friends and family - way too many to name here, but you know who you are, and thank you. i love you. if i hadn’t had your love and your support to battle the little grey cloud of depression and trauma and persistent economic instability that hangs over me 24/7, i’d never have gotten this far. writing this book, and keeping myself mentally healthy and happy enough to finish it, is the hardest thing i’ve ever had to do. 

i also need to thank benjamin alire saenz, andre alexis, dennis bock, anne michaels, and mallory ortberg for reading various permutations of this manuscript and believing in it and giving me their writerly advice on it. i love all y’all. and, of course, major, major thanks to the lambda literary association, who do so much incredible work for so many lgbt authors, and to whom i will be forever in debt.

i just don’t have words for the fact that brooks read my manuscript and said yes, that he said wow, that he believes in me and in what i’m trying to do with my writing. he represents so many authors whose work i’ve been continually blown away by, and it is patently ridiculous and surreal that i get to stand next to them now? i’ve already mentioned becky albertalli, whose work has done so much to humanize young lgbt people and to normalize gay love for a mainstream audience. or adam silvera, who just put queer boys of colour on the new york times bestsellers list with “they both die at the end,” which i am presently reading and crying over and having my internal organs ripped out by. and last, but definitely not fucking least, angie thomas, who wrote “the hate u give,” very possibly the most important young adult novel of the last twenty years, a heartbreaking and compassionate and warmly funny complete and total masterwork that i inhaled in less than two days. like, i really don’t. have words. these are people who have been heroes of mine for so long. i just started actually crying so i’m going to have to wrap this up lmao.

i grew up in an intensely homophobic and conservative christian household, and when i was probably eleven or twelve i somehow came into possession of a copy of “a great and terrible beauty” by libba bray. i don’t remember anything about it except that it had a subplot involving two girls who kissed each other on the mouth, and when they kissed each other on the mouth, i was so viscerally horrified that i started bawling, and i stood up, walked upstairs to the garbage disposal, and tore the book apart with my bare hands. watched the pages filter down into the garbage. and i don’t, like. i don’t like to damage books. i don’t even fold corners because i don’t like to crease the pages. i still remember it all these years later because my first reaction upon recognizing myself in that kiss was to literally destroy it. and i had to keep that part of myself buried for so many years. reading lgbt ya and fanfiction was some of the only escape i had. i wasn’t able to come out until i was eighteen years old, and when i did, it ultimately meant becoming estranged from my mother forever.

i have so much love and tenderness and compassion for all those previous, wounded versions of me, who went through so much, who hated themselves so much, who spent so much of their teens and early twenties being depressed and closeted and suicidal and dreaming of the day when they might get to be an author. you fucking did it, buddy. i love you so much and i am so proud of everything you did to survive and keep creating.

in conclusion,

Dear Winged Demon,

My storytelling style/ subject matter is, like all writers, the hodgepodge end result of consumed media, internalized facts, my specific upbringing, my current lifestyle, and general aesthetic preferences. I could (and have) list fiction that clearly belongs in the pedigree of my writing, but such answers will always be incredibly incomplete — like an alien asking what Earth is like and being provided a photo of a ferret. The ferret’s true, but it doesn’t really prepare you for the billions of other truths.

Instead I’m going to answer this time with a nonfiction book that influenced my writing hugely: Donald Maass’s THE CAREER NOVELIST. I read it long before I was published, back when I was a teen, when I also voraciously downed copies of Writers Digest and read each year’s WRITERS MARKETs from cover to cover. THE CAREER NOVELIST was one of the first (and only) books I read that treated art as a business without implying that such an attitude was a compromise or a betrayal of what art stood for. Moreover, it didn’t wring its hands or whine about how difficult it was to get published and stay published. Maass merely wrote about what he felt it took to translate your artistic vision into something salable, and what it took to keep being salable. He wasn’t emotional about it. It was just business.

I loved it.

I never needed to be told it would be easy to be a career novelist (in fact it would have put me off). I never even really needed to be told it would possible; there were novels in stores, of course it was possible, someone was obviously writing them and getting paid for it. I didn’t need to be told it was going to be okay and I didn’t need someone to tell me how to protect my artistic baby when it went out in the world.

