Summary:“The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.” You think, after being alive for this long and leading an team of superheroes, Steve Rogers would’ve perfected his communication skills, but apparently, when it comes to women, he just likes to assume, and that is never a good thing.
A/N: Last part before the epilogue! I hope I don’t frustrate you guys too much HAHA.
Tuesday 12th September: I am taking my nan out for coffee this morning for the last time before I move out at the end of the week. This still doesn’t quite feel real and I had a bit of a wobble about, well, everything last night, but I am here, I am fighting and I am not giving up.
Y'all I just had a thought. Remember when Jeremy talked about how Lance “dies” and it was apparently supposed to come out in this season but I guess he must’ve mixed something up since in one interview (I don’t remember which one but if I can find it I’ll link it) someone had mentioned that they’ve already made more of the show than we think so it’s possible he was thinking too far ahead when he mentioned it.
Anyways, I was thinking, after how much Keith and Lance’s dynamic developed this season, whenever this Lance dying scene happens it’s going to be klangsty af and I’m ready
She was already asleep when he entered the room, causing him to shake his head with a small smile. Leave it to Candy to fall asleep in the same amount of time it took him to shower. He really should have expected it as she was fairly tired when they reached his apartment after a long date. It was a miracle he was able to get her into the apartment at all before she fell asleep.
At least she had time to change, he noted as he spotted the white tank top and sweat shorts – a standard, comfortable pair of clothes she kept at his apartment for nights such as this. He yawned and sluggishly headed for the bed, the excitement and energy he had previously were now long gone.
He had just began to climb into bed when Candy stirred. Her eyes were still closed peacefully from what he could see as she still (for the most part) had her back to him.
“Careful,” Candy’s voice was soft and barely even half-awake, “Watch out for White.”
He glanced down. Sure enough, the white bundle of fur was fast asleep against Candy’s back, but was stretched out across a relatively good portion of Nathaniel’s side of bed.
“I thought you were asleep,” he commented with a yawn as he very carefully plucked White up from the bed and moved her to where she was supposed to be sleeping – the small bunch of old blankets that were an impromptu cat bed.
“I was,” Candy muttered, her voice muffled as she buried her face into the pillow, “But it’s hard to sleep when I’m alone.”
Nathaniel’s expression softened as he finally got into his spot beside her in the bed. The blankets barely covered them – partly because it was a tad too warm for them and partly because White had claimed a majority of the blanket for her cat bed. He tenderly wrapped his arms around her as he snuggled into her back, burying his face into the nape of her neck.
“You’re never alone.”
Everyone had a particular after-sex routine they followed. Some took showers. Some napped. Some ate. But in their case, Castiel felt as if there was no special after-sex routine. It was always different. Sometimes, Candy wanted to cuddle, other time she wanted her space. There were a few times that one of them would even just get up, get dressed, and leave (usually because something came up and they needed to leave immediately – there were never hurt feelings when that happened). Usually, one or both of them would jump in the shower before going to the kitchen for a snack.
But he never had never seen her like this. She had never wanted to just stop right before the actual sex started. She was tired. Her head hurt. She didn’t feel like it. She explained it carefully to him, apologizing for the sudden lack of sex drive, as if he would get mad at her. He wasn’t. While sex was nice and he was looking forward to it, he was okay with whatever she wanted to do. Just being with her was enough for him.
Candy’s head rested tenderly on his shoulder, her hands resting on his chest. He was still shirtless, having planned on their little ‘sleepover’ to be a bit more active, and even she was only half-dressed with a simple white sports bra and a pair of his boxers. He wasn’t sure when she had gotten hold of his underwear, but it suited her.
He wrapped an arm around her, his hand resting on her shoulder as he brought her close to him. His eyes glanced down at her. She was barely even awake, her chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths. A protective, loving feeling rose in his gut. The strong, powerful emotion to protect her from everything. That he loved her too much to ever let anything happen to her.
He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, I’ll never let you go.
Lysander (Minor Episode 31 spoilers)
Lysander’s eyes were droopy, sad. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. He couldn’t help the growing worry in his chest when Candy slept next to him in the midst of what he knew was a bad dream. She tossed and turned, her feet kicking slightly as if she were running. Her eyes were shut too tight, a light sweat gathered on her brow, and he could hear her frantic breaths over the small fan they had in the room.
