maybe someday i'll make it again

2

Adrien Agreste has it all. A flourishing modeling career, a prestigious, affluent family, and he’s a top student as his university. And yet he can’t shake the feeling that he is not truly living life, but merely going through the motions set upon him by his overbearing father.

One summer, he escapes the stresses of Paris life, spending a day in a small seashore village in western France. He was only planning on staying a single day, but as he was making his way to the bus station, a beautiful woman passed by him.

Deciding to stay a few more nights–in hopes of seeing that woman again–he books into a small, boutique bed and breakfast, The Ladybug. Much to his surprise, the owner is a young woman by the name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

aka an au fic I’m planning on writing someday (maybe) :) If people are interested 

well I tried to make a speedpaint and at the end my computer crashed, so I lost all the footage. fortunately I saved the pic often, but after that I didn’t have any motivation to finish it by putting in some kind of background.
so pretend he’s a VN sprite or something

3

Have a couple of old cats that have dealt with a lot of shit.

When ur friend writes a drabble of a fic and won’t share it, you bribe them with cats from said fic obviously.

Aizawa and Toshi make some weird looking cats, let’s be honest.

anonymous asked:

where are you getting your inktober prompts? they seem really interesting!

Haha, thanks! For those I’m actually just redoing/revisiting some of my favorites from the waking-up drawings series I did a long while back. Those originals were drawings done as the very first thing when I wake up in the morning, so they could be what I remember from dreams/nightmares, just random ideas that popped into my head, or “I don’t know what to do so I’m just going to start moving the pen across the page.” 

If you ever find yourself artblocked, I’d highly recommend trying waking-up drawings…just grabbing a pen and paper and doodling the moment you’re awake. For those first 5-10 minutes or so your critical brain hasn’t kicked in yet so it’s possible to get down some really weird, different, uninhibited drawings. I did about 1000 of them before stopping, and now it’s just this giant surplus of ideas I can pick out of if I’m ever low on ideas for art to do. Very handy and fun!

anonymous asked:

You have OC's???? Where? Have you written for them recently? *interest peeked*

I. 

Yes I have OCs. I love them with all my heart and I have written one full, 48-chapter novel about them, a separate half-novel of A’s backstory, and started on a sequel (started about ummm 10 years ago) The main story is in need of a major overhaul, and I got about three chapters in before FFXV took over my life. 

So, no. No I have not worked on anything for them in about a year. But sometimes I take out my massive binder which contains the full printed story and I just kinda…pet it. Hold it. Remember the dreams I once had. Then put it back on the shelf. 

“I despise you,” she said
“I hope that one day you get that same feeling in your stomach that I got whenever I looked at you. And I hope you fall in love with whoever it is you fall in love with and I hope she breaks your heart. And I hope that you someday maybe begin to understand the heartache that YOU put me through. Now you just make me sick.” She spit out while walking out the door.
He knew exactly what she was talking about. He had broken her heart too many times before to even begin to mend it ever again.
She knew she wouldn’t regret walking out that damn door. He had never loved her, only ever showed he ‘loved’ her when he wanted something. And even then he didn’t show it very well.
—  Excerpt of a story I’ll never write #1 ( @biancas-books )
7

some sylveon crossbreeds (with the other eeveelutions)! these are going to be used on my askblog, @askthesylveoncrossbreeds , but you’re free to make your own characters~

This was supposed to be another “scene from a fic I’ll never write”, but it got a little long. Posting it here on tumblr because this is where I started writing it. Inspired by (but only inspired by, and not intended to be based on) this poem by @punsbulletsandpointythings and by this fic from AO3 author Elektra Pendragon.

Boil jumped at the touch on his shoulder. But it was only that ARC trooper, the brash one from the 501st. Fives, was it? Yeah, there was that tattoo on his head.

“Easy, easy,” Fives said when Boil tensed. He lowered himself slowly onto the bench next to Boil. “How’re you doing?”