I simply wanted to know how to make a career out of painting with words and making stories. I didn’t need to be told it was okay to be a writer and not to give up. That wasn’t in danger. What I wanted was hard-headed business advice about selling stuff that just happened to be soft-hearted art. This book was the first one I’d read that felt like it hit that mark

To this day, I remember a piece of advice I read in this book, years and years before I got published: don’t quit your day job until you have five books in print, no matter how good that first deal might seem. Maass urged new writers to remember that publishing is peaks and valleys — don’t fly too close to the sun. No matter what level you’re at in any creative profession, it’s wise advice.

THE CAREER NOVELIST is quite old by now and I haven’t read it in a long time, so I’m not sure how well the details hold up to publishing nowadays — it was written, for instance, long before eBooks or social media became important. But I fondly keep copy of it on my shelf. A lot of pieces joined together to make my career what it is today, but that is one of the biggest and oldest of them.

urs,

Stiefvater

anonymous asked:

I'm not usually one for angst, but I just had a thought and maybe you can give your insight on it too. What if Seven & MC both died in [insert some sort of accident here] and entrusted their child(ren) to Saeran? How do you think that would go? qq thank youuuuu

(◞‸◟;) so sad but I will write!


  • The news of the car accident was jarring for Saeran
  • But his new title of legal guardian to his niece, his brother and sister-in-laws 6 year old daughter, was overwhelming to say the least
  • He remembered them asking if they could put him down in the will and he just shrugged it off as something you did, he never actually thought anything would come of it
  • The first day was the hardest
  • She was quiet
  • More quiet than she normally was
  • He could tell that she was sad and scared
  • In her little hands she had been clutching a picture of her with her parents on her 6th birthday 
  • His place wasn’t exactly set up for kids
  • He hadn’t even been able to grab most of her stuff or her bed from the old house
  • So he placed some blankets and a pillow on the couch for her
    • “Are you…hungry?” he asked
  • Though she still didn’t make eye contact with anything but the floor, she shook her head ‘no’
  • And Saeran sighed in relief
  • As he was staring into his empty cabinets at a few cans and an old box of crackers
  • A grocery store trip would be a must the next day
  • He had Yoosung watch her during the afternoon so he could go out
  • He figured it would be too much for her to go home and see everything so soon
  • It was sad to see all of the things scattered around the apartment
  • Saeyoung’s half-finished toy projects still lay on his work bench
  • The calendar hanging on the wall with appointments that will never be made
  • Spoiled food in the fridge
  • He lingered in the hall to look at photos
  • There were the wedding ones
  •  Saeyoung hugging Saeran during the reception, a huge grin on his face as always 
  • And pictures from the birth of his niece
  • He had never seen Saeyoung so happy
  • Saeran remembered holding her small body for the first time in the hospital
    • “She’s…cute,” he said with a half smile
  • He threw some toys that looked promising in a bag and loaded her bed up
  • Taking one last look at the place before leaving
  • He would have to figure out what to do with everything eventually, but for now he’d focus on his niece
  • His computer room was cleaned out and he moved her bed into there
    • “You can decorate or whatever…I tried to grab what I thought you would want but I can always go back,” he placed the bag next to her bed
  • She ran to the bag and began rummaging through it, throwing out a few things until she found what she wanted
  • A cat stuffed animal she’s had since she was an infant
  • She pressed the paw and Saeyoung’s voice came singing through
  • He had recorded both of their voices singing lullabies and saying sweet things to her
    • Mommy and daddy love you so much
  • She clutched the cat and began to cry
  • Oh shit, she’s crying…
  • Saeran froze for a moment not knowing what to do
  • He knelt down next to her and placed a hand on her back
    • “It’s okay to be sad…and it’s okay to cry,” he said softly
  • Not the best words but it was all he could think to say
  • He made a mediocre meal for dinner and she picked at it a lot without eating much
  • Saeran didn’t blame her, but he knew his cooking would improve the more he did it
  • Which, he guessed, would be just about every day now that she was there…
  • He cleaned up the plate’s and bowls from the table
    • “Is this normally when you go to bed?” he really was lost
  • She nodded and grabbed her kitty plush to get ready for bed
  • He could hear the sound clips from the cat going off intermittently as he washed the dishes
  • When he finished and her light was still on he peered in from the doorway to see her sitting in the bed crying softly
    • “Do you need something? To like…talk or something?”
  • She shook her head
    • “Well…mom and dad would…read to me,” she said through whimpers
  • Right, of course
    • “I’ll be right back,” he said
  • When he returned he had a book in one hand and was dragging his computer chair in the other
  • Sitting next to the bed he showed her the cover
    • “S-” he choked for a second, “your dad used to read this to me when we were your age,” he opened it up
    • “Dad did?” she wiped her eyes and seemed interested for the first time since she arrived
    • “Yeah, he did. He always made sure to explain things to me, and do voices,” Saeran smiled remembering it
    • “Dad did that for me, too,” she smiled
    • “I’m not your dad…but I can try my best to read it like he would.”
  • He closed the book and stood up
    • “Do you like ice cream?” he asked her
    • “I do”
    • “Stories are always better with ice cream, I’ll go get some.”
  • He had seen her smile finally
  • Perhaps he was getting somewhere
    • “Ice cream? In bed? Is that okay?” she asked
  • Saeran shrugged
    • “I think for tonight it’s okay.”
A Single Voice Above The Noise