Candy never talked about whatever she dreamed about. She usually claimed to forget whatever it was the next morning. Other times she was more honest about just not wanting to talk about it. He respected that, even if it did nothing but make his worry for her grow.
But what hurt the most was that he could guess what the subject of her nightmares was. She had talked in her sleep in the past and a few times, she slipped up about the subject. His memory may never be all there, but when it came to her, he remembered each word and he was soon able to put the small pieces of the puzzle together.
His nightmares were about him. It was a painful stab to his chest that even now, after the accident, after he recovered, after his memory returned, that she was still having nightmares about him getting ran over. About him not remembering her, their love, their memories.
He reached out to her, bringing her to close to him. She curled onto his chest as his arms kept a loving, if a bit tight, grip around her. His own heart was beating rather quick, but it wasn’t long before Candy calmed in his arms. Her muscles relaxed as she rested her head peacefully on his chest, her arms between their bodies, and a stray leg sneaked between his own.
“I’m here, love,” Lysander whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on her head, blinking back any emotions and tears, “I’ll always be here.”
He woke up to the sound of someone saying his name. It was a familiar voice, if a bit jokingly whiny. He blinked back to reality, groggy and tired, smacking his lips at the morning taste in his mouth. It took him a minute to finally see the source of the voice. Candy was straddling him, her legs on either side of him, dressed in her most comfortable pajamas- panties and a tank top. She was relaxed, leaning back slightly, but with big pouting lips and puppy dog eyes.
He almost forgot that Candy had, once again, spent the night at his house for (yet another) all-nighter. This time they had binge watched all of the first season of Buffy The Vampire Slayer. They had started with the movie at around three thirty in the afternoon the previous day, followed by the unaired pilot episode of the TV series, and then completed the entire first season by the insane hour of four-thirty in the morning. He glanced tiredly at the clock. It was only eight o'clock in the morning.
“Candy,” he groaned, not even making an effort to get him off of her, “it’s too early. Go back to bed.”
With a speed he didn’t even know he was capable of with just under four hours of sleep, he grabbed the pillow under his head and tossed it at her. She made a squawking noise of surprise at the sudden attack, but he didn’t give her a chance to throw the pillow back at him as he sat up, wrapped his arms around her waist, and then fell back onto the bed, taking her with him.
“Armin,” she squirmed in his grasp on top of him, “Let me go.”
His eyes were already closed, mimicking sleep, and he’d be lying if he said he was completely awake. His arms relaxed a bit around her, but she didn’t make any true attempt at breaking free. She placed a loving kiss on his lips briefly before placing a quick one on his neck. An attempt at bribery for freedom. It was tempting, but he didn’t let go.
“Nope,” he didn’t even open his eyes, “I’m going back to bed and so are you.”
She relaxed in his arms, accepting defeat as she rested her head on his chest.
“Why because I need my beauty sleep,” her tone was a bit snarky, but lacked any real menace.
“No, but with less than four hours of sleep even Alexy could defeat you at Mario Kart.”
Candy rested peacefully on the couch. She wasn’t asleep, but it was clear she was fully relaxed as her eyes lazily read the magazine in her hands. A half glass of wine sat on the coffee table beside her. Kentin couldn’t help but think she looked rather mature and yet cute at the same time as she wore his old sweater. They both knew that now that his days as Ken were over, he wouldn’t be wearing the old green sweater anymore. Candy took it upon herself to use it as her favorite overnight pajamas.
“Do you ever think about the future,” he asked, a bit groggily as it was the later evening.
Candy raised an eyebrow, a small questioning hum rising in her throat. Kentin huffed a bit, coming toward the couch before slowly plopping down on top of her. She sighed, setting her magazine aside, before she adjusted herself more comfortably on the couch so all of his weight wasn’t on top of her.
“I mean about our future,” he explained, resting his head on her chest, his arms gently draped on either side of her, “What it holds for us? A marriage? A family? What if we can’t even have kids? Or what if I get deployed before we can get married and then die in battle?”