Boil looked down again, at the helmet in his hands. The one he’d been staring at when Fives startled him. The one he’d been holding for he didn’t even know how long now. His thumb brushed lightly over the the little cartoon of Numa on the side. Would Fives even know this wasn’t his helmet? Would Fives realize what this helmet meant, how much it meant? His hands shook slightly.

“ ‘M fine.”

Fives sighed. “I heard about…Waxer.”

Boil’s hands tightened on the helmet. “What about him?” His voice came out low, cracked, sharp.

“About…you and Waxer,” Fives said.

What about me and W––”

His throat closed around the word.

Fives didn’t reply. Silence welled up between them, tense and uncomfortable. Though Fives sat an arm’s length away, he felt too close. The sense of presence there, on Boil’s left, scraped at his personal space. It wasn’t right. The energy wasn’t right. It was rough and raw and bold, and it grated against the edges of a hole that should have been filled with an energy much softer, more gentle and warm. Boil continued to look at the helmet, trying to bury the ache that knotted itself tighter and tighter inside his chest. With Fives’ energy pushing at him, edging him out of the cold void that had been ripped in his space––that he’d let himself fall into––there was nowhere to hide.

He jumped again as Fives touched his shoulder. He rubbed at his face, trying to ground himself. When his hands came back wet, he realized he’d lost the battle against the ache.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Fives said softly.

An icy burn slushed through Boil’s veins, all anger and pain and shame. He twisted his shoulder away from Fives’ reach. “What would you know about it?”

Instantly he wished he could take the words back. Fives looked as though he’d been slapped. After a breath, Fives composed his expression, but Boil remembered. He’d had someone once too. That other ARC trooper from the 501st. Lost him on the Citadel mission, Commander Cody had mentioned, when Cody had come back without any of the 212th he’d taken with him. And Boil was so thankful that they hadn’t been picked for that one, thankful that he could stay behind, thankful that even though he’d lost friends, at least he could still be with–– with––

The ache in his chest forced itself out of his eyes.

“I can’t–– I don’t–– How do I…do this?”

Fives put his hand on Boil’s shoulder once more, and this time he didn’t pull away. “It doesn’t get…” Fives swallowed audibly. “I dunno if it gets any easier. But you just keep going, you know? You get better at…dealing with it.”

They lapsed into silence once more. Boil took a breath, then another breath, trying to stem the tide of emotion pouring down his face. He reached up and grasped Fives’ wrist. It still didn’t feel like–– it wasn’t–– him, but it was something, even if the cold emptiness waited just below the surface.

After a moment, Fives drew his hand away. “Well, I just wanted to come see how you were.” He knocked his gauntlet against the armor on Boil’s arm a couple of times. “Hang in there, yeah?”

Boil wiped at his eyes again and nodded.

Fives rose from the bench. He turned to leave, but paused. Boil looked up at him.

“Just…he’s not gone,” Fives said, “not if you remember him. And you’ll see him again.”

Without warning, emotion flooded up into Boil’s eyes once more, down his throat, knotting in his chest. He fought it in great, heaving gasps. “How do I…how do I recite remembrance for him when I c-can’t even…s-say…say his name?”

Fives gave a rueful smile. “You get better at that too.” He reached down and patted Boil’s shoulder one last time, before walking away.

Boil turned back to the helmet in his hands. A wet patch lay over Numa’s face. He brought his thumb up again to wipe it away, gently, lingering on her kerchief, her big bright eyes, her little lekku. …He’d…always been so proud of that picture. Always took the time to brush the dirt off of it. Always gave it a lucky tap before heading off to fight. Boil rapped his knuckle against the picture lightly. “I remember,” he murmured. “I remember you. So you are eternal.” He pressed the helmet to his forehead, letting his eyes fall shut.

“I’ll see you again…Waxer.”