Anyone ask for another soulmate AU? No? Well, have one anyway. In this one soulmates share a telepathic link.

Summary: Stan doesn’t have a soulmate. That is fine. He doesn’t need one. Or so he thought until he suddenly hears a voice in his head that is not his own

Meanwhile Richie and Eddie can’t wait to meet each other and just have to make do with what they’ve got

Word Count: 17692 (I know it got long)

Pairing: Stan/Bill & Richie/Eddie

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12393633


Some people heard voices in their head and Stan had a hard time understanding how these people were not on medication or in therapy. No… hearing voices was considered a good thing, desirable. Well, voices, plural, might not be. But hearing your soulmate talking to you was normal. At least that’s what people said, Stan had never experience it and he was honestly pretty glad about that. Sometimes he wondered if he should try it, but the day he gave in and tried to communicate telepathically with someone who probably wasn’t even real, he’d lose all self-respect. It’s not that Stan didn’t believe in soulmates, and he somehow also believed in the voices thing, because his friend Eddie heard a voice, and he didn’t think Eddie was crazy. But Stan didn’t believe that hearing a voice would be good for him and he didn’t believe there was a soulmate for him. That’s normal too, not everyone had one.


He was in his mid-twenties, if he had a soulmate, he’d have heard him by now, right? Eddie said, he’s heard the voice for years now. Stan didn’t know how he dealt with it, because there’s no rules to the voices and everything needed to have rules, everything needed to follow a certain path. So no, Stan was not envious of the people hearing voices. He was quite happy that he didn’t, but if everyone could stop pitying him every time he said so, that would be great.


Sweetcheeks!


I’ve told you not to call me that.


You never like any of my names for you.


Because they’re awful!


If I knew your name, I could personalize them for you.


Richie immediately regretted saying that, he knew what was going to happen next and sure…


My name is… And then silence.


Richie groaned. He had wanted to tell him about band practice, but now his soulmate was gone. This always happened when either of them tried to be a bit more specific. At first, he had thought his soulmate was a fucking tease, always shutting up when they tried to arrange a meeting or whatever.

Keep reading

Point of contact

Originally posted by miss-rosalie-hale

Request: Hi, can you do a twilight imagine where the reader is new to town and one day she’s at the beach and Paul sees her and he imprints on her but she’s really shy and just the opposite of him so every time he tries to talk to her she makes an excuse to leave and you can choose how it ends. Thank you!
Words: 1,132
For: @itssssxxlillian

Paul x reader
A/N: I will never be sorry for slipping books that I like into imagines.



There he was again. Paul, the ridiculously muscled cheeky faced boy from La Push beach, who been following you around since that first meeting - or rather it felt that way.
Trying to ignore your face flushing, you hid your face back into your book and hoped that he and his friends, who seemed more like a gang really, wouldn’t notice you sat at the back of cafe with your book and a drink. You tried to focus on the lines of your book but you found your eyes moving without taking anything in.
Why the hell was your heart beating so fast?

It wasn’t like you’d even spoken to him for more than ten minutes but how could you not get flustered while talking to a guy with a real life Greek God bod? Never mind the fact that you tripped over your tongue in normal conversation.