He buried his face into her chest, the uncertainty of the unknown weighing heavily in his mind. Candy’s expression softened, any shard of irritability at the interruption of her quiet time faded away. Her face buried into his hair as one of her hands rested on his side, the other rubbing comforting circles on his head.
“I think you’re thinking a bit too far ahead.”
Kentin hummed, muttering a few words she couldn’t quite make out, before he looked up at her.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. As long as we’re together, there’s nothing to worry about.”
In the past 12 days, you’ve met with Jongdae about 5 times. He’s only able to see you when you’re finished with work. There aren’t many people outside, and he doesn’t have to worry about cameras. He’d wear a baseball cap without of those masks. No one has seemed to notice him yet. His bodyguards were always present, being forced by Jongdae to wear casual clothes. He didn’t want them standing out. They blended in more without their all black suits, which would throw anyone off in the middle of the night. You weren’t thinking much about these meetings. You almost forgot Jongdae was a prince altogether. He was lay back and relax. You both would share jokes and laugh, while also talking about interests and things you’ve experienced. You could relate to him a lot more than you expect. You couldn’t help but smile whenever you’d meet him on your way home. You both walk for a bit, sit on a bench and get lost in conversation.
At this point there’s no denying it. You like him. His casual skinship would make your heart pound or cause your cheeks to heat up. It was hard not to like Jongdae and you’ve tried. You’re both both passionate about things. His love for music was greater than you anticipated. You’re sure he has a wonderful voice too. You’ve heard him sing softly, barely audible, in the few moments you both would walk in silence. You’ve decided not to ask him to sing just yet.
The last time you spoke to him, which was on the phone, he told you that it was okay to inform your friends that you seeing him. This left a bit of a question in your mind. You weren’t even focusing on the part about your friends. He stated that you were seeing him. So what does that mean? You’re not dating….but you’ll get there eventually? you didn’t want to ponder on it too long, but it was stuck in the back of your mind.
Do you have a tag just for concubine mamas? And more info on Ione and Camilla's relationship? (And maybe Leo/Theodora and Elise/her mom ?)
Unfortunately, I didn’t think too far ahead when it comes to tags. -v-; I really probably should, when I have more content to fill the tag with, of course. (My brother suggested Nohr Whores, but nooooo thanks)
But, anyways, let’s talk about the concubines and their children!
Summary: Sometimes, happiness started out with just an insignificant idea, that grew, bloomed and bore fruits with little acts of love.
(An AU where Jack and Gabriel retired, married and had a home of their own.)
It started out as an idea. A flickering, joking thought that
neither of them could ever dream would actually happen. Gabriel wasn’t even
sure if they were sober then or not. But somehow, this idea stuck, and was seen
through after over a decade of rolling around in countless of missions, through
loss, anger and happiness all alike.
Standing here, in front of the creaky, weed-infested,
middle-of-nowhere farm, Gabriel could feel a dreaded excitement spreading
through his entire being, starting from the fingertips that were linked with
Hi Pear! I'm currently working on novel with a target audience of 8-12. I've also started doodling out important scenes, and have been thinking about perhaps making them into fully formed illustrations. This has made me think about incorporating them into the book itself, (along the lines of Spiderwick, or Leviathan). As I've finished neither the manuscript nor the art, I know I'm thinking too far ahead, but do you have any tips on how to query something like this or if it's worth perusing?
Hey! You don’t specify if you’re talking 8-12 years old or 8-12th grades. You’re talking about either middle grade or young adult fiction. Here’s some tips:
Query the right people. Every agent and publishing house that allows unsolicited queries has a list of preferred genres that they like to take on. While “middle grade” and “young adult” are not specifically genres on their own (more like reading level advisories) and are often paired with other genre descriptors (such as fantasy middle grade novel, etc.), agents and publishing houses will include these two labels as things they would be interested in. Make sure when you’re trying to figure out who to query that you’re querying folks who have an expressly stated interest in middle grade or young adult stories. Some adults just don’t have the ability to see through the lower vocabulary levels to see a truly great middle grade story and prefer not to try to sell those at all. Always look for the right people.