Indefinite Hiatus;

I’m sure some people have noticed that I haven’t been around lately again, and I wanted to further explain myself before going on an indefinite hiatus. Please bear with me, as I don’t know if this will come off as me venting or ranting, but I feel this is all stuff I need to say and want to get across to everyone.

Keep reading

an love letter from a lover to a non lover

Dear non-lover,I know our “love” was non-existent but I tell you, being a one-night stand does suck. Probably you’ve been here before, or maybe I’m just hoping you felt the same way that I did. Even at least once. Like when I asked if you’re free, you were “ busy ”. Like when I asked how’s your day, you said “ fine”. Like when I bothered to get you something for your birthday, you were “ thanks”. Like when I bought you food, you told me “ no, I’m not hungry but thanks I guess. Like when I sent you a text, you were either a ” k “ or a ” blue tick “ on send. Like when I called the other day, you were ” the number you have dialled is engaged at the moment, please leave a message after the tone". Like when I was ready to tell you how I felt, you were “ I’m sorry, I have to go”. And that was all you said. And maybe after sleepless night after night, maybe you’re right, I might just have to let you go. I think it’s only fitting that it ends here. Because love will come again someday and maybe it’ll decide to stay. Make it feel welcome “ please sit, let’s have a chat over tea” and “ feel at home” and if it ever leaves, tell him “ I had a great time and see you soon, I hope”

-Hopeless romantic (m.e. 2017)

And I hope someday, years after that day, we meet again. And maybe then we’ll be right for each other, maybe then we’ll need each others and never leave one another’s side, maybe we’ll realise how wrong it was to split up and maybe then, just maybe, everything will be different and we could make it work again
—  Excerpt from a book I will never write #178

i refuse to apologize for the way i love you. i will not feel any remorse for the way you make my veins feel like they’re on fire, for the way you make me feel like im flying even when i wish to stop breathing. i will not stop trying to make you smile, to make you want breathe and feel alive again. i will never regret the way i love you, and i hope someday soon you see it, and that maybe underneath it all, that you might just love me too.

Let’s forget canon for a moment and imagine this:

Imagine the Valar decided to make an exception. Imagine Bard was rebodied in Valinor years ago.

Imagine Thranduil sailing, at last, to the Undying Lands. Imagine Thranduil being welcomed by his people, his family. His wife.

Imagine the crowd slowly dispersing, and Bard is there. He’s been waiting. Imagine Thranduil’s wife smiling to her husband and gently making him turn.

Imagine Thranduil seeing Bard again, alive and well. Imagine his surprise, his disbelief, then his smile. Imagine how he’s feeling.

Imagine Bard grinning, and saying: “what took you so long, meleth nín?”

I’ll be okay someday. I will be. I think you know that but you’re not concerned with how hard it is or how long it will take anymore, since you’ve found yourself new happiness.
I want you to know that I still dream about you and you cross my mind at the most inconvenient moments and the memories don’t make me smile like they used to because they’re all I have left of you and I’ll never make any more with you.
I want you to know that I’ll be okay someday but that it’s a long, hard, road to that day.
I want you to know that you’ll probably think of me one day but hopefully by then, I’ll have finally found that okay and maybe even happiness again.
I want you to know that we were and could have continued to be something wonderful but you wanted something else and that’s okay too because I’ll be okay someday. I will be.
—  excerpt from a book ill never write #2
  • Chris Colfer: Hi!
  • Fan at Bexley High School: Chris, I love your singing voice and you're so handsome. Will you ever sing again?
  • Chris: Aw, thank you! I think so, someday, yeah. I would like to, yeah. My dream would be to do a—
  • Fan: I'm hearing-impaired, but I can still hear your voice. I can't—I can't get enough of it! We have to hear you sing again.
  • Chris: Oh, well thank you so much, thank you. Just for you, I'm going to try to make that album. I would love to do—my dream would be to do a cover album, with some sort of charitable tie-in to it. So maybe one day, I'll be able to do that.
I got myself to delete an old conversation between us today on Snapchat. It wasn’t much, just enough to make me upset.“ She murmurs quietly.
“That’s good.” Her friend replied.
“I still can’t bring myself to erase the messages that make me cry, though.”
“Why not?”
“Well,” she started. “They remind me of when I was happy. With him. I’m still holding onto the thought that maybe, possibly, someday he’ll make me happy like that again. I know it won’t happen, but is it so bad to dream?
—  Is it so bad to dream? // May rewrite this sometime soon
Here's the big announcement: I'm going to try and live my life and not kill myself.