Your hopes of remaining hidden didn’t last too long when you heard his naturally loud voice tell his friends to ‘stay out of trouble I’m going to say to Y/N’ and not a moment later he was sliding into the opposite side of your booth, his flirty grin already firmly in place.
“Hey Y/N, how’s it going?” He asked, his voice brimming with interest. Did he use this voice for everyone?
“Good thanks, how’re you?” You whispered from behind your book shield. If he thought you were being rude, his smile didn’t falter.
“All the better for seeing you.” He answered smoothly like his voice didn’t make your face burn even hotter. He reached over the table to nudge your book up so that he could read the title but the sudden contact made you jump and drop with a bang on to the table.

“I’ve got to go, nice to see you.” You squeaked, picking your bag up from the seat and high tailing it out of there. Paul tried to catch your wrist, to ask for your number or apologise if he was coming on too strong but you were gone, replaced almost instantly by Jared and Embry.
“So she took one look at your face and ran off, bummer dude.” Embry feigned sympathy and bit into his sandwich.
“We always knew that there was going to be that risk.” Jared laughed.
“You two don’t know shit, I’ll get her to talk to me.” Paul grumbled and rubbed his hair with one large hand hoping that the familiar action would distract him from his hurt pride.
Jared thought Paul was coming on too strong, he’d spent months having to build up his relationship with Kim and she’d fancied him something rotten. He tried to implore his friend, “Face it Paul she’s ran away from you what five times now?”
“I make it six.” Embry corrected through a mouthful of food.

“But now I have a reason for her to talk to me.” Paul said triumphantly as he leaned back into his chair.
“Go on, spare us the grand reveal. What’s your plan?” Jared asked. Paul reached over the table and picked up the book that you’d left on the table in your haste. Now he had his point of contact.



Paul found you somewhere you couldn’t escape, at your part time job in the small diner in town. You could already feel the heat threatening your completion when you saw him sat to the counter, turning his stool side to side and waving to you. You stepped over and offered him a shaky but friendly smile, “Good afternoon, what can I get you?”
“It’s more what can I get you.” He told you, the overly flirtatious nature of his tone had dropped since the last time you spoke to him and now he spoke slowly and quietly as though he was afraid he may scare you away.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” You managed not to stumble over your words but had been worrying the edge of your work shirt as you spoke and had to remind yourself that you were a work and Paul, no matter how attractive, was a customer. You forced yourself to give him eye contact and were rewarded with his dimpled smile.
He pulled his hidden hand from under the table and put your book on the counter top. You could have jumped for joy when you saw it and in a rush of gratitude you put both of your hands over his large warm one, “Thank you so much!”
All at once you remembered yourself and went to pull your hand away, your usual blush back in place. Paul lightly caught one of your hands and held it softly, with enough space that you could pull away from him if you wanted too, you didn’t.

“Small confession, I may have read the first couple of chapters before I brought it back so that I’d have something to talk to you about. Ya know, because you keep running away from me.” He joked but despite the embarrassment you felt incredibly touched.
“Sorry, I’m not always great with new people.” You explained quietly and glanced around quickly to make sure that no one as waiting to be served and thankfully there wasn’t.
“Neither am I, but I’m willing to try to get used to each other.” His flirty smirk made a comeback.

You bit your lip, “I would like that. Did you really read some of my book so that we could talk about it?”
Paul nodded, “Yeah, I liked the talking skeleton, he’s a badass.”
“He just gets sassier, I’ve got the whole series. Derek Landry is a genius.” You gushed over the Skullduggery Pleasant series. Paul ran his thumb over the back of your hand, enjoying the, albeit brief, contact.
Your boss coming into the diner made you pull your hand from Paul’s and straighten your back. Paul clicked on quickly when you pulled your notepad from your back pocket and asked him, “So, what can I get you?”
“A burger and coke please. Oh, and your number.” He gave you a cheeky wink on the side that your boss wouldn’t see and you willed your cheeks to stay calm this time.
“Right away Sir.” You gave him a bright smile which was received and reciprocated with earnest.