Be ready to let the illustrations go. When drafting up your query letter, you can certainly mention any artistic credentials you have and that full author-drawn illustrations for the book are available upon request, but do not include them with your query, and if you are asked for the first several pages of your manuscript, don’t include any unless you would have put one there anyway (ie., don’t just throw one in for the hell of it; it has to fit with the story just like if it were a printed book). You have to be prepared for the agent or publishing house to not want the illustrations. Pictures are expensive to put in books, so cost-effectiveness may dictate whether the illustrations are included or not. Write your story well enough to compensate for there being no images to accompany it. You don’t want to hamstring your story to be dependent on them when there’s no guarantee they’ll even want to include them.
Is it worth it? The story itself is always worth it. The art? Depends on how attached to the idea of them you are. It’s harder to get manuscripts with art accepted–that cost-effectiveness thing again–especially for debut novels. It makes the book itself more costly to make, which drives prices up, which makes it less likely that the target audience can afford it, which means your sales are limited, which makes publishers twitchy. If you can prove to the publishers that you have an eager audience already waiting with bated breath for this story, they may be more willing. Your best bet, though, is to get this done and set it aside until you get something else published. It’ll get you into the public consciousness (bonus points if its something in the same target age) and on-the-look-out for your next thing. If you do well, the publishers will be more willing to go out on a limb for your next thing. Outside of the business aspects, is it worth it? Does the art help you better envision your characters and world? Do you feel a deeper connection with it all? Are you better able to slide into the writing of it when you have these drawings at your disposal or forming in your mind? Then yes, it’s worth it. Even if the illustrations don’t get into the final product, they will have made your story better.
I matched with a guy who had nothing in his bio (just the way I like it) and we got to talking. He seemed really normal and down to Earth. We talked for about a week before he brought up wanting to meet (another plus). I was telling my friend (who lives 2 hours away) about him and that he wanted to meet. She asked about him so I sent her some screenshots of his pictures and pieces of our conversation. She immediately replies, “OH MY GOD! I KNOW HIM! HE WENT TO MY HIGH SCHOOL!” She then tells me how he’s a really nice guy, his family is really nice, his brothers are nice and that they were all raised to be respectful. I had gotten that sense from talking to him but to hear it from someone who knows him was the icing on the cake.
So we finally get together 2 weeks after we started talking. I was incredibly nervous as this was my first time meeting someone from Tinder. I meet him outside his apartment building when I finished with work and he finished with class. We hung out, had a couple drinks and put on Breaking Bad on Netflix after realizing we both were huge fans.
It was crazy how much we had in common. Conversation flow was very natural and it felt like we’d known each other for years. Now, I’m not the type of person to think too far ahead in a relationship. I like to let things just happen and not be that whiny girl who always wants to know “what we are” or thinks we’re getting married on the first date. With this guy, though, I starting thinking in the back of my head “Wow, this could go somewhere. This all feels just so easy and effortless.”
You know, I think my real problem is that I think way too far ahead whenever I write. I plan out every little thing and always need to know exactly where a story is going and what is going to happen or else I feel uncomfortable and itch for that kind of self instruction. The only issue is that I get so caught up in the planning, and I like to make everything so complex, that sometimes it eats away at my motivation to actually sit down and write. I feel like I can’t start carving the marble unless I know exactly every angle at which to cut.
*Dark would somehow end up in a random forest, completely new to him but seeming like an average forest. He would not be able to recall why he was even there, but it was clear something had put him there. Suddenly, a very short familiar figure would run up to Dark.*
[Kenzi (Young)] Hello, Mister! Can you help me get back to my home? I’m a bit lost, and I think I ran a bit too far ahead of my Mom and Aunt.
*This Kenzi seemed extremely young, even younger than most versions Kato met so far. He seemed about 3 years old, and more cheerful and energetic than he should be.*
Source: went to see the American Football anniversary show last night. this album didn’t have much legs when it first came out. i remember it. i liked it a lot but i think this album was just too far ahead of its time. sometimes i think a really good record isn’t something you love right away but keep coming back to over and over but you are not sure why. could be that you need to grow with the music to really able able to appreciate it. this album is just a great example of that. the live show was a perfect compliment to this album especially since i didn’t get chance to see it the first time, that i know of at least
I guess I’m saying, kudos to Kinsella for doing justice to an album that is a decade old and is now finally being appreciated.