Today is the 27th April. More accurately put, today is the day where I should by right, no longer exist on this earth anymore. A few days ago, I’ve even planning to jump off the 16th storey building (today) at my apartment the minute right after I got discharge from the hospital.

But the meeting with patient, Michelle, changed everything. I started having doubts and second thoughts about it. She started talking about God and her words are really encouraging and good enough to make me want to keep going and fight. Looking at her, I really got to say I give it to her for hanging there for so long and despite of all, she chose not to end her life and whatever the prophet said to her was indeed encouraging. To know that she’s been tried and tested and she have passed the test after so many years. It is really an encouraging thing for both of us, it make me realised that maybe somewhere out there, there’s hope for someone like me. Just maybe.

Anyway, yesterday was a really tough day for me. I had no idea how I overcome that. I spend hours after hours weeping away by myself in my room, trying to pray and hope that things would eventually turn out to be better so that I no longer have to go to the point whereby I feel the need to take my life anymore.

Therefore, yesterday should mark the day whereby I have decided that I’m going to try and live. I’m going to try and be alive no matter what, and that I’ll be able to hang there because God never hand us things more than we can ever handle.

It may sounds silly but I’m just purely hanging by faith right now. I have made this very big decision yesterday to come back to God and even though I do not know how to start my life over now, I’m just going to trust him and wait it out. I can’t kill myself and I’ll try not to.

So with that said, it means that I’m going to take my medications from now on, I’m going to try and meet the pastor (that Michelle told me about) for counselling and hopefully he can help. I’m going to try getting back to church cause Michelle said it’s important that I’m always listening and surrounded by the word and presence of God. I’m going to listen to my psych and try to get a job right now. I’m going to try and live my life now…. Even if it means just existing for God-knows-how-many-years to come, even if it means misery.

And…. Maybe I’ll tell my psych that I want to see a therapist again. Idk about this cause I don’t want to be going back to a point whereby I’m slipping and missing appointments and eventually stop seeing my therapist cause I’ve been lying and things got to a point whereby nothing works for me anymore.

So yeah, there you have it. The big announcement that I was talking about. It’s a big move, a big decision on my life. I’ve decided to share this with you guys cause I figured out that tumblr is a diary that’s very close to my heart and I’m going to share all the good and bad that’s been on my life on here.

Sure, I might slip up from now, I might get worse, I might attempt suicide, I might get warded into hospital again, but I might get better, I might be living and not just existing years from now. The truth is, idk what’s going to happen. I guess I’ll just hang around by faith and hold onto the promise of God and try and sticks around for as long as I can.

Yesterday I had a consultation with my psych in the morning before I got discharge that evening. It’s been confirmed that he have no religious beliefs according to him. But at least my psych said, “well, if this religious thing is helping you, I don’t see what’s the harm in it.”

Well, my psych doesn’t believe in God but at least he’s supportive of it cause he sees it as something that’s helping me and preventing me to kill myself and so, why not? If it helps, it works. ANYTHING that can help me to prevent myself from committing suicide right now basically works. So to my psych, if it works = it’s good for me. As simple as that.

Ps: please do not send me messages like how God don’t exist and how it doesn’t matter if I kill myself or not and how things will be bad again and it’s just a matter of time before I slip back to my old ways. I’m trying to not, and as much as I can’t be 100% sure I won’t slip back or lapse, 1 thing for sure is that I’m really going to try.