10

SKETCHY BEHAVIORS | Heather Benjamin (RH)

Through her dense and detailed packed line drawings to her more focused ink brush pieces, Rhode Island based artist Heather Benjamin’s work is visceral, cathartic, and autobiographical. It offers a completely unapologetic and unflinching look into an artists’ own struggles with life, body image, self confidence, and sexuality.  We find her and her art to be inspirational, honest and badass.

We recently ran into Heather at her booth at the LA Art Book Fair and caught up with her a few months later to ask about her art, her experiences at RISD, her influences, and her thoughts about her work and her life. 

Photographs courtesy of the artist.

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I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.
—  Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince
Some thoughts...

Now that I’ve processed everything, re-read my favourite passages and cried a billion times I’ve finally been able to put my favourite moments from the film and my favourite differences from the book into a coherent list instead of an endless, emotional ramble.

It’s quite a lot… 

1. Timothée IS Elio. It’s been said a thousand times before but Elio is alive in this film and I truly, for the first time ever, felt like I was actually watching the boy I’ve been reading about right in front of my eyes. It’s so easy to see why Oliver falls in love with him because Timothée does such a good job of pulling every bit of Elio’s personality, his sensuality, his sexuality and giving it to us full-force throughout every moment he’s on screen. He truly shines and I was blown away, I’m still not over his performance.

2. It’s a stunning film. The cinematography is outstanding. Every shot could be a painting.

3. The resolution of Marzia’s story. It was everything I wanted and if, like me, you felt it was missing from the book - the film does a great job in very little time of resolving this.

4. Mr and Mrs Perlman. I don’t have to say any more. They’re brilliant… and the choice to give Mrs Perlman some of Vimini’s lines made me so, so happy.

(Under a cut because it’s going to get a bit spoilery…)

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Dirty talk? Tree Bros Fic

Connor pulled the door shut behind him and shifted the grocery bag on his arm. He turned to head towards the kitchen and made eye contact with Zoe, sitting on the couch watching T.V.

“Oh. Uh hey I thought you had um…”

“Yeah no. Jazz band practice got canceled at the last minute today.”

“Okay.”

Connor continued towards the kitchen.

“What’s that?”

“Uh bread. We’re out.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No prob.” He called over his shoulder as he put the bread away, balling up the plastic bag and tossing it in the recycling bin.

He hesitated at the kitchen threshold. He and Zoe had sorta been tiptoeing on eggshells around each other as of late. Things had been better between them but there was still a definite tension. Finally Connor pulled himself from the threshold and ploped himself down on the couch next to Zoe, wincing at the way she flinched slightly.

“So what’re we watching?”

“Series of Unfortunate Events. The Netflix show not the movie. I’ve been meaning to get into it.”

“Cool.”

Zoe was about halfway into the first episode when Connor joined her. They were both enjoying it though Connor was asking her a lot of questions.

“Will you shut up and just watch!” She snapped.

“Sorry! I never read the books. I just know you were obsessed with them.” Connor drawled.

“I’m surprised you remember that.” Zoe commented. It has been a while since she had thought about her younger years.

“How could I not? You carried one everywhere you went.” Connor chuckled.

About a quarter way through “The Wide Window” Zoe caught Connor on his phone tapping away.

“Quit texting your boyfriend and pay attention! Maybe then you won’t ask me so many questions.” She smirked, tossing popcorn at him.

“Shut up! Evan’s probably coming over tonight so…yeah…”

Suddenly Zoe was struck with a definitely marvelous idea.

“You should totally prank call him! Like talk all sexy to him over the phone!”

Connor threw her a disgusted look as a blush rose to his cheeks. “Fuck no! First of all he doesn’t even like talking on the phone and second-”

“Come on ya pussy! Do it! I dare you!”

“Fuck off!”

“Come onnnnnn!” Zoe threw her arms around his neck and pouted up at him, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

Connor hesitated. This had been going relatively well. He didn’t want this devolving into another fight.

“Uggggh! Fuck! Fine!” He growled and reluctantly began typing out Evan’s number into the phone app for the first time. Zoe grinned and nuzzled him to which she was promptly shrugged off.

“Put it on speaker!” Zoe urged and Connor reluctantly obeyed. He tensed as it rang. What was he even going to say? “Shit. How am I even gonna do this?!”

“Just talk dirty! It’s gonna be great!” Zoe giggled.