Looking down at Alex, I stroked the side of his face and
sighed. He barely slept a wink last night and with him not being able to sleep,
I couldn’t either.
There was no way that I could fall asleep knowing that
thoughts like these were haunting him so strongly.
The fact that something like this was keeping him up made me
feel uneasy. For one, because he never told me about these fears that he had,
not that I’m totally surprised by his actions and also because I didn’t know
how to ease his mind.
I can promise him that nothing bad will happen but in his
mind that promise isn’t guaranteed.
His childhood was so terrible and I understand why he would
have fears like that for his kids but I knew Alex would never let anything or
anyone hurt his kids.
Started this a while ago and finally got around to finishing it just now. I love Goku/Chi-Chi so much fight me.
Summary: Words aren’t Goku’s strong suit, never have been. Sometimes, though, he knows just what to say.
Fandom: Dragon Ball/Dragon Ball Z Ships: Goku/Chi-Chi (Scary When Angry) Warnings: none Word Count: 1726
Well, there she was. All 5 feet and
4 inches of her. Chi-Chi stared at herself in the mirror, stripped down to her
underwear, hair hanging loose. She gave her reflection a cursory glance up and
down, then started in on specifics.
Her stomach wasn’t flat, and hadn’t
been for a long time. Gone were the toned abs she’d once been so proud of, back
when she was younger and prettier and hadn’t had two babies. Her thighs had
gotten bigger, too; she’d have to add more kicks into her training with Goten.
Her posture left something to be desired (she quickly straightened her back),
her breasts were sagging more than a little, her backside was jigglier than she
remembered, and stretch marks covered more and more areas of her skin every
Hi! If any of you follow me on instagram (@jennettemccurdy, proud plug) you’ll know that I’ve been on quite the self-love kick lately. It’s true. I don’t hate myself, as crazy as that sounds.
And that’s just the thing of it…. why does it seem crazy or hokey to express self-love? Why do we sometimes view it as false or put-on? Well, I think because we aren’t loving ourselves. Any time in the past when I’ve snickered or laughed off someone’s seemingly grandiose view of themselves (it’s happened more than a few times), it is only because I myself felt small.
Nowadays, I really do sense more positivity and uplifting messages in the world, but yet there is still this wide net popular idea of glorified self-depracation, used to make the deprecator seem cool/self-aware/in touch/humble. I’ve come to believe that this just isn’t true. Putting yourself down or acting like you’re not that great is just not that great. You are depriving yourself of the love you most deserve - your own.
In the past, I have been quick to brush off a compliment or attribute a success to some chance luck. I could easily poke fun at myself or apologize for no real reason. I was the mistress of self-deprecation. Even many of my tweets and vines came from a place of a lighthearted discontent with myself. Sometimes I feared losing that self-disrespect because honestly, I felt I would lose my sense of humor, and that is something I really appreciate in myself. (In case you didn’t know, I am hilarious.)
Well I’m here to assure you, whatever you may be worried about losing if you ditch your self-deprecation, whether it be humor, kindness, humility, friendliness, etc. YOU WILL NOT. You could never lose that beautiful part of yourself by losing the ugly part that is self-deprecation. In fact, whatever you’re worried about losing will shine that much brighter when you lose the self-effacing because it will have the room to grow and come from a more mature, seasoned place. Your kindness will be deeper, your humor will be richer, your friendliness will be purer, and you will absolutely feel a difference.
With time, perspective, and lots of looking inside, I am proud and happy with how much I’ve grown and who I’ve become. I enjoy my company, smile for no reason, and am able to accept love from others in a purer way because their love is simply additional to that which I feel for myself.
Now before I get too far ahead of myself, let me explain. I think that in NO WAY should bragging/conceit/arrogance be mistaken for self-love. That is the opposite. The only reason people feel a need to be over the top with any of those qualities is because they are deeply deprived of their own nurturing, or so I believe.
From my heart I just hope these words are encouraging to you. I hope you find them empowering and take a few minutes to think about how you behave and why you behave that way. Don’t do anything for the approval or acceptance of others. Accept yourself and watch your world shine. I ain’t kiddin’. LOVE YOURSELF <3