The moment he heard the click of the phone being picked up Connor spoke up

“H-HEY! Hey babe! I’ve uh…I’ve been thinking about you all day. Can’t wait for you to get over here. You…you hot little thing. Can’t wait to get my hands on you…uh-”

“Um…Connor? I-If you’re looking for Evan I-”

“HEIDI?!”

“H-hello dear.”

Click!

Zoe was clutching her stomach and laughing hysterically. Connor, enraged, shoved her off of the couch.

“Fuck you! I hate you so much!”

He jumped off of the couch and ran toward the stairs. “Connor c'mon! I’m sorry, okay?!”

Connor ignored her, stomped up the stairs and slammed the door behind him. Great just great! Now he had freaked out Mrs. Hansen and she probably hated him and would never let him see Evan again and it was all Zoe’s fault! He flopped back on his bed, buried his hands in hair and screamed in frustration.

He was so embarrassed he couldn’t even bring himself to answer the door when Evan came over. Zoe came to the door and was confronted with a very confused and embarrassed looking Evan. “Oh um hi Zoe I uh-”

“It was me alright!”

“Uh what?”

“I dared Connor to say all that stuff to you, he didn’t know your mom was gonna pick up the phone. It’s my fault, alright!? Just…just go talk to him okay?! He’s upstairs sulking in his room right now.”

“Ummm ok.”

Evan awkwardly shuffled past her and up the stairs. He hesitantly knocked on the door. “Uh hi C-Connor…I’m here.”

The door swung open and Connor stood there, not meeting his eyes. “Come to tell me your mom wants you to stay away from me?”

“I d-don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” He said as he followed Connor to sit down on the bed.

“How do ya figure?” He asked.

“…W-well first of all because my mom loves you. Second b-because we had a loooooong talk about this before I c-came over. And third…she gave me these.”

Evan who was now very red in the face reached in his pocket and pulled out-

Yup. Those were condoms.

Now it was Connor’s turn to burst out laughing.

anonymous asked:

What's your favorite book? :)

Pride and Prejudice 

The last time I told that to a guy he got super judgey with me about it but then his favorite turned out to be the novelization of a video game (Halo I think). A good match we were not. 

I was at a lecture awhile back where the professor talked about how Jane Austen is one of the few literary authors that is still read for pleasure and how that hurts her in a lot of literary circles. He taught a Jane Austen course at a university and other professors would make fun of his class to their students because they were teaching “real literature” while he was teaching “chick lit”. He also talked about her upswing in popularity in the mid to late 90′s and how there has been a subsequent backlash where people are less willing to claim that they like her. And it was only when he said that that I realized I had done similar to myself. I love Jane Austen but I have been less proud to admit that in recent years. 

Perhaps I wanted my favorite book to be something less cliche and well-known and “girly”? I mean I love The Things They Carried or Catch-22 or Ender’s Game for their portrayal of military life that has resonated with me on a deeper level throughout the years. I adore Ray Bradbury’s The Illustrated Man or Isaac Asimov’s Azazel both are full of these amazing, thought-provoking, short stories that have continued to impact me decades after I read them. Great Expectations will always be dear to my heart for the things it taught me about self-acceptance, the nature of wealth, and the importance of true relationships (all things I don’t always see when I try to reread it). Lord of the Rings, Captain’s Courageous, Dune, The Alchemist, Jane Eyre, Count of Monte Cristo, are all great books that I could call my favorite that would make me sound “cooler” I guess? But they aren’t my favorite. 

Pride and Prejudice is a novel I keep coming back to every couple of years. I check in with the characters and with myself. When I first read it I remember being as shocked as Elizabeth at Darcy’s proposal and Wickham’s perfidy and I rolled around in the angst of the unrequited feelings and the misunderstandings. This was a love story for the ages! But then I came to it again in college and found myself nodding along to Charlotte Lucas and reveling in the examination of matrimony as a strategic life choice and the theme of equal and unequal marriage. And what exactly changed Elizabeth’s feelings anyway? I have, at various times, hated, loved and felt indifferent toward Lydia. My concept of Darcy has evolved as my concept of myself and my own introversion has become clearer. In short every time I read Pride and Prejudice I not only enjoy the story but somehow find an entirely new angle from which to enjoy it. And it’s that continued presence and importance in my life that makes it my favorite. 


Ask Me My Favs